Chapter 34
34
Lorenzo
An hour has passed since I placed her in her new room and left her.
It’s too quiet.
Not the usual silence that happens in the dead of night, when my men do their rounds.
No. This is different.
It’s because of her.
I stand outside her bedroom door with a glass of whiskey in one hand and my phone in the other, staring at the carved wood, waiting for an invitation.
It will never happen. Not that I would want her. She’s not here for that. She’s here for my amusement, for her to be as miserable as I’ve been.
It also helps that I got to fuck over her parents. Those bastards treated my mother and me like shit.
Ever since she died, I’ve wanted revenge. While they might not have killed her, I still blamed them. This plan killed two birds with one stone.
I continue to watch and listen for anything coming from her room.
My wife.
The word tastes good and wrong and addictive.
I take a slow drink, the burn settling low in my chest, when my phone buzzes.
Matteo.
Perfect.
The last person I want to speak to right now. I’m not sure what my plan is, but keeping a bride locked up in my house won’t go over well with him, so for now, I have no plan.
I slide my thumb across the screen. “If you’re calling to discuss your feelings.” I lean against the wall with a lazy slouch, “please lose my number p>
“Where the hell are you?” Matteo asks, the sound of engine noise behind him. “I’ve been at the estate waiting for you for thirty minutes p>
“Well…” I examine my reflection in the whiskey glass. “That sounds like a you problem p>
“You sound drunk, which I obviously don’t care about, but you said you’d meet me. My father wants you here now. He’s losing his mind p>
“Uncle losing his mind is not breaking news.” I laugh. “That’s a typical Tuesday p>
“Lorenzo. Just come p>
I sigh dramatically, pushing off the wall. “Fine. I’m out running an errand. I’ll be there in twenty p>
“What errand?” he asks.
I smirk. “The kind you don’t get to ask about,” I say in a mocking tone, so he thinks I’m joking. Hopefully, he doesn’t call my bluff.
Matteo sighs. “Just get here p>
“I’m touched by your concern,” I respond before hanging up.
I finish my whiskey and glance at her door once more—half expecting her to wake up, half hoping she doesn’t.
I should feel powerful. Victorious. She’s in my bed, wearing my ring, tethered to my world whether she wants it or not.
Instead, something sharp sits in the center of my ribs.
I shove it down and walk to the landing where two of my hired private guards stand watch. They straighten the second they see me, hands clasped behind their backs.
“She stays put,” I adjust my cuffs as if that’s the most natural command in the world. “She doesn’t step outside this hall. If she does, you call me. If someone comes to the property, you call me. If she sneezes suspiciously, you call me p>
One nods. “Yes, sir. Understood p>
“Good.” I head toward the stairs. “Because she’s the one thing in this house more dangerous than me p>
Their eyes widen, but neither asks for clarification.
Smart men.
I head outside and approach my car, sliding into the driver’s seat. Then I’m peeling down the long driveway.
My estate sits in the middle of nowhere. It’s private and fortified like a fortress.
I bought it the second I turned twenty-one. My salary wasn’t enough to afford this beast of a house.
Neither was saving every penny.
Nope, it was the inheritance I received from my father’s passing, with interest, that sealed the deal. Because, as it so happened, when I turned twenty-one, my uncle told me about the money he had put aside for me, my father’s portion of the family business.
I drive fast, one hand on the wheel, jaw tight. The road lines blur beneath my headlights. My brain is a fucking mess.
I shouldn’t have married her because every time I look at her, the eighteen-year-old version of me—the boy I killed to survive—tries to claw his way out of the grave.
And I don’t have space for him.
Not anymore.
It’s not long before the Amante estate comes into view.
Iron gates open by the time I reach them, and guards nod me through.
I pull into the courtyard, step out of the car, and straighten my jacket before striding toward the entrance.
Inside, Matteo waits beside the staircase, arms crossed. His dark hair is a mess from running his hands through it. “You certainly took your time p>
I make a show of looking at my watch. “It took me less than an hour to get here p>
“Where have you been the past few days p>
“I was busy,” I reply.
