Page 67 of Cruel Deception
“Oh my God... What’s the name of the gang?” I asked, almost breathless.
“If I tell you,” he said slowly, “what exactly will you do with the name?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted quickly. “But please. Please help me. It would mean everything—”
He cut me off. “Only I can get her out. Not Cassian. Not anyone in the Moretti family.”
I closed my eyes, desperation blooming in my throat. “Okay. Please. Please do. Anything you want in return—just please, help me.”
My voice cracked, and I didn’t care. I was ten when my mother vanished. Finding her had been the fire behind everything I did. I would give anything. Be anything.
Luca was quiet, then finally said, “Have you signed those divorce papers yet? Has he?”
I froze. There it was.
“No,” I stuttered. “Cassian will never let me go, even if I wanted out. He—he’s not that kind of man.”
“Then I have no reason to help you,” Luca replied coldly.
“No—no, you don’t understand.” My voice rose with panic. “He forced the marriage on me. Do you really think that kind of man would just... sign a paper and let me go?”
There was another long pause.
Then he said it.
“The Romani Syndicate.”
My heart stopped. The name dropped like a bomb.
“What?”
“They’re the ones holding your mother.”
Romani Syndicate. I’d never heard of them before, but the way he said it—like the devil himself lived behind that name—made the hairs on my arms rise.
“What do I do now?” I whispered.
“You?” He laughed softly. “Nothing. Unless I help you. And I want to. Your mother has suffered enough.”
I swallowed hard, the burn of tears threatening. “So what now?”
“Meet me at my estate,” he said. “By six. Don’t be late.”
“Why?” I asked, suddenly remembering Cassian’s warning not to leave the estate without telling him.
“I’ll be connecting you with someone. A trusted contact who can help you. But it’ll cost money. If you don’t have it, I’ll loan it to you—for now.”
Then he added casually, “Also, I’ve purchased your grandfather’s house. The one your father sold.”
I froze. “You what?”
“It’s in your name now. The documents will be waiting for you.”
Something bloomed in my chest. That house was sacred. My childhood, my roots. My father had sold it like it meant nothing. And now...
“Thank you,” I whispered. “But why? Why are you not angry at me?”
“Who says I’m not angry?” Luca’s voice chilled. “But not at you. My brother is the problem. I’ll deal with him. We’ll talk more later.”
