Chapter Eighteen
Lorenzo
I look at her and my chest fills with something dangerously close to peace. Love. Joy. A softness I don’t deserve.
I knew they were coming.
I had Lev’s and Andres’ locations on my phone, we set it up for safety, for contingencies, for the kind of lives we live.
So, when I saw both of them heading toward Serena’s mansion without a word, I understood immediately.
They were planning something. And they would never show up here alone, not without a reason, not without her friends.
That meant Kylie. The sunshine of the group. The organizer. The heart.
A surprise birthday.
I was right.
What I didn’t anticipate was fucking her before I even managed to say happy birthday.
But for fuck’s sake, how was I supposed to resist her? She was breathtaking. She was wearing that lace like it was designed to ruin me. And the worst part? It wasn’t just that I couldn’t control my cock around her.
She wanted it too.
She wants me the way I want her. She wants to fuck me the way I want to fuck her. So why doesn’t she want to forgive me the way I need her to forgive me?
I’m so fucking desperate for her that I actually thought, hoped, that if I asked for her forgiveness in a vulnerable moment, if I gave her the kind of orgasm that wipes out thought and memory, she might say yes by mistake.
She didn’t.
She still said no.
Even when I fucked her into oblivion, she didn’t forgive me. And that terrifies me more than anything else ever has.
How the fuck am I supposed to earn her forgiveness?
I watch her now, standing in the middle of the room while everyone sings happy birthday. The dogs jump around her, tails wagging like they’re celebrating something sacred. Andres and Lev are grinning like idiots. The girls are laughing, smiling, wrapping her in warmth and noise and love.
She’s glowing.
And then I see Clara.
I didn’t expect her to come. And judging by the look on Lev’s face when he noticed her, I know it wasn’t his idea either. Still, I’m glad she’s here. Glad she found her way back to her friends. She didn’t look like she was in a good place the last time I saw her, not after her brother came for her.
She’s still too thin. Dark circles shadow her eyes. And I can’t quite tell if she’s completely sober or just holding herself together out of sheer will.
But right now, right now, she looks like she’s trying.
And the guilt hits me hard.
Because part of this is my fault.
When I saw her that day, when we killed Thomas, I should have sent her home immediately. I should have spared her the weight of that moment, the stain of it. But I was too fucking blinded by revenge to think beyond my own rage.
And look how well that played out.
“Happy birthday, Serena.”
Andres hands her the gift and pulls her into a brotherly hug. My fingers tighten instinctively around my whiskey glass. I know the boys have no interest in her, that they see her as a sister, but it doesn’t matter. I hate every man who breathes in her direction.
“I didn’t know the gender of the babies,” Andres says carefully, “so I bought something for both. If you don’t like them, you can throw them in the bin. I hope I didn’t overstep.”
He smiles at her. She smiles back.
My heart sinks at the sight of tiny newborn clothes.
“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes glassy.
I have the sudden, irrational urge to punch him. Even if those are happy tears, even if they’re innocent, her tears belong to me. Still, she looks down at the clothes, visibly moved. “These are amazing. Thank you so much.”
He nods once, satisfied.
My gift is better. It has to be. At least that’s what Kylie said, and since she’s a hopeless romantic, I trust her judgement.
“Now it’s my turn,” Lev announces, physically shoving Andres out of the way. “Move, grumpy. You’re stressing the babies out.”
He hands Serena a small box. Inside is a necklace, a mother holding two babies, a man standing behind them, protective. Possessive. Whole.
I can’t help it. I imagine us like that. Her. Me. Our children.
For one dangerous second, the thought of knocking her up again after she gives birth flashes through my mind. I shove it away immediately.
“This is for my nephews!” Lev adds proudly, holding up two tiny T-shirts. Lev is the best uncle ever.
Idiot.
Serena laughs, genuine and bright, and hugs him. “Thank you so much, Lev. This is amazing.”
I watch the hug longer than I should and wonder when the fuck it’s going to be my turn.
The next hour disappears into gift wrapping paper and soft laughter. Clara gives her a diary, to write down ideas for her book.
Her book.
I didn’t know she writes romance novels.
What else don’t I know about her?
If I had known, I would have bought her every fucking book in existence. Every special edition. Every cover, every author she loves. Anything her heart could ever want.
Sienna gives her a bracelet. Kylie gives her a framed picture of the four of them, smiling, arms around each other. A reminder. Proof.
So she never forgets she’s loved.
As if she ever could.
