Chapter 2 — Tense Beginnings

Luke

Luke Bennett leaned against the cold stone wall of the conference room, arms crossed, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm against his elbow. The faint mustiness of the place mingled with his unease, a gnawing sensation that he couldn’t quite shake. He shifted his weight, his eyes darting to the heavy wooden door that separated him from the unknown. His new partner, Emma Carter, was behind that door—or maybe just around some corner, ready to make her entrance. The name rang a bell from Moretti’s briefing: academic prodigy, meticulous to a fault, and so tightly wound she probably scheduled time to relax. Perfect. Just the kind of partner he always dreamed of.

Luke suppressed a sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled blond hair. This was his shot—his chance to claw his way back to respectability after years of being the cautionary tale whispered about at gallery openings and academic circles. He tried not to think about the stakes, but the thought still clawed its way into his chest. If this fell apart, so would he.

The door creaked open, and Moretti strode in, the sharp click of his polished shoes breaking the silence and pulling Luke’s posture into something resembling attention. Behind Moretti came a woman: late twenties, dark-brown hair pulled into a no-nonsense braid, and sharp hazel eyes that locked onto him with the precision of a hawk sizing up prey. She moved with a purpose that radiated professionalism, the strap of her satchel digging into her jacket as though she’d carried it through a war zone. Luke’s first impression was undeniable and unsurprising—Emma Carter was every bit the academic overachiever he’d expected.

“Miss Carter,” Moretti announced briskly, his tone clipped and authoritative. “This is Luke Bennett. He’ll be your partner for this assignment.”

Emma’s gaze flickered ever so slightly, a hint of calculation beneath her otherwise professional exterior. She stepped forward, extending a hand. “Mr. Bennett,” she said evenly, her voice calm, controlled.

Luke met her handshake with a smirk that curled just enough to needle. “Emma Carter. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Her grip was firm, businesslike to the point of being intimidating. The barest flicker of irritation crossed her eyes before she replied, “Likewise,” her tone sharp enough to cut stone.

“Excellent,” Moretti interjected, slicing through the tension before it could build. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let me be clear: This mission is of utmost importance. Personal differences are irrelevant. You will work together, and you will succeed. Understood?”

Emma’s nod was immediate, ironclad in its professionalism. Luke offered a lazy shrug, which earned him a pointed glare from Moretti. “Understood,” he echoed finally, though his irreverent tone drew a sigh of exasperation from their superior.

Moretti’s gaze lingered between them as though gauging the odds of their cooperation. “Your first task is to examine the restricted archives. They contain records that may point us toward the location of La Statua Aurelia. I suggest you begin immediately.”

Emma straightened, her sharp focus snapping to Moretti. “Of course, Dr. Moretti. We’ll report back with our findings as soon as possible.”

Luke’s lips curved into a grin. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice laced with mock sincerity. “I’ll make sure Professor Perfect here doesn’t drown in the stacks.”

Emma’s jaw tightened, but she refused to rise to the bait. “I’m sure your... unconventional methods will be invaluable,” she countered, her saccharine tone a razor’s edge.

“Good,” Moretti snapped, cutting off the brewing animosity. “I expect results by tomorrow.” With that, he turned and exited, his sharp footsteps fading into the distance and leaving behind a silence thick with unspoken tension.

Luke tilted his head, watching Emma adjust the strap of her satchel, her posture as rigid as the museum’s stone walls. “You know,” he began, his tone casual, “if you glare at me like that all day, I might start to think you don’t like me.”

Her eyes flicked to him, assessing and cold. “I don’t know you well enough to dislike you,” she said, her voice calm but clipped. “Yet.”

Luke chuckled softly, though something about the remark hit a little too close to home. “Well, aren’t you full of charm?”

“I don’t have time for charm, Bennett,” she snapped, her composure cracking just slightly. “This assignment is serious, and I won’t let your... reputation jeopardize it.”

There it was—the elephant in the room. Luke’s smirk faltered for the briefest moment, though he recovered quickly, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “My reputation?” he echoed, his voice light but his eyes narrowing. “Careful, Carter. You wouldn’t want to judge a book by its cover.”

“Your cover is all anyone ever talks about,” she shot back, her hazel eyes blazing. “I’ve worked too hard to get here to let you ruin this for me.”

Her words hit like a slap, and for a moment, Luke considered firing back, letting the tension boil over. But there was something raw in her voice, something unguarded that reminded him of a version of himself he’d rather forget. He exhaled, stepping back and raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Carter. I’m not here to ruin anything. Believe it or not, I want this to succeed as much as you do.”

Emma’s gaze lingered on him, skeptical and wary. When she didn’t respond, he added, softer this time, “I mean it.”

Her expression smoothed into neutrality, though a flicker of doubt remained in her eyes. “Good,” she said eventually. “Then let’s get started.”

They left the conference room in silence, their footsteps reverberating down the museum’s labyrinthine corridors. The air grew cooler as they descended deeper into its heart, the grandeur of the sandstone walls giving way to dim passages lined with carved reliefs and ornate tapestries. Luke trailed behind Emma, noting how she moved with precision, her steps purposeful. It was almost impressive—annoyingly so.

“Have you worked in archives before?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence without looking back at him.

“Plenty,” he replied, his tone light. “Not that you’d guess, right?”

Her pace didn’t falter, but he caught the faintest twitch of her lips, like she was trying not to smile. “I’ll reserve judgment until I see you in action.”

Luke chuckled softly, the tension between them easing just a fraction. “Fair enough.”

Soon, they arrived at the entrance to the restricted archives, where an older man with a weathered face and wary eyes stood guard. His name tag read “Marco,” and he looked like the kind of person who’d seen too much and trusted too little. Emma handed over their credentials with practiced efficiency, her tone polite but firm as she explained their purpose.

Marco’s gaze lingered on them for a moment too long before he stepped aside to unlock the heavy door. “Be careful in there,” he muttered, his voice low and grave. “You’re not the first to come looking for answers about that statue.”

Emma paused, her hand on the strap of her satchel. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice steady.

Marco’s eyes darted between them. “Just that it’s a dangerous path you’re on. People have disappeared chasing after that thing. La Statua Aurelia isn’t just history—it’s power. And the kind of people who want power...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Just watch your backs.”

Luke felt a prickle of unease but masked it with a grin. “Thanks for the tip, mate. We’ll keep that in mind.”

Marco didn’t look convinced, but he stepped aside, allowing them to enter. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, sealing them inside the archives. Luke let out a low whistle as he took in the room. Rows of ancient shelves stretched into the dimly lit distance, their spines lined with leather-bound tomes and battered scroll cases. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and stone, a quiet hum of dehumidifiers filling the space.

“Let’s split up,” Emma said briskly, unbuckling her satchel and pulling out a notebook. “You take that side; I’ll take this one.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You trust me to work unsupervised? I’m touched.”

“I trust you to stay out of my way,” she replied without missing a beat.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned toward the nearest shelf. “Whatever you say, Professor.”

As he began sifting through the remnants of the past, Luke felt an odd sense of calm settle over him. For all his bravado, he did love this work—the thrill of discovery, the puzzle pieces waiting to be fitted together. Maybe Emma wasn’t the only one with something to prove.

Still, Marco’s warning lingered in the back of his mind. Dangerous paths. Dangerous people. He’d walked those paths before and paid the price. He just hoped Emma Carter was ready to do the same.