Chương 2 - The Answer He Couldn’t Give
Clare regretted the question almost immediately.
Why?
It was too intimate.
It demanded an explanation neither of them was supposed to owe the other.
Luca stood beneath the enormous chandelier in the lobby, rain moving like silver threads down the glass behind him. His security men remained near the elevators, far enough away to pretend they could not hear.
For once, Luca Duca did not have an answer ready.
Finally, he said, “Because you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
Clare’s expression changed.
Not softened.
Changed.
“That’s not your decision.”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
Luca reached into his coat, removed his phone, and tapped once.
“A cab will be outside in two minutes. No driver. No escort.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You ordered me a cab?”
“I requested one.”
“You don’t request things.”
“I’m experimenting.”
Despite everything, Clare almost laughed.
Then the revolving doors moved.
A man entered from the rain.
Clare went completely still.
Luca noticed before he even saw the newcomer.
Evan Mercer wore a navy overcoat over a charcoal suit. Rain glistened across his shoulders. Handsome, polished, controlled, he looked exactly like the kind of man Clare’s friends had described as safe when she became engaged.
His eyes found Clare.
Then Luca.
Then Clare’s bare left hand.
“Clare.”
She stepped backward.
It was barely half a step.
Luca saw it.
Evan did too.
“Come outside,” Evan said.
“No.”
“We need to talk.”
“We already did.”
Evan’s jaw flexed.
“I apologized.”
Clare laughed once without humor.
“You apologized for grabbing me after you accused me of sleeping with my boss.”
Luca’s face revealed nothing.
Evan glanced at him.
“That was between us.”
“It stopped being between us when you left bruises.”
The lobby became silent.
Evan lowered his voice.
“Put the ring back on.”
Clare opened her fist.
The diamond lay against her palm.
“No.”
Evan took one step forward.
Luca moved.
Nothing dramatic.
He simply positioned himself between them.
Evan stared at him.
“I’m talking to my fiancée.”
“Former fiancée,” Clare said.
Evan looked around Luca.
“We’re not doing this here.”
“We’re not doing anything anywhere.”
“Clare.”
She walked toward him.
For one second, Luca nearly stopped her.
Then he understood.
She was not approaching Evan because she was afraid.
She was approaching because she had finally stopped being afraid.
Clare held out the ring.
Evan stared at it.
“Take it.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You wanted control over where I worked. Who I spoke to. What I wore. You checked my phone. You called sixteen times during one dinner because I didn’t answer. Tonight, you grabbed me because I said I was done explaining myself.”
Evan’s eyes flickered toward Luca.
“This is because of him.”
“No. This is because of you.”
She placed the ring on the marble reception desk.
The tiny click sounded louder than it should have.
Evan’s face darkened.
“You’ll regret embarrassing me.”
Luca’s security men shifted.
Luca raised one finger.
They stopped.
Clare saw it.
“You don’t get to threaten me anymore.”
Evan smiled.
It was not pleasant.
“You think Duca can protect you from everything?”
Luca finally spoke.
“No.”
Both of them looked at him.
He kept his eyes on Clare.
“She can protect herself.”
Something passed through her expression.
Gratitude, perhaps.
Or surprise.
Luca looked at Evan.
“But if you touch her again, the police will receive the lobby footage, the elevator footage, and whatever evidence Ms. Bennett chooses to provide.”
Evan’s smile vanished.
“You record your private elevators?”
“Every square foot except restrooms.”
Clare looked sharply at Luca.
He had not mentioned that.
Which meant the camera had recorded her crying.
Her bruises.
Perhaps more importantly, it had recorded the moment Evan had confronted her upstairs before she entered the elevator.
Luca understood what she was thinking.
“The footage belongs to the company,” he said. “You decide whether it leaves the building.”
That mattered.
He could have used it.
Instead, he had handed control back to her.
Evan picked up the ring.
“You’ll call me tomorrow.”
Clare shook her head.
“No.”
He walked away.
The revolving doors swallowed him into the Manhattan rain.
Only when he disappeared did Clare’s shoulders sag.
Luca did not touch her.
That restraint was harder than anyone in the lobby could have understood.
The cab arrived.
Clare turned toward him.
“Thank you.”
“For the cab?”
“For not becoming what everyone says you are.”
Luca’s expression tightened.
“What does everyone say I am?”
She looked toward his security men.
“You know.”
He did.
Clare stepped into the cab.
Luca watched until its taillights disappeared.
Then he turned toward his head of security.
“Marco.”
The older man approached.
“Boss.”
“Preserve tonight’s security footage. Nobody watches it. Nobody copies it. Nobody sends it anywhere unless Clare Bennett personally authorizes it.”
Marco nodded.
Luca began walking toward the elevators.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
Luca stopped.
Marco covered the phone.
“Someone just accessed the twenty-third-floor security archive remotely.”
Luca turned slowly.
“Who?”
“We’re tracing it.”
“Was anything downloaded?”
Marco listened.
His eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
Luca’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“What?”
“The elevator footage.”
Across Manhattan, Clare’s cab stopped at a red light.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed her inside the elevator.
Crying.
May you like
Underneath it were six words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT THE RING BACK ON.
