Chapter 20
20
Lorenzo
The first moment I have a free second, I head to the boathouse to see if she’s there.
It still smells like her.
Roses and something else I can’t name.
The blanket we lay on is folded neatly in the corner. Like it never happened.
I hate it.
Because it did, and I never want to forget that it did. I need to see her. Now. I move faster, cutting through the trees toward the estate.
Branches slap against my arms, but I don’t care. I’d happily take a beating if it brings me to her.
Man, I sound like a pussy.
I’m definitely not the kid who came here only a month ago. If my friends saw me now, they’d ask what the fuck happened to me?
Only a month ago, I stabbed someone and was sent away. Now…
Yeah. Fuck. I changed a lot. All because of her.
She makes me want to be a better man.
The halls are quiet as I head to her room. I spot my mother in the staff corridor and jog toward her.
“Have you seen Victoria?” I step into her space before she can pretend she didn’t hear me. After the scolding last night, I’m sure she would go the opposite direction if she thought she could keep me from Victoria.
She looks up from a basket of folded towels, her face smoothed into something neutral. Too neutral. She doesn’t answer.
But she knows something… Her eyes flick to the left before she drops her gaze again.
“I need to talk to her,” I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “It’s important p>
She presses her lips together, tightening them into a thin, resigned line.
“What the fuck, Mom. Speak p>
Her eyes go wide at the tone in my voice. “Don’t talk to me that way p>
My stomach twists. Something is wrong. And I can’t wait for tell me what. So I don’t. I take the service stairs two at a time, my heart pounding like a warning bell. I don’t care if I’m caught. I don’t care if I’m fired. I just have to get to her.
Her hallway is deserted, but the door is slightly open.
“Victoria?” My voice cracks. I push the door. Nobody answers.
I step inside, and my whole world rips open. Her vanity is cleared. Jewelry gone. Hell, her closet is even empty. The only thing left behind is the pile of pebbles on the dresser.
“No.” My voice comes out raw. “Where p>
“She’s gone p>
I spin around so fast I almost lose my balance.
Her father stands in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing a smile so smug it makes me want to put my fist through his perfect mahogany paneling.
“What?” I breathe.
“She left this morning,” he says, stepping into the room like he owns the entire universe and is bored with the view.
“Left?” The word hits like a punch.
He nods and laughs under his breath. “Didn’t she tell you?” He tilts his head. “Of course she didn’t. Why would she? You’re nothing. No one important. Just the help p>
My fists clench so tight my nails dig into my palms. “She wouldn’t p>
“Oh, but she did.” He smirks. “College, then after that… marriage to someone worthy. Actually, you must have seen him around. Grant Jameson. She will be marrying him once she gets her degree… You didn’t really think a girl like her would give up her future for someone like you p>
“Shut up p>
“She used you,” he continues. “That’s what girls like her do. Get bored. Play pretend. Then move on. You were a summer game. Nothing more p>
I storm past him before I do something stupid like murder him.
“I’d worry more about your job than your broken heart,” he calls after me.
I shove through the staff doors, ignoring the sting in my chest, and find my mom in the kitchen now.
“Where is she?” I demand, my voice cracking.
She doesn’t look up. “She’s gone, Lorenzo p>
“You knew.” The betrayal tastes bitter in my mouth.
“I saw her leave,” she continues to chop the vegetable in front of her. “But maybe it’s for the best p>
“The best?” I echo, stepping closer. “The best for who p>
She finally meets my eyes. “You’re from two different worlds,” she whispers. “You always have been. And we need this job. We have nowhere else to go p>
I step back as if she slapped me. “You don’t believe that,” I whisper.
“I do,” she says softly. “And one day, so will you p>
Before I can respond, I hear soft footsteps echo behind me.
I turn.
Victoria’s mother stands in the doorway.
Her expression is… unreadable. Not cruel. Not kind. Just composed in that expensive way, only money teaches.
“I thought you might want this,” she says, holding out an envelope. My pulse stops.
