Chapter 10 Lorenzo
I almost kissed Sophia.
My chest still tingles where she touched me. My hand feels strange, the feel of her soft skin lingering. My thumb still craves to trace every inch of her body. And my lips are cold, missing the warmth of the kiss that never happened.
You’re such an idiot. Why didn’t you kiss her?
Damian’s comment from earlier today remains in the back of my head. She’s been hurt, and I don’t want to add another layer to that. Even though my body thrums with the need to say fuck it all and kiss her, consequences be damned.
But I can’t. I won’t. The perception people have of me couldn’t be farther from the truth, and if I allow myself to do something like that, it would just prove them right.
“We couldn’t have gone to your restaurant instead?”
I shake my head. “I’m always there, and I was craving some sushi.”
“Yeah, right.” She snorts a laugh. “Lorenzo, what are you playing at? I thought this was a business meeting. ”
Funny. I thought it was, too, until we shared that moment outside of her apartment.
“This is a business meeting,” I confirm before taking a bite of nigiri. “So”—I wave my hand at her—“go ahead.”
She drops her chopsticks on top of her napkin and leans back, crossing her legs. “I want to write about Lorenzo Mancini the person, not the billionaire. I honestly couldn’t care less about how you made your billions.”
Straight to the point. I like it. Sophia has this no-bullshit personality that I find, honestly, hot.
“But?” I prompt.
She frowns. “How do you know there’s a but?”
“You forget I’m a businessman. I know how to read people.”
Though reading Sophia hasn’t been an easy task. She conceals herself well, for the most part. But the tense dynamic between her and her boss was fairly obvious, so I’m certain whatever he advised, she wants to do the exact opposite.
She gives an exasperated roll of her eyes at my comment. “Max wasn’t too convinced, he wants me to write multiple articles that are drastically different.”
“Let me guess, one of them is a gossip column?” I raise an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look.
She thins her lips and nods.
“Makes sense. Vogue Elite is a magazine, after all,” I continue with a nonchalant shrug. “What matters is what you want to do.”
The media thrives on gossip, chaos, and other people’s misery. It’s sickening. And I don’t care for it. The thought of me doing this honestly makes my skin crawl, but then I look at Sophia and feel somewhat at ease. For some strange reason, I trust her. Maybe it’s the fact I’ve read all of her work, or that I can tell she has integrity. I honestly don’t understand why she works for a place like Vogue Elite . She’s meant for so much more.
“It doesn’t matter what I want to do,” she replies with a flat tone.
I raise an eyebrow, setting my chopsticks aside and dropping my elbows on the table. “Why not?”
She drops her elbows on the table, too, resting her face on the palm of her hand. “Because it doesn’t.”
“I think it does matter, and I will do whatever you think is best.” I lean back on my chair. “With that being said, I’m a simple man. What you see is what you get.”
Her eyes gleam with something I can’t quite place. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
Shocker. Who didn’t see that coming?
I rest my hand on the table and start drumming my index finger against it. “You’re not going to find what you’re looking for.”
She reaches for her glass of wine and takes a sip. My eyes follow the movement and focus on her soft, plush perfect lips. The same lips I’m still craving. And fuck, they’re so pretty, all I want to do is get lost in them.
Get your head out of the gutter, man.
She shrugs lazily. “That’s for me to find out.”
What are you doing? This is risky. Stupid. You should walk away right now.
I couldn’t even if I tried. Is this the best idea I’ve had? Probably not. I’ve kept my life private for a lot of reasons. Reasons I refuse to give a second thought. I don’t think the world is interested in seeing the real me, and I’m not entirely too excited to share it either. This is a dangerous game, one a normal person would shy away from. But I think we’ve already established there’s something stupidly wrong with me.
“Okay,” I find myself saying.
Her eyes lock on mine in surprise, and then she nods. “Good.”
“When do we start?” I ask.
“I’ll let you know.”
A smirk tugs the corners of my lips. “This will be an interesting dynamic.”
“Tell me about it.”
This will be far from ordinary. Yet it doesn’t stop my body from buzzing with excitement.
Your play, Blue.
After I dropped her off, I texted Matteo to meet me at Vortex. He’s loyal to a fault, so he didn’t even bat an eye and was already there when I walked through the doors. Fridays tend to be very busy, especially on the fourth floor where the casino is located. The main floor, however, tends to be slower since everyone is upstairs gambling their money away.
The entrance of Vortex has a simple, classic style. Leather seats and tables are scattered throughout the room, offering a sense of comfort and exclusivity. In one corner, a bar gleams with an array of top-shelf alcohol, because nothing screams entitlement more than only keeping the best of the best. Some tables feature chess sets, providing an intellectual pastime for guests, while other small, round tables are perfect for intimate conversations. The décor exudes an old, classical charm with deep-brown hues and grand chandeliers casting a warm glow. It’s not the typical style I would go for, but that’s the beauty of this place. The style has remained the same since it was founded back in the late 1800s.