She will never forget she’s loved, because I’ll make sure she feels it every fucking day of her life.
I reach for the second gift I prepared. The velvet box burns in my hand.
But I don’t give it to her.
Not yet.
Instead, I slip my black Amex into Kylie’s pocket. She looks down, sees it, and smiles like she understands exactly what I’m doing.
Serena would never accept my money.
So I’ll do what I always do.
I’ll get creative.
I asked Kylie to take her and the girls to a VIP spa day at the Moretti Grand Hotel.
The card itself is practically useless. I own the place, but I also made sure Kylie understood that after the spa, they were going shopping.
Whatever they wanted. No limits. I planted the idea carefully, made it sound like concern rather than control.
Serena needs pregnancy massages. She’s carrying twins, and I can see the strain on her body more clearly with every passing day, her belly growing heavier, her legs still too thin, carrying more than they should.
I don’t know how much longer she can carry all of that weight without it taking something from her.
The gifts are done now. The girls gather around Bianca and the dogs, phones out, laughter filling the room.
Bianca made a separate cake just for the dogs, and now their faces are smeared with cream, tongues out, tails wagging uncontrollably.
The girls laugh and take selfies, chaos and warmth colliding in a way that feels almost unreal.
The dogs are ridiculous.
They’re trained to kill, to hunt, to obey without question, and the second a woman enters the room, especially Serena, they turn into idiots. Wagging tails. Posing. Sitting perfectly still for photos like they know exactly what they’re doing.
“It’s time for spa!” Kylie shouts.
“Oh, where are we going?” Serena asks, curiosity lighting her face.
“It’s a surprise,” Kylie says brightly, kissing her cheek.
She won’t tell her now. She knows Serena would refuse, there’s a ninety percent chance of that. But the Moretti Grand Hotel is the only place I trust them to be. Safe. Watched. Untouchable. No one will disturb them there without my permission.
“And then we’ll go shopping and buy whatever we want!” Kylie adds dramatically.
The girls laugh, already buzzing with excitement.
Clara stays quiet. Her gaze lingers on Serena, heavy with guilt. I’m surprised she hasn’t started crying yet, she’s been doing that a lot lately. I tried to mention it to Lev once. He shut me down immediately. Said it wasn’t my fucking business.
He’s right.
Still, I can’t help thinking about her brother. Maybe I should speak to him. I don’t want another damaged soul on my conscience. Not now. Not when I’m trying, actually trying, to be better.
I need to do better for Serena.
And apparently, that means taking care of her friends too, because when they’re unhappy, she feels it. And when she feels it, I feel it ten times worse.
I glance at the clock.
2:00 PM.
Fuck.
I have a meeting with Luciano and his associates. To discuss the terms of the engagement.
The engagement.
The word alone makes my stomach turn.
But I need to play his game. For now. Until I have a plan that ends with him losing everything. That’s why I invited Dante as well, because I already know how Luciano works.
I look at Andres and Lev, and it’s like they already know what I’m thinking. Andres checks the time, then gives me a subtle nod.
It’s time.
The meeting starts at 3 PM. We need to leave.
The girls are already getting ready to go, trying, and failing, to convince Bianca to come with them. She refuses, claiming the dogs need a babysitter because they have separation anxiety.
My trained dogs.
Separation anxiety.
For fuck’s sake.
“We need to go. Happy birthday again,” Andres says, smiling at Serena.
“Have fun,” Lev adds, casual.
“Thank you for coming,” she replies softly. “It really means a lot. And the gifts are amazing.”
Lev winks at her. Then her eyes drift to me.
She hesitates.
Lev and Andres step outside, waiting. The girls start moving toward the door.
“Let’s go, Serena!” Sienna calls, following Kylie and Clara.
Serena turns to leave, but I don’t let her.
I step in front of her and grab her by the waist, pulling her back against me.
“Aren’t you going to give me a goodbye kiss?” I murmur, drawing her into my arms. Her body melts into mine like it has a mind of its own.
“We can’t keep doing this,” she whispers, trying, weakly, to pull away.
“Keep doing what?” I ask, already knowing the answer, brushing soft kisses along her mouth.
Her breath ghosts over my skin, and I’m fucking intoxicated by her vanilla scent. “Pretending that we’re alright.”
I grip the nape of her neck and press my lips to hers, claiming her. The kiss is slow, inviting, dangerous. Our tongues meet, explore, remember.
“Let’s pretend until we don’t have to pretend anymore,” I murmur, deepening the kiss.