When I'm confident I won't scare any of Damien's employees if I leave the room, I exit the bathroom and find the man in question pulling a black shirt over his torso.
His gaze finds me the moment I step into the room, that easy smile lighting his face.
“I still have a few things to prep for the reception, but otherwise we’re set,” I tell him, moving toward the closet, hoping motion will steady my nerves.
“Good. I’ll be at the club all day, but if you need anything, just call.”
It sounds normal, yet something uneasy tugs at me.Is someone else waiting for him at that club? Oh, just stop it! He has business to attend to!
I sense him behind me before I see him, the quiet shift of air giving him away. When I turn, his hands are already reaching to cup my face. His thumbs brush the corners of my jaw as he kisses each cheek with surprising tenderness.
He turns to leave, but I reach for his hand. He pauses, raising his brows in silent question. Before I can talk myself out of it, I push up onto my toes and return the gesture, pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks.
He goes still, the air between us heavy.
I search for something, anything, to ease the tension. “Any word on The Bloody Dahlia?” I ask, my voice softer than I expect.
It takes him a moment to find his composure. When he finally speaks, his tone is low and measured.
“No. I’ve started going through the file and asking questions. I don’t want to tell you anything until I have solid answers. What I can say is that some things were swept under the rug far too easily.”
"Like what?"
"The investigation closed in less than a month. The suspect list contained two people, one of whom didn't even fit the profile the police prepared. Someone had money or influence and made sure this case got buried."
I listen because I felt the same thing. When I grew up and could look into the case myself, Henry told me the exact same thing. No matter how many doors he knocked on, people turned their backs.
"Thank you, Damien. I know this is eating up your time and resources."
"For you, it's a small price."
He squeezes my hand then turns and leaves, leaving me watching the door for a few seconds.
I turn back to my laptop, determined to catch up on everything I still need to prep for the upcoming events. A new email from Marco Agosti catches my eye. It’s brief and to the point, saying he has another party that needs organizing and wants to work with me again. For a moment, I hesitate. He’s still a client, but there’s something about him that gives off unmistakable mafia vibes.
He’s just another client, Roxy.
After confirming I can take on the event, I glance at another email that came in right after.
What the hell?My heart slams against my ribcage, ice flooding my veins because the email contains only one sentence: "I steal the sun’s light to rule the night—what am I?"
What is this?
I read it twice, and when understanding clicks into place, I check the sender, and of course it’s a generic address,[email protected].
My hand shoots for my phone, fingers already dialing my best friend.
PICK UP, LUNA!
"The person you are currently calling cannot be reached."
Roman. Roman must be with her.
Several seconds pass while my entire body goes cold, every nerve ending screaming danger. Then the Russian mafia pakhan’s voice crackles through the line.
"TELL ME LUNA'S WITH YOU!"
Chapter 25
