The Genius Heiress They Tried To Break

Luca POV

I waited twenty minutes.

"Elena," I called out, rapping my knuckles against the bathroom door. "You’re dragging this out."

Silence.

I knocked harder, impatience flaring in my chest. Still nothing.

With a curse, I kicked the door open.

Empty.

The window was thrown wide, the sheer curtains fluttering in the wind like restless ghosts. I rushed to the sill and looked down.

The fire escape.

She ran away.

I let out a sharp, frustrated breath and ran a hand through my hair. She was being impossible. A tantrum. That’s all this was. She was hurt, she was embarrassed, and she wanted me to chase her.

I wasn't going to play that game.

I left the hospital without a backward glance. I drove straight to the villa—our villa.

It was dark when I arrived.

"Elena?" I shouted.

My voice echoed off the marble walls, hollow and unanswered.

I walked into the kitchen. The counters were bare. Usually, there was a crystal vase filled with fresh lilies. Usually, the air carried a faint, comforting scent of vanilla.

Now, it smelled of nothing but cold air.

I checked the closet. Her clothes were there, hanging in neat rows. Her jewelry was there. Even the engagement ring I had given her—the one she had thrown into the pool—was sitting on the dresser, catching a stray beam of moonlight.

She hadn't taken anything.

"She’ll be back," I told the empty room, my voice rough. "She has nowhere else to go. She has no money. Her accounts are frozen. She’s just hiding in a motel, waiting for me to come save her."

I poured myself a stiff drink and waited.

Two days passed.

Then a week.

The silence in the house began to grate on me, turning from peaceful to oppressive.

I couldn't find my grey tie. Elena always laid it out for me, perfectly matched to my suit. I couldn't find the file on the port deal. Elena always organized the paperwork, anticipating exactly what I would need for the morning briefing.

The coffee tasted bitter. She was the one who calibrated the machine, dialing it in to perfection.

I sat in my office, staring at her empty desk across from mine.

"Where the hell are you?" I muttered to the dust motes dancing in the light.

My phone buzzed against the mahogany. It was Dante.

*Still no sign of the rat?*

I stared at the screen, a muscle ticking in my jaw.

*No,* I typed back.

*Good riddance,* Dante replied instantly. *Sofia is asking if you’re coming over. She needs help with the press release for the algorithm.*

I scoffed at the message. Sofia didn't know the first thing about the algorithm. I had to explain basic encryption to her three times yesterday, and she still looked at me with glazed eyes.

I missed Elena’s sharp mind. I missed the way she understood the complexities of my business before I even asked.

I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, needing to escape the suffocating quiet.

I stopped dead in the entryway.

Her rain boots were gone.

The ones she wore that night she stood outside my gate, shivering in the storm.

A cold feeling settled in my gut, heavy and leaden. A feeling I hadn't experienced in years.

Uncertainty.

I shook it off, forcing my shoulders back. She was bluffing. She was trying to scare me.

I walked out, slamming the door on the silence. But as I drove away, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, I couldn't shake the feeling that the house wasn't just empty.

It was dead.