“With what p>
“Not killing someone,” I say, shrugging. “Barely managed p>
“Great,” Matteo sighs, rubbing his temples. “Just what the family needs. A Lorenzo mid-spiral moment p>
“You love my spirals.” I grin, but it’s empty.
He snorts. “Let’s get this over with p>
We walk down the hall to my uncle’s office. Two guards open the doors the moment they see us.
My uncle stands behind his desk. He’s a large and formidable man, despite being in his fifties with graying hair and eyes like polished obsidian. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t look relieved. He looks impatient.
“Lorenzo.” He extends a hand. “Good. You’re here p>
I shake it, my expression neutral. “I was told it was urgent p>
“It is.” He gestures toward a map laid out across the table. “Someone is making a move against us p>
“Yes, Father.” Matteo steps forward. “We already confirmed the skimming p>
“This is more than skimming.” My uncle interrupts, slamming his palm on the map. “One of our warehouses was hit. Cash went missing. Product, too p>
“What kind of product?” I ask even though I’m pretty sure I already know.
“The kind we don’t discuss outside these walls,” he snaps.
Rafe stands in the corner with his arms crossed and a hard face. He meets my eyes with a slight nod.
My uncle points at the map again. “This is coordinated. Someone wants a piece of our territory. Someone young. Reckless. Hungry p>
“So we kill them.” I shrug.
My uncle’s gaze sharpens. “That’s what I need you for p>
Silence settles.
Matteo turns toward me, brows lifting. “He wants you to run point p>
“I want you and Rafe,” my uncle clarifies, stepping around the desk. His hand lands on my shoulder, heavy and with purpose. “You have an instinct for threats. You see war coming before the rest of us p>
He squeezes once.
“Your father would be proud p>
It lands like a punch.
My throat tightens for half a second before I crush the feeling beneath my heel. My father wouldn’t be proud. I don’t remember him, but I know what he stood for, and my father would kill me if he knew what I did tonight.
Because his son just married a woman he abducted through paperwork. And if my uncle finds out? He’ll kill me himself.
Matteo bumps my arm lightly with his elbow. “You good p>
“Peachy.” I step back so my uncle’s hand falls. “We’ll handle it p>
“I know you will,” my uncle says, returning to his chair. “Find out who’s coming for us, Lorenzo. And end them p>
A simple order.
A deadly one.
And exactly what I need right now.
I nod once, the predator in me waking. “As you wish p>
My uncle studies me carefully, almost too carefully. “You’ve been… distracted lately, nephew p>
I school my expression into bored annoyance. “I’ve been busy p>
“With what p>
I smile. “Errands p>
He doesn’t push. Matteo doesn’t question.
Good.
The fewer people who know where I go at night, the fewer who know who shares my last name now, which means there is a chance this secret will remain safe.
“I’ll give you updates,” I tell my uncle, turning toward the exit.
Matteo taps my shoulder as I’m leaving. “Hey, listen, whatever it is, you can tell me p>
“I’m fine p>
He nods once. “Don’t disappear again. My father gets twitchy p>
“You’re the emotional support son,” I remind him, smirking. “Not me p>
“Yeah, well, I can only do so much. Your brooding brings balance p>
“Glad to be of service p>
He stops me just before I reach the door. “Lorenzo p>
I turn.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks quietly, eyes searching my face with that too-perceptive Amante intuition.
For a second, I almost answer. I almost tell him the truth: that I forced Victoria to marry me. That she’s technically a prisoner.
My prisoner.
Instead, I grin. “I’m always okay p>
Matteo might not believe me, but he respects me enough not to ask.
I walk out before he can press.
Outside, the night feels heavier. The weight of the lie sits between my shoulders like an invisible blade. I slide into my car and check my phone automatically.
A camera feed shows Victoria still asleep. Silk sheets are tangled around her body. She tosses and turns, a hand reaching out frantically. It’s like she’s fighting demons in her dreams.
Probably me.
Good.
She should fear me. She should hate me, and hopefully, that will keep her exactly where I put her.
Because if she runs, if she leaves me again—
This time, I won’t survive it.
I start the car, the engine rumbling like a threat, and pull out of the estate.
War is coming. I can feel it.
And I’ll burn down all of Boston before I let anyone take another thing from me.
Especially her.
Even if she never wanted to be mine.