He means Boston. He means a thousand other nights we don't name after Elena died.
"Say what you're really thinking," I tell him.
"She could be a plant. She could be working you."
The words land in my chest and look around like they might like to plant suspicion there.
I don't let it stay.
"Women like Belle always have an agenda." He leans forward, voice dropping to a whisper. "She spreads her legs, bats those green eyes, and suddenly the mighty Luca Moretti is pussy-whipped and stupid."
The words detonate in my chest. I'm around the desk before conscious thought kicks in, my fist connecting with his jaw in a satisfying crack of bone on bone.
"Jesus Christ, Luca!" Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth.
"Talk about her like that again," I say, "and I'll break more than your pretty face."
He works his jaw. "You're defending her after what I just showed you?"
"What you showed me is that you've been stalking my fiancée and invading her privacy."
"I'm protecting our family!"
"No." I round the desk, get right in his face. "You're undermining me. Trying to drive a wedge between Belle and me because you can't stand that I might actually be happy."
Declan's eyes narrow. "You think this is about your happiness? This is about survival. She could be anyone, Luca. FBI. Rival. Or just a gold-digger with good timing."
"She's none of those things."
"How can you be so sure?"
I'm not. That's the bitch of it. Belle's been distant lately. Something's off, and we both know it.
But like hell am I giving Declan the satisfaction.
I clench my fists at my sides, willing myself not to hit him again. "You've said your piece. Now get out."
Declan sighs, like I'm the unreasonable one here. "Fine. I've done my duty as your brother. What you do with the information is up to you."
He heads for the door, pauses. "Just ask yourself this: if she's not hiding anything, why hasn't she told you where she's been going?"
The door closes behind him.
I stand there, thinking of Belle with her secrets.
No.
I refuse to let Declan plant these seeds of doubt. Belle has her reasons. Maybe she's scared. Maybe she's not sure how to tell me. Maybe she's not even keeping secrets, and this is all just another one of Declan's mind games.
Only one way to find out.
I need to find Belle.
But she's not in her room. Not in the kitchen. Not in the garden where she sometimes reads.
"Have you seen Belle?" I ask one of the maids.
She shakes her head. "Not since this morning, sir. She was baking with Miss Sofia."