15. Luca

FIFTEEN

Luca

"What the fuck was that?" Fiamma's voice cuts through the cold air, sharp and furious as we step out onto the mostly cleared sidewalk and head back toward the lodge.

I keep my eyes straight ahead, not answering. The ice chips crunch beneath our boots, and the green garland strung across the street soften the white all around. It should feel peaceful, picturesque even. But all I can feel is the storm brewing beside me, and it's anything but calm.

She stomps beside me, her breath visible in the freezing air. "Seriously, Luca, what's wrong with you? You came in like a crazy person and practically dragged me out of there. Can you not stand to be without me for a simple two hours?"

I clench my jaw, my fists tightening inside my coat pockets. I can feel her eyes on me, waiting for an explanation, but I don't give her one. Not yet.

The two of us walk in tense silence. The sounds of the carols and holiday cheer echo faintly around us—laughter from a nearby café, a distant chorus of carolers singing "Silent Night," and the jingle of bells as families walk by, their arms laden with shopping bags.

It's beautiful, really. Picture-perfect. But beneath it all, there's an edge of danger that never goes away. The kind of danger that Fiamma doesn't fully understand yet. Or maybe she does—hell, I don't know anymore.

The snow continues to fall gently, frosting the tops of cars and trees, as if the whole world is in on the cover-up. Nothing to see here, folks, just another day in the North Pole.

There's nothing normal about this Christmas, nothing peaceful about the chaos that seems to follow Fiamma everywhere she goes.

For ten minutes, we walk in silence, our breaths the only sound between us. Each step feels heavier than the last. The lodge looms ahead, a large structure nestled against the mountains, the warm lights from inside flickering through the frosted windows. Normally, I'd be relieved to see it. Today, it feels like a trap closing in around us.

She hasn't stopped fuming beside me, but she's not yelling anymore. I can sense her confusion, her frustration boiling just beneath the surface. And I know she deserves answers, but I want to sit down with her before I unload all of this. I want to read her face when I tell her.

We step into the suite, and I shut the door behind us, locking it. Fiamma is still fuming, but I can't let her emotions cloud the truth that she needs to hear. I walk over to the table and gesture for her to sit down.

She hesitates for a second, arms crossed, glaring at me. "What is this, Luca? Another lecture? Goddammit. You had me fooled, but you're just like the rest of them."

"Just sit down, Fiamma," I say, pulling out my phone. "You need to see this."

Her eyes narrow in confusion, but she sits. I pull up the footage, tapping a few buttons before sliding the phone across the table toward her. She leans in, watching the video as it plays. It's grainy, but clear enough to recognize faces.

"Who is that?" she asks, frowning. Her expression changes as she focuses on the figure, her eyes widening. "Wait… that's Arianna."

The video shows Arianna standing in a dimly lit alley, talking to someone—a tall man with his back turned to the camera. The timestamp is from the night before Marco kidnapped her. I've already watched this a hundred times, and I know what's coming.

"They're talking about you," I say. "Listen."

I turn up the volume, and the distorted voices fill the room. Arianna's voice is unmistakable, clear as she tells the man—Marco's guy—exactly how to get into the lodge without being noticed. She explains where the guards are stationed, how to avoid them, and specifically mentions the back door that would be unlocked. She's calm, methodical, like she's giving someone directions to a party, not to a kidnapping .

"How did she know that, Fiamma?" I ask, my voice low but hard. "How did Arianna know how to get around the guards and which door would be left open?"

Fiamma stares at the screen, her face pale, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "I… I don't know."

I pull the phone back, shutting it off. "Did you tell her? Did you help her plan your own kidnapping?"

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief. "What? No! Luca, are you serious?"

I cross my arms, leaning against the wall. "You expect me to believe that? She knew everything, Fiamma. The only way Marco could've pulled this off is if someone on the inside gave him the information. Arianna's been around you this whole time. She's your friend. Are you telling me you didn't tell her anything?"

Fiamma shakes her head frantically, her voice rising. "I didn't know! I had no idea Marco was even here! Why would I—why would I ever help someone like him? You know I hate him."

I take a step closer, my voice dropping. "You're sure? Because right now, my worst fear is that you set this whole thing up—just to get away. Maybe Marco went crazy, and it got out of hand, but you were trying to escape from me, from the lodge. Was that it?"

She stares at me, her face twisting with shock and hurt. "Luca, no! I would never do that! I didn't even know he was here in Colorado. Arianna—she told me she was going to drop something off for me at the lodge. That's the only reason I told her how to get in. I never imagined I couldn't trust her. "

I grit my teeth, running a hand through my hair. This is a nightmare. The evidence, the video, it all points to Arianna working with Marco. The fact that she had hooked up with him in the past and Arianna is someone she spends a lot of time with makes it all look suspect.