Matteo sits at the back of the room, where the plush leather seats and chess table are, our usual spot for when we prefer a game or two over conversation. He’s currently typing away on his phone with a furrowed brow, deep in concentration. The man is truly a workaholic. Carter’s Corporation , his cyber security company, is practically his baby. While people often judge him, I don’t. He had to fight for his opportunities every second of every day and made a lot of sacrifices—some I know he regrets—to be here.
“Everything okay?” I ask, sitting in my usual seat.
He sighs, locking his phone and throwing it on the table next to him. “Yeah. I had to fire one of my analysts. He was working with the competition, completely breaking his NCA. You know, just my typical Friday.”
I gape at him. “That was bold.”
“Tell me about it.”
He typically has the sunniest personality, a golden retriever by nature. But when it comes to his job, he’s as ruthless as they come. You don’t fuck with Matteo Carter if you cherish your life. He’s been my best friend for years and even I can accept the guy can be terrifying sometimes.
“So, why’d you call me here?” he asks.
I straighten in my chair, looking down at the set of chess that’s in front of me. I push forward the pawn from the left corner two steps. “Felt like playing chess.”
He smirks knowingly, moving the pawn that’s in front of his king. “Okay, let’s play then. ”
I narrow my eyes as I move my pawn to match his. He then quickly moves his queen diagonally to the edge of the board. I frown, trying to see what his play is, and opt to move my pawn to challenge his queen.
With a smug grin, he moves his queen straight ahead to capture my pawn. “Checkmate.”
I stare at the board. Once the puzzle clicks, I look back at him in disbelief. “I hate playing this game with you.”
He laughs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “Chess isn’t always kind,” he remarks casually. “Can we talk about the real reason we’re here now?”
Letting out a huge sigh, I lean back in the chair, the comforting embrace of the leather grounding me.
Matteo is almost like a brother to me. I confide in him for everything. He likes to fuck with me sometimes, but he doesn’t judge. But I’m in so far over my head, I know he’s going to call me out on my shit.
I chew the inside of my cheek. “I told Vogue Elite I would do the article they’ve been wanting to do for years now.”
He offers a bemused smile. “ Vogue Elite , as in where Sophia Evans works?”
My jaw ticks, and I simply nod.
“And let me guess, she’s the one writing it?” he asks.
I nod again.
He lifts one eyebrow, tilting his head. “Walk me through what you were thinking when you said yes to this.”
Where to even begin? I want to be near her and get to know her. I love to banter with her, because it’s entertaining, and she also doesn’t back down, making it even more fun. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head, even though she has made clear where we stand. And let’s not even begin to talk about what happened today. That’s a can of worms I refuse to open at this moment .
“She’s a really good writer.” Technically, not a lie. “I think if anyone could make me feel comfortable with something I typically hate doing, it would be her.” Also, not a lie.
He nods absently, and I can practically see the wheels turning inside his head. “Let me get this straight,” he begins. “You never do interviews, because, and I quote, fuck the media and everything they have to say .” He punctuates his words with air quotes. “And in all the years I’ve known you, not once have you given the media what they wanted, but now you’re totally on board because she’s a great writer?” He narrows his eyes, rubbing his jawline.
Pursing my lips, I tilt my head, contemplating how to respond, because I have the feeling I’m walking into a trap. “Yes.”
He completely stills, his cold, blue eyes settling on me. “Well, I’d be damned. I never thought I’d see the day.”
I scowl at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Lorenzo Mancini, the infamous playboy, wants to score again with the one woman who doesn’t even give him the time of day.”
My eyes roll at the ridiculous accusation. Listen, just because I enjoy sleeping with women doesn’t mean I’m a playboy. I don’t play women. I give them exactly what they’re looking for—a good time. They know what they are getting into, because I always make my intentions clear. And when women are falling into bed with me, it’s not because they are planning to marry me. They like to use me, and I simply let them. There’s a difference.
“Trust me”—I snort a laugh—“I don’t.”
Mmm, then why did you want to kiss her so badly tonight?
A momentary lapse, of course. I’m human. Shit happens. I got clouded by… I don’t know, her looks. Her scent. Her beautiful smile. Her bright-blue eyes. Her plush, pink lips .
Stop.
Fuck.
“Oh, please, Enzo. Spare me the lies.” Matteo rolls his eyes. “You just want what you can’t have, and honestly, I enjoy watching you squirm.”
“You’re having entirely too much fun with my life lately.”
“What can I say? I enjoy the dramatics.”
I glare at him. “You’re a dick.”
He laughs. “I’m not here to rain on your parade. I know I fuck with you a lot, but I mean, you’re an adult. You know what you’re doing.”
“But?” I prompt—like I said, I always know when there’s a but.
He fixes me with a piercing stare, all traces of mirth disappearing. “Be careful. This is Red’s best friend we are talking about here. She’ll be in our lives forever. Don’t go making it awkward for the sake of proving a point.”
I’m not trying to prove a point. Sophia is just…very intriguing.
And let’s not forget about the fact that there must be a reason why she walked back into my life when I thought I’d never see her again.
Getting close to her is a dangerous game, because every time I’m near her it’s like everything I know and the way I think goes out the window. I’ve never felt like this. I don’t understand what this feeling even is.
But I’m willing to play, even when I don’t know what the reward will be.