Page 73 of Veil of Obsession

My eyes skim over the underlined line “omnia causa fiunt.” I kinda wish I had my phone with me because I would have been able to Google translate the phrase.

“Is there anything you want, young miss?” Alberta, one of the staff, asks. Her eyes are soft, the skin framing her eyes wrinkled, smile lines etched into her face.

I give her a small smile. “No, thank you.” She moves to leave, but I remember she grew up in Naples, so I ask, “Can you read Italian?”

She stops for a second, her hands twisting a small towel around. “Yes, I can. Is there anything you’d like?”

I get up, moving closer and opening the book, pointing my finger to the line. “Can you tell me what this phrase means?”

“Ominia causa fiunt.” She reads the line, her Italian accent even stronger. “It means everything happens for a reason.”

I let the words sink in, Alberta says something else, and when I don’t respond, she heads back inside.

Everything happens for a reason.

It feels like God, the universe, or whoever is laughing at me. As if I’m some sort of joke.

The sound of a car horn in the distance breaks me out of my trance. I drop the book back onto the table, and instead of staying out here, I decide to head back inside. The anxiety of not knowing what the hell is going on is eating me alive.

I don’t even know what the hell I’m supposed to do. Was he being truthful when he said he wanted to give us a go? If thereisan us.

I pull my laptop off my desk and settle on my bed. The cursor hovers over the security camera program, the one thing that is letting me into his apartment. The app takes a couple of seconds to open, the screen loading in.

I have four options: Camera 1, Camera 2, Camera 3 and Camera 4. I flick through them, hoping I’ll see that he’s in hisapartment, but…nothing. There’s no one there, and his place looks untouched. Coffee mugs sit on the table, dishes on the kitchen island.

28

Princess

Iknow I shouldn’t be doing this, but I do it anyway. Unlocking the door to Lucio’s apartment, I step in. Today is the third day since I last heard from that asshole. And stepping into his apartment, it seems like he hasn’t been here, just as I suspected.

Stepping inside, I close the door behind me, and my gaze sweeps over the area. The same coffee mug sits in the same position as yesterday, and that same plate right beside it.

Where the fuck could he have gone?

I move further inside, my fingers trailing along the edge of his counter. The place is too still, too untouched. If Lucio had been here recently, there’d be some sign of life, and I would have seen him on the hours of footage I have.

Frustration coils tight in my chest as I make my way toward his bedroom. The sheets on his bed are slightly rumpled, the imprint of his body long faded. I hesitate for only a second before pulling open his nightstand drawer. Nothing unusual—some loose change, a half-empty pack of cigarettes, and two boxes of condoms, half-full.

He’s relentless, isn’t he? Shaking my head, I check his closet next. His clothes are all there, hanging in neat rows, which means he didn’t pack to leave.

But Lucio isn’t the type to just vanish. He’s sloppy. He always leaves a trail.

I sigh, closing the walk-in closet doors.

Where the hell are you, Lucio?

Making my way back to the living room I check his desk, a few scribbled notes, that I struggle to make sense of. His laptop is shut, the screen dark. I press the power button, but it prompts me for a password. Of course.

There’s nothing. No sign of where he went, no clue as to why he hasn’t answered me. And the more I look, the more I come up empty-handed, the more reckless and uneasy I feel.

I let out a slow breath, pressing my fingers against my temples. My phone is heavy in my pocket, a reminder that Lucio isn’tmissing—he’savoidingme.

I know because he reads my messages. Every single one. I sent him another text this morning.

Me:

Where the fuck are you?