Bad Ideas

I rushed down to the lab like a mad woman. All my work was gone, up in smoke like it was never there. It was done so cleanly, so well, that even the nosy reporters had yet to notice. I spoke to an officer, thankfully, no one was hurt, and the security guards were being questioned.

Security footage showed a figure in black, face obscured, methodically smashing equipment and stealing hard drives. My notes on The Forbidden Equation—years of work—were shredded, scattered like snow across the floor.

But it was the precision of the destruction that chilled me.

They hadn’t just damaged things at random.

They’d targeted specific things. It seemed they knew exactly what they were looking for and where it was.

The neural prototypes—gone.

The chemical formulas are erased.

The backup servers—wiped.

Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.

But who could it be? At first, I thought it was Mr. Stalker. After all, this wouldn’t be his first attempt at arson. He had done it before back in high school, not fully sure what happened that day, but he burned down our fancy chemistry lab and that was what he became famous for. Also, didn’t he promise to burn my lab down just a few hours ago?

But it didn’t make sense. According to the footage, the time when the arson was happening, he would have been making his way to my house. Besides, he didn’t know about the forbidden equation. No one does. That is my private research. Even when the government offered me this position, the condition was that I would assist in medical research to boost the nation’s medical field, and as a reward I would get government funding for my private research. The details of this research were only known to me. Or so I thought.

Since someone intentionally targeted my work so meticulously, I was starting to think that more people know about this work than should.

Was it a rival, sending a warning?

A rival scientist, desperate to steal my research?

I sank into my desk chair, my fingers trembling as they hovered over Luca’s contact. He’d know what to do. He’d want to fix this.

But letting him in would mean surrendering to the chaos he brought. To the obsession I couldn’t trust.

Outside, the city glittered, beautiful and deceitful.

Someone out there wanted me to stop.

And I had no idea who. At this point, I decided two brains would be better than one. So, after giving a statement confirming my whereabouts at the time of the accident, I left the police station and drove over to knock brains with Mia in hopes that she would have a better idea than me.

Mia’s apartment smelled like vanilla candles and bad decisions.

I barged in without knocking—our unspoken rule since college—only to freeze mid-step. Mia was pressed against the kitchen counter, her dress hiked up around her thighs, tangled with a guy who looked like he’d stepped out of a cologne ad.

“Oh my God,” I hissed, slapping a hand over my eyes. “Mia, we need to talk. Now.”

She sighed, untangling herself. “Hate to cut this short, gorgeous,” she purred to the guy, patting his cheek, “but duty calls. Text me later?”

He muttered something in Italian that made her laugh, grabbed his shirt, and sauntered out, winking at me on his way.

“Really?” I said, dropping onto her velvet couch. “Another one?”

“What? He’s a bartender at that new place downtown. Very… skilled with his hands.” She tossed me a bottled water and flopped down beside me, her curls still messy. “Spill. You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Someone sabotaged the lab.”

All the humor drained from her face. “The lab given to you by the government? Right next to the National Institute of Pathology and Pharmacy? Arson against a government-owned building? Who the hell is so bold? ”

I handed her my phone, the security footage looping—the figure in black, the shredded research, the cold precision of it.

Mia’s lips thinned. “You need to tell Luca.”

“No.”

“Elena—”

“No. He’s already… intense. If I drag him into this, he’ll make it his personal mission to ‘fix’ everything. You know what that means.”

“Yeah, it means you won’t end up in a ditch!” She gripped my shoulders. "The police can’t handle this. Where the law falls short, the mafia takes over. That’s how this city works.”

“Since when are you a mafia sympathizer?”

“Since I started consulting for them,” she said flatly.

“I thought you were a lawyer.”

“I am. A mafia lawyer.” She stated, then caught the shock in my face before continuing, “Come on, it’s in the job title, consigliere Mia Acosta. I help them find barely legal ways to do borderline illegal things.”

I blinked. “You what?”

“Relax, it’s just logistics. Shipping routes, security systems—nothing bloody. But I know how they operate. Luca’s ruthless, but he’s not stupid. He’ll protect you.”

“He’ll own me.”

Mia arched a brow. “Isn’t that the point?”

I threw a pillow at her.

I know how he handles things ok? I’ve seen him in action. He is pretty scary.

Three weeks earlier…

Luca had taken me to dinner at a restaurant so exclusive it didn’t have a name. We’d just finished dessert when his phone buzzed. His expression darkened.

“Stay here,” he said, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Curiosity got the better of me. I followed him to the alley behind the building, where a man in a suit was begging on his knees, blood trickling from his nose.

“Please, Mr. Moretti—I didn’t know she was yours!”

Luca crouched in front of him, his voice icy. “You tried to drug her. What were you going to put in her drink if we didn’t catch you in the act?”

“It was a mistake—”

“Yes. It was.”

A snap of his fingers, and two bodyguards dragged the man away. Luca turned, saw me watching, and froze.

“You’re scared of me now,” he said, more statement than question.

“Should I be?”

He stepped closer, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “Only if you plan to betray me.” he sealed as gun shots roared from the place where hs men had taken the man.

I should’ve run. Instead, I kissed him.