Page 84 of Inevitable Endings
The emptiness is suffocating, the silence surrounding it all louder than the brief bullet points on the page. Whoever Lorenzo is, he’s someone powerful, someone with enough money to stir the waters.
“We need to find out more about him,” I say, my voice full of urgency. “There’s something we’re missing. There’s a reason they’re offering this kind of deal.”
I feel a knot of frustration and anger tighten in my chest. We’re at a dead end. I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve missed something crucial, but no matter how much I search, it all feelslike empty words.
“This is useless,” I mutter, my voice full of defeat. “We’ve hit a wall. We don’t know who Lorenzo is, and nothing in these files tells us anything. My path to the heart is taken away.”
Ada’s voice is calm, a steadying force in the chaos swirling around me. “We’ll go through the files again,” she reassures me, her tone firm. “There’s always a chance we missed something. Maybe there’s a detail we overlooked or a pattern we haven’t seen yet. If there’s anything more on this Lorenzo, we’ll find it. We just need to dig deeper.”
Her words, though simple, give me a sliver of hope. Maybe there’s still a way forward. But the truth keeps gnawing at me. My path to Dominik, the one I thought I could climb to get answers and his help, is gone now. He’s unreachable. Maybe he already has searched for Aslanov, but wasn’t able to find him. I have no idea, I don’t know anything. It feels like my whole world just crumbled. I’m at the bottom again, no closer to him, no closer to the answers I need.
We need to start all over again.
Chapter 38
Gone Before I Knew It
Isabella
I push open the gas station door, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. The place is bigger than the last one, clean, fully stocked, the kind of stop that feels almost too normal after everything. The smell of burnt coffee lingers in the air, and right now, I need it. Something strong, something grounding.
“I need coffee,” I mutter, heading for the machines.
Ada walks beside me, scanning the store the way she always does. “If it’s anything like the last one, I’d rather drink bleach.”
I huff a quiet laugh, grabbing a cup. But as soon as my fingers wrap around it, a deep pressure blooms in my lower stomach.
I pause.
It’s probably nothing. Stress. Lack of sleep. My body reminding me how much I’ve been pushing it. I shake it off and reach for the coffee pot, but the moment I straighten, a sharp, twisting pain grips me so hard I have to suck in a breath.
“Isabella?” Ada’s voice sharpens, cautious now.
I swallow against the sudden nausea, pressing a hand to my stomach. “I—I need the bathroom.”
I abandon the coffee and walk fast, too fast, toward the back of the store, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. The second I step into the stall, another wave of pain crashes through me, sharper this time, deeper.
And then—warmth.
Something isn’t right.
Dread coils in my gut as I fumble with my jeans, my breath quick and uneven. When I finally look down, my stomach drops.
Blood.
Too much.
I stare, uncomprehending, my mind struggling to catch up with what my body is telling me. This isn’t normal.
“Ada,” I whisper, my voice barely there.
The stall door swings open, and she’s there, crouching beside me before I can even blink. The moment she sees the blood, her face goes tight.
“Shit,” she breathes. “Isabella, when was your last period?”
The question throws me. I open my mouth, but no answer comes. When was my last period? Never.
Everything’s been off—my sleep, my appetite, my moods.
