Eyes So Blue I Drown

39| Nightmare And Reality

ARABELLA

As the video ends, his anger flares, his clenched fists a testament to his emotions. "The voice in the background..." he mutters, his eyes narrowing as he puts the pieces together.

"That is... Romano." The revelation hits us like a ton of bricks.

Everything we thought we knew is unraveling, and the truth is more sinister than we could have ever imagined. The man Luca trusted is implicated in these horrifying acts.

Everything is becoming clear now. But who was that person near the pool, again? He definitely has some information regarding it.

Luca's anger reaches a boiling point, and in his fury, he throws the speaker of the computer at the screen. I flinch at the sudden crash, my heart racing as I take a step back, my eyes wide in shock.

"Luca..." I mumble. I watch as Luca's face turns into an unhealthy shade, his features contorted in discomfort. Not with anger, but with sickness.

Without a second thought, I'm by his side, my concern for him overriding any reservations I might have had. He stumbles out of chair, his movements unsteady, and I follow him quickly as he heads towards the bathroom.

"Luca, are you okay?" I ask, my voice laced with worry.

He doesn't answer, his hand clutching his stomach as he reaches the bathroom just in time. I hear the sound of him retching, and my heart clenches in sympathy. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and unwell, brings a surge of emotions to the surface.

I enter the bathroom, finding him hunched over the toilet, his forehead beaded with sweat. Carefully, I gather his hair away from his forehead. A layer of sweat emerging on his skin. His breathing is labored, and it's clear that he's in a lot of discomfort.

"Easy, Luca," I murmur softly, rubbing his back in soothing circles. "It's going to be okay."

He leans against me slightly, his grip on the toilet loosening.

After a few more retches, he slumps back, by taking support of the wall he sits down, his breathing ragged. I grab a nearby towel and wet it with cool water, gently wiping his face to offer some relief.

He looks up at me, his eyes tired and unfocused. "I'm sorry," he mutters hoarsely.

"Don't apologize," I say firmly, my worry for him evident in my voice. "You're not feeling well. Just focus on resting."

The weight of his responsibilities is taking a toll on him.

He looks at me, his eyes a tempest of emotions, and I see the battle raging within him, there's pain in his eyes. "He played us," he says, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and betrayal. "We have been working for the man who took away our loved ones from us."

I can see the weight of that realization and effects of alcohol crashing down on him. But the mobile belongs to someone named Kingsley... it's not just about Romano.

While we're grappling with the shocking revelations, a sudden shout from the door jolts us both.

Fantino's voice echoes through the room, urgent and breathless, "Boss!"