Page 71 of Diary from an Inked Throne

I stood and went to him, wrapping my arms around his middle, not at all sure if the affection would be welcome or if he’d shove me away.

But he held me tightly, his strong arms holding my head to his chest. And I held him back just as tight, feeling the sharp rise and fall of his chest even out into something calmer beneath my touch.

Bruno watched us. “I’ll give you all some time alone. But, Luca, I really don’t think your father killed Virginia. He had a reason to want you dead. What reason would he have for killing her? Your father was many things, but he didn’t do things without reason.”

“To hurt me?” Luca suggested.

Bruno watched the way Luca clung to me. “If he was trying to hurt you, I think there’s other people he could have gone after rather than a housemaid who had been loyal to him for decades.”

Those words fell on silence.

Because he was right.

Splitting the four of us apart had hurt us more than anything.

Virginia’s death just didn’t make sense.

“We need to know where that bus was going.” I stepped back so I could see all three of my men. “And why Virginia got on it in the first place.”

None of us considered the fact we could just look up the bus routes on the good old internet, in order to work out which one came past the Guerra mansion. I put it down to the fact we were all tired, hungover, and emotionally strung out. But in the moment, we all stared at each other, and when I suggested that we would have to wait ’til Monday to call them, nobody corrected me.

Dax came up with a plan for us to visit his father, and since the morning sun was already well and truly up, he shot off a text to his dad, asking if they could have a family dinner and discussion.

We all went to bed, slept through the entire day, and it was almost dinner time before the four of us came back together. Dax confirmed his dad had invited us all over for a meal that night and we were due there in thirty minutes.

With a clearer head, I sheepishly suggested we could have just looked up the bus route online, and all three of them blinked at that realization.

Luca screwed up his too-handsome face. “Well, I feel dumb.”

I giggled. “Me too.” I’d done a quick bit of research. “The bus that comes past here at the time stamped on the footage just goes into the main street of Providence, then onto Saint View. Nothing special.”

Dax sighed, his frustration evident in the tight set of his shoulders. “So that’s a dead end. All we know is she was probably killed somewhere around here. Super helpful.”

I squeezed his fingers, knowing his frustration wasn’t just about his mom.

It was about James, and that it felt like we were just killing time, waiting for someone to bring him home to us.

“Is there any news from your guys?” I asked Luca, knowing I didn’t need to explain that I was asking for information on our son.

Luca’s shoulders slumped, and there was so much pain in his expression it hurt to see it.

I just nodded, knowing that look meant there was nothing. Enzo’s trail had gone cold a few days ago, and there’d been no sign of him since.

Lynx fit his hands to the back of my neck and rubbed slow circles on the tense muscles there. “There’s nothing we can do right now. This is why we didn’t want you out there on the road. Because trails go cold all the time. He’ll resurface. He always does. And when that happens, the guys will pick up the search again. He’s probably just lying low because of all the media coverage. We just have to be patient.”

I wanted to wail that I had been patient. That I’d waited. I’d healed my body from the physical wounds it had suffered during birth.

But there was no healing my heart. Not when it just wanted to be out there scouring the streets, even if it was aimless.

Lynx dug his fingers into the tight muscles at the back of my neck. “You’re allowed to keep living, even though he’s not here with us. You have to, Nyah. Don’t let your head tell you you can’t.”

I wiped my fingers beneath my eyes and forced a smile, aiming it at Dax. “Let’s go have dinner with your family. I think I’d really like that right now.”

“If you’re sure.”

I was.

Dax’s family home was a sweet, suburban house on the Saint View-Providence border, where the properties were neither upscale mansions nor the run-down government-provided housing that dominated the two towns. The porch light cast a yellow glow over a pretty red painted door, potted plants that had been recently watered decorating the steps.