Chapter Five
949 Words
Elena should have said no.
The thought followed her as she crossed the ballroom behind the security guard. Every sensible instinct she possessed was telling her to turn around. To leave. To get in her car and drive home.
Instead, she kept walking. Because for weeks she had been chasing a man she couldn't reach. Now that man was asking to speak with her. Journalist curiosity was a difficult thing to ignore.
The guard led her through a side corridor away from the music and chatter of the gala. The further they walked, the quieter everything became.
A pair of double doors stood at the end of the hallway.
The guard stopped.
"Mr. Moretti is inside." Elena swallowed.
The guard opened the door. And stepped aside. She entered alone. The room was smaller than she expected. Private. Elegant. A floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the city below, where thousands of lights glittered against the darkness.
For a moment, she thought she was alone. Then she noticed him,standing near the window. His back to the room. One hand in his pocket. The other resting lightly against the glass. The man didn't immediately turn around. The silence stretched.
Strangely, it wasn't awkward. Like everything else about him.
Finally, he spoke.
"You've been asking a lot of questions."
The voice was deep,calm but not threatening. Just confident. The kind of confidence that came from never doubting yourself.
Elena folded her arms.
"Occupational hazard."
A faint smile touched his reflection in the window. Then he turned. For the first time, she got a proper look at him. Photographs hadn't done him justice. Not because he was more handsome in person.Though he was. It was the presence.
Most powerful people tried too hard to prove it. Luca Moretti didn't have to. The room seemed to adjust itself around him naturally.
His dark gaze settled on her. As though he were studying her. The realization irritated her immediately.
"I didn't realize people like you spent their evenings tracking journalists."
The corner of his mouth moved slightly.
"You assume I was tracking you."
"Weren't you?"
Instead of answering, he gestured toward a chair.
Elena remained standing. That earned another almost-smile.
"You're exactly as stubborn as I've been told."
Her pulse skipped.
"Told by who?"
"A number of people."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
The infuriating thing was that he didn't seem bothered by her frustration. If anything, he appeared amused by it. Elena took a step forward.
"Let's stop pretending."
His expression didn't change.
"Pretending what?"
"That this is a normal conversation."
Silence.
She continued.
"My source ends up in the hospital."
Nothing.
"I receive threats."
Still nothing.
"I get mysterious phone calls."
His eyes never left hers.
"And somehow your name keeps appearing everywhere I look."
The room grew quiet.
The kind that makes you aware something important is about to happen.
Finally, Luca spoke.
"Do you think I attacked your source?"
The directness of the question caught her off guard.
She hesitated. His gaze sharpened.
"That's what I thought."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you don't actually know what to think."
Annoyance flared inside her.
"I think you're involved."
"With what?"
"That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out."
For the first time, something shifted in his expression. She was not sure what it was.
Luca moved away from the window.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
"Miss Rossi."
The formal address felt oddly personal coming from him.
"You've convinced yourself you're investigating corruption."
"I am."
"No."
His voice remained calm.
"You were."
The confidence in those words made her stomach tighten.
"What does that mean?"
He looked at her for several seconds. As though debating something internally.
Then he asked a question.
"How many sources have disappeared since you started?"
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
Elena stared at him.
"You know about that?"
He ignored the question.
"How many?"
She said nothing.
Luca nodded once.
"More than one."
A chill crept through her because he was right.There had been more than one. Several people had suddenly stopped talking. At first she'd dismissed it. Now she wasn't so sure.
Luca's expression hardened.
"You're looking in the wrong direction."
The words echoed through the room.
Elena laughed bitterly.
"Then point me in the right one."
To her surprise, he didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked back toward the window. The city lights reflected in the glass behind him.
For a moment she could not help admire how he moved.
"You should leave this alone."
"There it is again."
"What?"
"The warning."
"It's not a warning."
"Then what is it?"
His jaw tightened slightly.
The first c***k she'd seen all evening.
"It's advice."
"Why?" The question escaped before she could stop it.
Why did he care? Why not simply deny everything and send her away? For the first time, Luca looked genuinely serious. Dangerously serious.
When he spoke, his voice was quieter.
"You think you're investigating me."
A knot formed in Elena's stomach.
"Am I not?"
His gaze locked onto hers.
"No."
The single word landed heavily between them. Elena felt her pulse quicken.
"What are you saying?"
Luca looked toward the door then back at her.
And he looked worried but not for himself.
For her.
When he finally spoke, every word was deliberate.
"Three days ago, your source wasn't the target."
The air left her lungs.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
"No."
She shook her head.
"No, that's impossible."
Luca's expression didn't change.
"The attack wasn't meant for him."
Fear crawled slowly down her spine.
"Then who was the target?"
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke. Then Luca answered. And the world seemed to stop.
"You were."
- Writer
