23. Luke

After textingCian and G to get back here, I stare at the recording again. The same black outfit, covered from head to toe, and the same mask are in place, but…

“What is it?” Cian asks, coming into my bedroom, followed closely by G and Victoria, who I wasn’t expecting to see.

Cian ignores her, the same as she ignores him, but why did Victoria arrive with Gianluca?

“A third box?” Victoria spits out. “And no one thought to tell me?”

“Well, you know now, apparently,” I mutter, giving G a fierce glare. Why did he tell her? Was he with her? That makes me suspicious. Has he been playing an attraction to her close to his chest? Has she? What the fuck is going on?

Cian glares at her, G and then me. “What did you find?”

“Right,” I murmur, going back to the monitors. “This.” I replay it for a fifth time, seeing it with even more clarity now.

The three of them lean in closer. I can smell Victoria’s perfume mixed with G’s expensive aftershave, making my stomach flip-flop with nerves.

“Don’t know what I’m looking at,” Cian says eventually.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Here is the recording from yesterday.” I mentally bitch slap myself for the cock up. Of course, they aren’t going to notice anything without the two side by side.

They lean in closer, and I practically mewl with longing at having Victoria’s hair tickling my cheek.

“Son of a bitch!” she spits out and jabs my three thousand quid monitor so hard, it rocks back on the desk, and I grab it with a scathing glare at her, which she doesn’t even see because she is too busy fuming at the screen,

“What?” Cian asks. “What the fuck is it?”

“It’s a different person!” she exclaims loudly in my ear before straightening up. “What the fuck? Do I have two stalkers or does this asshole have a delivery service?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” Cian says, finally turning to her to grip her hand tightly. They exchange a look that no one else should be privy to, except me and G are here, witnessing this fucked up thing called obsession between the two of them.

But it’s not just an obsession. There’s an even more fucked-up kind of ownership, like they’re both holding the deed to each other’s darkest desires. For the first time, I see what they have is deeper than most relationships will ever go, and it twists the knife a little harder in my gut.

“So, what’s our play?” I ask because practicality has to override the acid burn of jealousy clawing up my throat.

Cian lets go of Victoria’s hand and steps back, his posture all business now. “We set a trap.”

Victoria crosses her arms, fury in her eyes that can make you feel stripped bare with just one look. “A trap, how? Lie in wait for one of these fuckers to show up? Fuck that. They know when I’m out. They’re watching me.”

Her voice trembles with rage, and I want to reach out and reassure her. Only I keep my hands to myself because it’s not my place.

Gianluca, who’s been quiet this whole time, steps up, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “We could use decoys. Switch up the routine.”

Cian nods at Gianluca’s suggestion before his gaze flicks over to me expectantly. This is where I come in, the techie, the one who can make the impossible seem effortless.

“I can rig up some surveillance around the house—more than what we have,” I say, already pulling up schematics and camera angles in my head. “We’ll catch whoever the fuck is doing this.”

Cian takes her hand again, this time squeezing it fiercely. With that edge in his voice that means business, he says, “You’ll have someone with you at all times. I’m moving in.”

I feel a surge of protectiveness and silently volunteer myself for the role as well. Not a good idea when personal emotions are supposed to be locked down tight, but fuck it.

“Oh, fuck that,” she growls. “I don’t need babysitters.”

“Not babysitters,” I murmur. “Big strong mafia guys who will die before they let anything happen to you.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Cian’s gaze flicks to mine, his face tight. But he doesn’t shut me down. If anything, he encourages it with a swift nod.

“Luke is right,” he mutters. “We can’t leave anything to chance. This has gone from an annoyance to fucked up in three days. I’m not risking you.”

“What was even in the third box?” she asks.

“Roses soaked in blood and with a note, written in blood that says: mine.”

“Mine,” she repeats. “Mine? Who the fuck are these dicks?”

“I say one dick,” G pipes up before I can say the same. “These idiots showing up to deliver the boxes are what you said, delivery men, nothing more. This player knows what he’s doing and isn’t about to get caught.”

