Page 27 of Ruthless Truths
The only good things I’ve managed to experience this last week have been getting lost in my art and having Justine tell me that my mother’s house isn’t at risk any longer. She was vague on the details, but I attributed that to her not wanting me to continue insisting that I pay them back. Still, I’m just glad it’s one less thing I need to worry about for now. Even more so, she took care of making sure all of the items at my apartment were moved over to the house before they got trashed by my landlord when my move-out day arrived.
Letting all of the things be done for me and not having any control is hard to accept, but I get a little better at it with each passing day.
At precisely nine o’clock, the lock disengages on the steel door, and Luca strolls into the room, hands casually tucked into his pockets, a grin gracing his lips. I briefly close my eyes and curse the cruel fate that would make this man even more irresistible with a simple smile. It shouldn’t be possible, but it is, and I avert my gaze, unwilling to succumb to his charm as he heads to his personal bar in the living room to pour himself a drink.
“Want anything?” he asks, taking me by surprise.
Not once in the last week has he offered to do anything for me. Justine tries to convince me that Luca wants me, but I’ve had no proof of that except for those brief moments when he stares at me. His eyes darken, his jaw tightens, and sometimes I swear I even hear a rumble in his chest.
Though, I’m not sure if those are signs of a desire to have me or kill me.
“No, thanks,” I finally answer, then give my attention back to the paper in front of me. I got my paints from Justine, but sketching has seemed safer…less messy.
Luca’s shadow looms over me, but I don’t look up. That also seemssafer. Only, he doesn’t go away like I expect.
“I’m going out tonight,” he states, a glass of whiskey in one hand and the other settled back into the pocket of his black slacks.
“I won’t wait up, don’t worry,” I reply, doing my best to keep my gaze from flicking too far up while I ignore the pang of jealousy that flits through me. What the fuck is wrong with me? I shouldn’t care if he’s going out, likely to be hit on by other women, maybe even touched by them…
This man is not mine, and he never will be.
He bends down, taking my pad of paper and tossing it onto the slate coffee table beside him. “Get dressed.”
I finally meet his stare head on and steel myself for the power this man seems to have over me. “Excuse me?”
“You’re going with us,” he says, as if this is something normal. “Justine will be there, and I need all of the men I trust closest with me, meaning you can’t be left here alone.”
“Why?” I ask, my uncertainty encompassing both aspects of his statement.
He glowers down at me where I’ve stayed on the couch. “Have you not grasped that there are people who would rather you cease breathing?”
“Oh, I have,” I retort, my voice filled with a mixture of defiance and suspicion. “A few of them likely even sleep under this roof.”
Silence stretches between us, and Luca offers no response. “Get dressed, Raven. I won’t ask again,” he commands before disappearing into his bedroom.
I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be around more of his people. Yet, this might be an opportunity for me to escape. Sure, people want me dead, but I’m not stupid. If I could get away, I wouldn’t go home. I’d run to… Hell, I don’t know, but anything has to be better than here with…this man.
Though, as my eyes catch the flowers that I was drawing only a few minutes before, my chest constricts at the thought of leaving everything behind. Never having anything of my mother’s to physically remember her by. Never planting the garden my thoughts have become so obsessed with since my capture.
Can I really give all that up to stay alive on my own terms? That’s a question I don’t actually have an answer to.
Luca might be the devil reincarnate, but he has kept his word so far. Maybe it’s a question I don’t have to answer. With how giddy he seemed walking into the room tonight, maybe this will all be over sooner rather than later.
Just as I stand to go into the bedroom to change, Luca steps out of the room as if he’s going to reprimand me for not doing as he commanded. A shiver moves down my spine and settles at my core, wondering just how he might do that.
Mother fuck. I need to get out of this place.
“Is there a dress code for where we’re going?” I ask, moving past him, careful not to brush against his chest as I do.
He’s silent for another beat, then says, “I’ll have Justine bring you some dresses.”
Luca retrieves his phone from the bed and heads toward his closet. I don’t linger to watch him change; the torment of witnessing such a spectacle is one I don’t need to endure. Instead, I make my way to the bathroom, releasing my hair from the ponytail it has been trapped in all day. With the straightener I discovered amongst my belongings, I tame my hair, giving it soft waves.
As I sweep mascara onto my lashes, I hear a faint knock at the door. Luca’s heavy footsteps echo through the room, but I remain in the bathroom, avoiding the front door I’ve learned is equipped to keep me contained. There’s no reason to touch it now.
Justine appears in my peripheral vision, and I turn my head to find her wearing a wicked grin, her hands silently clapping with excitement. “We’re going out!” Her words are almost a whisper, but the anticipation radiates from her.
“I’m only going because Luca doesn’t trust me to be left alone in the compound,” I reply, not sharing in her enthusiasm.