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“I need to know what will happen to her.”
“Lucien will try to get information from her. I can’t promise he won’t scare her, but I do promise he won’t hurt her, and he will keep her safe. And Lucien didn’t want her to be taken. That was all Devil’s idea.”
I remembered how angry Lucien had seemed with him. I had so many conflicting feelings. How was I supposed to know what to do? “I need some time alone to think.”
“That’s fine. I can show you to Lucien’s room. Just don’t leave the property.”
“Would you let me if I wanted to?”
She shrugged. “I believe we should all be able to make our own choices, but I don’t think you truly want to run. What you need to ask yourself is whether you’re brave enough to be an anchor for Lucien when this all gets to be too much for him because that’s what he needs.”
I wasn’t sure if I could do that or not. “I appreciate you talking to me and”—I looked down at the tea and cookies I hadn’t touched—“trying to feed me.”
“Would you like some food to take to your room? You do need to eat.”
There was a knot in my stomach and the last thing I wanted right then was food. “No thank you. I’m not hungry.”
She rose, and I followed her down the hall. Before she left me, she said, “I’ve never seen my nephew look at a man the way he looks at you. He really does need someone like you to take care of him.”
“He doesn’t seem to want that when I offer.”
She snorted. “He’s a very intelligent man in many ways, but when it comes to what he needs for himself, he’s an idiot.” She pulled me into a hug, then walked away. I lay on Lucien’s bed, staring at the ceiling, and let myself fantasize about what my life could be like if Lucien truly loved me.
26
Lucien
When I entered the kitchen, only Sabrina sat at the bar, sipping a cup of tea. “Where’s Peter?”
“He wanted to be alone, so I showed him to your room.”
“I told you to stay with him.”
She glared at me. “He needed time to think. He’s been through a hell of a lot in the last few days.”
She was right, but I still didn’t like the idea of him being out of sight of someone I trusted implicitly. “I need to talk to him.”
“Go easy on him, Lucien. He cares about you a lot, more than he wants to I think, and you need someone like him.”
It made me feel weak, but she was right. I did need him. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw the ponies. He was so fucking happy. Then Devil called and everything went to shit. I should send Peter somewhere safe.”
“I was going to suggest you spend a few hours in bed with him.”
“Dammit, Sabrina. You know I don’t have time for this right now. Elena says Damian is speeding up his timeline. I need to keep Peter safe. You need to keep yourself safe. I’ve got to focus on our plan of attack because we aren’t going to win this.”
“Of course we are. Go talk to Peter, then go get Ricci and make him pay.”
I opened the door to the room I slept in when I was at the Weston house, but I didn’t see Peter. He wasn’t on the chaise or on the bed or curled up on the floor the way I’d found him the first night after I’d made him move in with me. “Peter? Peter, come out right now.”
No response.
I checked the bathroom, but he wasn’t in there either or in the closet.
The French doors that opened onto the patio were unlocked, but there was no sign of him outside. I called his name but received no answer.
I hurried back to the kitchen. “He’s gone.”
Sabrina jumped, sloshing tea from her cup.
“What?”
“He’s not in my room or on the patio.”
“He just seemed tired and confused. He wasn’t angry with you. I don’t think he would’ve run.”
“I need everyone on alert. Now. We’ve got to find him.”
“Go get your brother. I’ll talk to our head of security.”
I ran to my office. Thankfully, Angelo and my father were still there. “Peter’s gone. He told Sabrina he was going to his room, but he’s not there, and he’s not answering his phone.”
“Have you searched the house?” Angelo asked
“Sabrina is working on that now.”
“You do realize you could be wrong about the boy,” my father said. “He could’ve left to let Ricci know his wife and kids are here.”
“No.” I refused to even let myself think that way. “Peter isn’t an informant.”
My father’s expression remained hard. “Don’t let yourself be blinded by your feelings.”
“I’m not.”
“Son—”
“Enough. I’m going to search for him.” I turned to my brother. “I need your help. The patio doors were unlocked, so I’m going to start outside.” Maybe he just went for a walk. It was cold, but the sun was out. Maybe he needed fresh air.