“Agreed,” Cian says, again before I get to open my mouth.

I’m starting to feel like the guy with no opinion. Maybe I am. Maybe I had delusions of grandeur and my place in this world.

“Luke,” Victoria says, her gaze fixed on me. “You’ve studied this feed. What do you think?”

I could kiss her feet and call her my goddess for including me, for making me feel validated and part of the team right when I wondered if I actually had a place here after all.

I straighten up, narrowing my eyes as I focus on what I know, on what I’ve observed by monitoring these security feeds, reading patterns and behaviour like some people read books. “I think it’s all too calculated,” I say confidently. “The timing of the deliveries, the way they aren’t avoiding our current surveillance, just covering up—it’s professional, it’s personal, and it’s fucking creepy.”

Victoria nods slowly, her eyes flashing with respect. “So how do we flush a bastard like that out?”

“We’ve got to make them think they’re still in control while we pull the strings,” I state. “Get more aggressive with our own moves—up the ante.”

“Such as?” Cian prompts. His intrigue is unmistakable; he thrives on shit like this. We all do.

“The three of us moving into Victoria’s townhouse. More people coming and going will throw their plans into the air. They will have to scramble to adjust. That’s when people make mistakes.”

Victoria’s eyes narrow. She’s not one to be cowed, not by anyone or anything, and the thought of her living space being invaded clearly pisses her off. “Like hell, you will. That is my space, my sanctuary, not some mafia commune.”

Cian leans in closer to her, lowering his voice to a persuasive growl. “We need to cover every fucking angle, Victoria. Do you think I want the bastard who sent those boxes getting to you because we didn’t close every possible loophole? No chance.”

Her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t pull away from him. A silent battle plays out in her eyes before she finally nods, tight-lipped.

I clear my throat, bringing attention back to the matter at hand. “Plus, I’ll upgrade the security system—top-tier shit. They won’t be able to take a piss without us knowing about it.”

Gianluca smirks at that. “Guess this means we’re having a sleepover. I’ll bring my own coffee.”

Victoria rolls her eyes, but there’s a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her lips now. “Fine. But I’m not your fucking maid. You clean up after your fucking selves. And do not take that as an invitation not to tidy up. My place is spotless, and I intend to keep it that way. You’d better not be a bunch of pigs.”

“I’m a Prince,” G says huffily. “I am no pig.”

“If that’s what we’re basing it on, I’m an Earl, so no pigginess here either,” I say with a smirk, knowing I’m the neatest person I know. Mess irritates me.

Cian’s smile is predatory, filled with a dark promise that sends a shiver down my spine. “You have our word,” he says.

We all know it’s not just about the physical threat anymore; it’s psychological warfare—a game of chess with Victoria as the prize and her stalker as the opponent readying for checkmate.

“Well then,” Victoria says, “Let’s get this shit started. I want this asshole thinking he’s winning right until the moment we close the trap on his fingers.”

Cian is the picture of control, but his eyes are hard as flint when he stares at her. “Do you have any fucking idea who this fuckface is?”

A silent war rages between them, leaving me and G completely out in the cold.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Not off the top of my head.”

“Make a list, we’ll check it twice,” I murmur.

She snorts, breaking off the glare with Cian. “Like bad fucking Santa.”

“You know it, rosebud.”

We share a laugh, but then Cian clears his throat. “Let’s move.” He stalks out, leaving me and Victoria to stare at each other, things left unsaid that need to be spoken. But now isn’t the time. Moving into her townhouse will give us all the opportunity we need.

“Eyes inside,” G says, almost absently as he gazes at Victoria. “Non-negotiable.”

“Like fuck,” she growls.

“I said non-negotiable, princess. Which part of that did you not understand?”

I stifle my snort as she opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish.

Oh, this is going to be good. It seems that Victoria has met her match with the three of us, surrounding her. Fun doesn’t even cover what I expect the next few days to be like. Doesn’t cover it at all.