Lucian sat behind his desk, one hand resting on the file he had just closed. The other held his phone. His mind was still replaying everything he’d read — Liam’s filth, Elena’s pain, and how their lives somehow crossed in a way that made his chest tighten with something unfamiliar.
He exhaled slowly and unlocked his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found one name: Mr. Bennett — the manager of his hotel.
The phone rang only once before the man’s voice came through, polite but nervous.
“Mr. DeLuca, good evening, sir.”
Lucian’s tone was calm, clipped. “Bennett, I want you to do something for me.”
“Yes, of course, sir. What do you need?”
Lucian leaned back in his chair. “There’s a woman who works at your hotel. Elena. She’s a room attendant.”
Mr. Bennett hesitated. “Yes, s