"I'm telling you I had no idea about any of this. I almost died out there, Luca. No, I did not orchestrate any of this. It's absurd that you would even suggest that."

"She knew Marco was obsessed with you, Fiamma," I say, my tone softer now. "It has something to do with that, I just don't know how he convinced her to turn on you, or what she had to gain."

Fiamma's face crumples, her hands trembling. "No… She wouldn't… Arianna wouldn't do that to me."

But the doubt is there now, flickering in her eyes. She's starting to realize the truth, even if she doesn't want to accept it.

"She did, Fiamma," I say quietly. "And we need to figure out why."

I've got someone you will want to talk to.

Sal's message comes in just as we are trying to find some semblance of peace in this space. I'm not entirely convinced that Fiamma doesn't know more than she is letting on. She hates me that I would even suggest such a thing. But we are at an impasse .

I put Sal Moretti on the case, knowing if there is anyone out there with information about this, he will find him. And sure enough, it looks like he's come through.

"Get your coat, we're going on a trip," I bark at her. Then I text Sal back.

Tell me where you are and I will be there as quickly as I can.

I glance over at Fiamma, her face pale and tired, but there's no time for rest. Not yet. "You're coming with me," I say, pocketing my phone.

She looks up at me, confused. "What? Where?"

"I'm not leaving you alone, not after today. We need to figure out Arianna's part in all of this. Sal has something for us."

Her eyes widen, but she doesn't argue. She knows something's wrong, maybe feels it as much as I do. Whatever Sal's got, it's important. And I need her to hear it too.

Sal's message comes in just as we step out of the lodge. The cold air bites at my face as I read it, my jaw tightening.

Blackwood Forest.

The drive out of town is tense. The quiet between us feels like a heavy weight, hanging in the air, as if the forest itself is swallowing us whole. The snow is thick, blanketing the ground, and the trees stand tall and foreboding, casting long shadows over the trail. Blackwood is known for one thing among the Lucianas—disappearing people .

When we pull up, I see Sal standing beside his car. Lucky Gupta is tied to a tree like a Christmas present no one wants. Sal nods as we approach, his breath clouding in the freezing air.

"Thought you'd want to hear this one yourself," Sal says, pulling Lucky's head back by his hair.

Lucky's face is bruised, his eyes darting between me and Fiamma. His mouth opens, and he stammers, "L-look, I didn't want any of this, okay? Marco… Marco made me do it. He threatened my family. I'm the one that took you from the lodge, I'm sorry. But I didn't hurt you, I just delivered you as I was told to do. I'm so sorry. Please don't hurt me."

I crouch down in front of him, eye level. "Then start talking. Now. How is Arianna a part of this?"

Lucky swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Arianna—she was never really your friend," he says, looking at Fiamma. "She was planted by Marco, a year ago. The plan was always to get close to you, so she could feed Marco information."

I glance at Fiamma, her face white as a ghost. She stares at Lucky, eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears. But she doesn't interrupt. She needs to hear this.

"What's in it for her? Why did she do it?"

Lucky Is desperate now, spilling everything. "Arianna… she knew when you'd be vulnerable, how to get into the lodge, how to avoid the guards. She was the one who told Marco to come through the back door, told him it'd be unlocked."

Fiamma's breath hitches. "But I trusted her. How? Why? "

I stand up, taking a step back, watching her crumble inside. I hate seeing her like this, but she had to hear it. She had to know who her so-called friend really was.

Lucky's voice turns pleading, his eyes flicking between us. "Please, you gotta understand. I had no choice! Marco would've killed me if I didn't help."

I shake my head slowly, the weight of the truth settling in. "You think that changes anything?" I reach into my coat, pulling out my Benelli. "It was either going to be him or me."

Before he can say another word, I pull the trigger. The sound echoes through the trees, the shot clean between his eyes. His body slumps, lifeless, against the ropes on the tree, a red stain spreading across the white ground.

Sal steps forward without a word, already grabbing Lucky by the legs to drag him deeper into the forest. "I'll take care of this," he mutters, disappearing into the shadows.

I turn back to Fiamma, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the trees. She doesn't say anything, just looks at me with an expression I can't read. I reach out, pulling her close, but she doesn't melt into me like before. She's too hurt, too raw.

Without a word, I guide her back to the car. The drive back to the lodge is silent, neither of us speaking, the weight of everything that just happened. Finding out someone you care about betrayed you gives you about the worst feeling a person can have. I want to make it better, but I know there is nothing I can say or do. She has to process it and come to peace on her own .

What was supposed to be a vacation from brutality, has turned out to be one of the bloodiest Christmases I can remember.

And it's not over yet. We're still well over a week away. And there's still Arianna.