My throat closes.
I wipe my palms on my jeans and take the envelope from her fingers. She gives me a small, practiced smile.
“Take care of yourself, Lorenzo.” She turns and walks away, heels clicking on the wood floors.
My hands shake as I break the seal.
Then the words.
Lorenzo, I’m leaving. I should’ve said goodbye in person, but that would’ve made this harder.
My stomach drops.
This summer was exactly what it needed to be—an escape. A moment out of time. Something sweet before life becomes real again. But that’s all it can ever be. A summer. A moment. Not a life.
My vision blurs.
I have my world, and you have yours. Please don’t come after me. Please don’t wait for me. We were never meant to last.
The last line cuts cleanest.
Thank you for the memories.
—V
It doesn’t say she loved me. It doesn’t say she’ll miss me. It doesn’t say one thing that could anchor me.
It’s tidy.
And most importantly…
Final.
This can’t really be from her? Can it?
“No. This is bullshit. Victoria would never p>
“She did, Enzo p>
It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the gut.
“I’m sorry,” my mother says, but I hardly hear her. Because all at once, there’s a knock on the front door of the estate.
A heavy one.
We both freeze.
It isn’t polite or rhythmic. It’s deliberate. The kind of knock that means business. The violent kind.
My mother drops the knife, the clang echoing through the kitchen.
She hurries down the hall to peer out the nearest window. The rest of the staff follow.
Hell, I follow.
From the window, I see the SUV. Black. Expensive. Tinted windows.
Three men get out.
One stands by the car. One heads toward the front door. The third is older. He looks mean with cold eyes.
He looks like me.
My mother does something I never expected and walks to the door and opens it. Her face drains of color.
The older man smiles faintly at her. “It’s time, Angela p>
Her throat works. Her hands tremble. “I knew it would be you p>
I step out from behind her. “What the hell is going on p>
My mom turns slowly, like she’s about to confess a crime.
“Lorenzo…” Her voice shakes. “This is your uncle p>
I blink. “What p>
The man steps forward, hands clasped behind his back. “Your father’s brother p>
The world tilts. My ears ring.
My mother turns to me, eyes wet—not with soft tears but terrified ones.
“Your father…” she breathes, “he was part of a powerful family. After he died, I ran. And then ran some more. I didn’t want that life for you p>
“What life p>
“A criminal one,” she whispers. “Your father was in deep. But then, when he was gone, I knew they’d come for you eventually. I ran, and we’ve been running ever since p>
My blood goes ice cold.
“You lied to me p>
“I protected you p>
“No,” I choke out. “You hid me. You made me feel like nothing, when I was something all along p>
The back door of the SUV opens.
A young man around my age steps out. Tall. Sharp. Familiar.
The moment I see him, something inside me cracks open. A memory crashes in—a backyard, dirt bikes, a boy shouting, Come on, Lorenzo!
“You’re him,” I breathe.
He grins. “You remember p>
He strides toward me and pulls me into a hug.
“Matteo,” he says. “Your cousin. Brother, really. We’ve been searching for you for years p>
I stagger back, staring.
I turn to my mother, betrayal scorching under my skin.
“You said I didn’t have any family,” I whisper.
Her face crumples. “I was trying to protect you p>
“All this time p>
“I thought I could keep you safe p>
My uncle steps forward. “Your boss made it easy. He ran a background check. DNA. Everything. Once he realized you were going to be a problem, he called us p>
A sick twist hits my gut.
Of course he did.
My uncle extends his hand. “It’s time you came with us, Lorenzo. Where you belong p>
My chest twists.
I look at my mother. She shakes her head, desperate. “Please. Don’t go. We can run again. We’ll figure it out p>
Run again? Hide again? Pretend again?
No.
I look at Matteo. He watches me with real hope.
“There’s nothing left for me here,” I say quietly.
“Lorenzo, please p>
But I’m already moving.
Toward the car. Toward the truth. Toward an unknown future.
I don’t look back.
Because if I do, I might not be able to leave.