8. Luxtyn

8

LUXTYN

I stabbed a man.

It's not something I've ever done before, but it's something I'd do again in a heartbeat to save my mom. Clearly Matteo makes the calls between him and Enzo, which is why I stabbed him.

If these assholes think I'll roll over and just let them kidnap me, they're sorely mistaken. I might be asking for my death sentence, but something tells me they're not going to kill me. I mean, I stabbed him for crying out loud. If they were going to kill me, they would've done it by now.

"Do you think you can keep your hands to yourself?" Enzo asks from behind me.

"Sure," I offer and he chuckles at my nonchalant response before releasing his hold on me.

"I'm watching you now, Luxtyn," he says before he nudges me, silently telling me to follow Matteo to the elevators.

After some high-tech elevator technology scans Matteo's hands and eyes, the doors open for the three of us to step inside the small space. After what feels like the longest minute of my life, it dings, letting us off at the top floor.

I follow Matteo off the elevator, which opens into a grand foyer with high ceilings. I'm sure my mouth falls open at the sight of the extravagant entryway. The walls are black with doors that have geometric windowpanes and gold accents. Walking around the corner, he leads us through a massive living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooks the city lights.

The luxurious view matches the interior design, with lots of black features paired with the high contrasting gold accents. You'd think the black would be too overpowering for the space, but with the sleek marble floors and the ivory furniture, it gives it an art deco feel with lots of natural sunlight being cast in through the windows.

I study Matteo's broad back as he leads us down a hallway lined with minimalist textured art pieces hanging on the walls. If it weren't for the inch-long tear in his suit jacket, you'd never know I stabbed the man. He continues to walk with perfect posture, shoulders set back, head held high, not even a hitch in his step. It's unsettling how unfazed he is by it.

"I'll meet you both back here. Rocco texted me on our way back that Doc was waiting on us, so I'm going to have him patch me up real quick and make sure no vital organs were damaged during my assault," he grumbles before stopping at a door and turning back around to narrow his gaze on me.

"Don't let her out of your sight." He glances up at Enzo, who is directly behind me. "And maybe check her for any other weapons. I'd prefer not getting stabbed again," he adds before turning to walk down the hall.

"C'mon, you little spitfire. Let's get you inside before the boss gets too mad," he says with a playful tone before pushing the door open and gesturing for me to walk in .

The office conveys a similar black, gold, and ivory theme, except this room has a chevron designed light hardwood floor.

"Now, Luxtyn, I'd really appreciate it if you'd make this easy and be honest with me. Do you have any more weapons hiding somewhere, or do I need to strip search you?"

Whipping around, the color drains from my face. He can't be serious. . .

Raising a brow at me, Enzo chuckles. "My brother might not be too happy with me if I do that, so how about you save me from that potential disaster and tell me the truth?"

So they're brothers. Makes sense with how similar they look.

"No," I blurt. "I don't have any other weapons on me. Your boss took the only one I had."

Enzo tracks his gaze up and down my body, as if he's trying to see if I'm hiding anything beneath my leggings, boots, and plain black sweatshirt.

"Where did you even get that pocketknife?"

"My mom gave it to me when I was fifteen. She told me to carry it with me everywhere. I checked my bag so I would have it with me here. You never know what kind of situation you could get yourself in." Obviously.

Enzo laughs, displaying that friendly smile that fooled me into putting myself in this dire situation. "I like you, Luxtyn. Keep up that strong-willed personality and you'll do just fine here."

"What does that mean?" I ask, taking a few steps toward him. I should get as far away from my kidnappers as possible, but I'm still not convinced these guys want to hurt me. So that begs the question. "Why would you guys kidnap my mom?"

Enzo's smile vanishes from his face, and I swear a look of sympathy flashes through his eyes. "Everything will be explained to you shortly."

"Just tell me now. How can you play coy with me? What did me or my mom ever do to you guys?" My voice grows louder with each question until I'm screaming at him. "Why would you take her?"

Matteo appears in the doorway behind Enzo wearing a pair of dark pants and a white button-up, no jacket, with the first few buttons undone, giving me a glimpse of his smooth tan chest with dark ink peeking through. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms branded with the same dark ink.

Tattoos.

Great.

That just adds to his overall appeal, which irritates me because the last thing I need to be feeling is any attraction to my kidnapper. I must be disturbed.

"We haven't taken your mother," he says as Enzo steps to the side, leaving nothing but tension filled space in between his brother and I.

"Bullshit," I say, staying rooted in place. "You already told me you did, so don't lie to me now."

Matteo takes a few steps into the room, easily closing the distance between us. I have to crane my neck to keep my gaze on his.

"I told you that we hold the fate of your mother in our hands. You made the assumption that we have her and that assumption is incorrect."

He stalks around me, like I'm nothing but a measly construction cone in his way, causing me to whip around. I follow him while he makes his way around his desk, then takes a relaxed seat in his black leather chair. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, stopping in front of his desk.

His lip curls into a smirk. "Sit down."

"I don't take orders from you," I snap.

"Sit. Down," he commands. "Or you won't get any information out of me." He raises a brow, waiting to see how I proceed, and as much as I don't want to submit to him and don't trust a word he says, I reluctantly take a seat in the chair next to his brother. What other choice do I have? I have to play along. For now, at least.

Matteo sits up in his seat, setting his forearms on the desk. "Your father just got here. My head of security is bringing him up. Once you speak to him about everything that's going on, we can talk about your mother's whereabouts."

Exasperated with this dad storyline, I slam my hands on his desk. "I don't have a dad here, okay? You have the wrong person."

"Luxtyn?" A low, yet soft voice comes from behind me. I turn in my seat just as an older gentleman makes his way into the room.

He's wearing an expensive-looking navy-blue suit with a white button-up underneath. His slicked-back hair is mostly silver with darker strands sprinkled throughout, and his goatee beard is freshly trimmed. The slight creases in his forehead and on the outer corners of his eyes have me guessing he's in his fifties.

I narrow my eyes on him. "Who are you?"

"Come on in, Mancini," Matteo says from behind me. The older man's soft eyes remain on mine as he proceeds forward. The addition of another man to this kidnapping should alarm me, but there's a vulnerability in his eyes.

What the hell is going on?

"You look just like her," he says softly as he continues to stare at me.

Matteo clears his throat, making me realize he's stepped out from behind his desk and is standing next to me. "Maybe you should introduce yourself. She's been quite the headache since I retrieved her from the airport for you, so I'd appreciate it if we could get this show on the road. Doc is here and ready to take your DNA samples."

"Excuse me?" I peer up at Matteo. "I'm not giving you any DNA." What the hell is going on here? Nothing is making sense, and this is a waste of time when I could be going to the police about my mom.

Matteo looks down his nose at me, like I'm some petulant child he doesn't want to deal with. "Relax. I'm not trying to clone you or whatever dramatic situation you've drawn up in that mind of yours. The DNA sample is just to prove whether you two are related."

"You two," I repeat, glancing back at the older gentleman. "As in him and I?" I point between the two of us.

"That's right, Luxtyn," the older man says. "I knew your mother, Char. . . or Charlotte." He chuckles to himself. "I used to call her Char back when I knew her. I'm not sure if she still goes by that."

She does, but that's beside the point. Who the hell is this guy?

"I know this is going to be difficult to hear, but I believe I'm your father, Luxtyn." He takes another step closer as I rise out of my chair, not sure how to respond. Not sure how to react . "My name's Angelo Mancini."

Angelo Mancini.

That name.

Why does it sound so familiar?

Wait . . .

Angelo . . .

Heat floods my face as recognition hits me.

I know that name.