Chapter Seven
Lorenzo
Sweat beads on my forehead as I sprint down the hallway toward Matteo’s office.
When I'd called security from the car, they confirmed Fiona had badged in.
I had them pull up the camera feeds—and that's when I saw Zack escorting her to the elevator.
To the top floor. That information was enough to send chills running down my spine.
I’ll kill him.
I will fucking tear him to pieces if he hurts one strand of her hair.
I’m halfway there when suddenly, a deafening crack rips through the air, a sound that freezes me in my tracks. A gunshot. Time seems to warp, stretching and distorting as the sound reverberates in my ears.
Adrenaline floods in waves, pushing me to sprint the rest of the way to Matteo's office. I barely notice the broken door as I rush in, chest heaving and sweat slicking my hair as I stop to take in the scene. My father is holding a gun and a man is bleeding on the floor.
Fiona.
My eyes seek her out like a hound sniffing blood, and I don’t breathe until I spot her, standing by Matteo’s desk.
I feel my knees go weak when I realize that she’s alive, but she’s terrified by the look of things.
And then I see the gun lying a few feet from the bleeding man.
And I realize one thing. He came in here to kill her.
I see red. Maybe it should be enough that the man is injured already and incapable of hurting Fiona anymore, but the need to punish—to avenge my woman—is strong. I pounce on Zack, teeth bared and nostrils flaring as I tear into him, punching him like a man possessed by some kind of vengeful demon.
Someone yells, and another voice joins in, but I can't push past the red haze in my head to think of anything but killing this man.
I'll stop when he stops fucking breathing.
Hands grapple to pull me off him, but I simply shrug them off, my fist pounding into the man who thought himself bold enough to threaten Fiona. He doesn't deserve to live.
“Stop, goddamnit! You’re going to kill him!” Antonio’s voice barely registers as two sets of arms grab me. “If you want to kill him, do it somewhere it’s not going to be a hassle to clean up, you fucker.”
Antonio and another set of arms manage to pull me off Zack, but not before I land a final kick to his face that sends his eyes rolling back as he loses consciousness. I shrug off the hands holding me as I turn to Fiona, worry blackening my face as I rush to her side.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice ragged, even to my own ears. “Fuck, baby. I'm sorry. So fucking sorry I didn’t get to you sooner.”
“I’m fine,” Fiona says, her face a mask as she takes a step away from me. She moves back when I reach out to touch her, the physical distance she’s creating making my chest ache.
“Fiona—”
“It’s my fault for coming to confront him here alone when my job was to find him and then report to you,” she says, her voice so matter-of-fact—yet another distance she's creating between us.
An emotional one this time. “I apologize for the trouble, and saving my life was all the payment I need for the work I've done…”
“Fiona.”
“My work is done here, so let’s not see each other again, Lorenzo.”
I reach out to take her hand, to stop her from leaving and explain, but she evades my touch, storming out of the door and leaving me with a burning feeling in my chest. “Fuck!” I curse, kicking a chair and sending it sliding across the room.
I run a hand through my hair, misery and frustration pouring out of me in waves.
A hand on my shoulder pulls me back, and when I turn around, it’s to find my father watching me with something akin to pity. “Are you two…involved?”
I sigh and walk to the other chair in the room and drop down on it. “Yes, and she found out about Natalie.”
“Wait, you and Fiona O'Shea?” a voice calls out, and for the first time, I notice Nico. He must've been the other pair of hands that pulled me off Zack. “When the fuck did that happen? And who the hell is Natalie?”
My father's sign is heavy. “I’m sorry, son,” he says, apology in his tone. “I had no idea you were already involved, or I would never have pressured you into going to lunch with Natalie.”
“Well, this is messed up,” Antonio muses. “But how about we put your relationship drama on the back burner for now and deal with this mess. I called Matteo, and he’s catching the next flight back. And Luca’s on his way.”
We all look at the man on the floor who is slowly coming to, and I feel rage build up in me again.
Zack has worked under Matteo for years, and my brother has been nothing but fair to the man.
Matteo trusted him as his right hand and treated him like one of the family, which makes his backstabbing even more infuriating.
“Let’s get to work.”
For the next several hours, we work together like a well-tuned machine. Antonio works on extracting information from Zack, Nico deals with the clean-up crew, and my father deals with the cops when they show up following a report about a gunshot.
I spend the entire day in my office, using the information Antonio extracts from Zack to fix the mess he made, then patch the security hole in the computer network.
I quickly realize that we won't recover all the money Zack stole, but it's the betrayal of someone so close to my brother that hurts more than the lost money.
Still, I'm determined to get at least a huge chunk of it, if only to get Zack back for the betrayal.
It’s nearly five in the evening when I finally shut down my computer, and then everything comes crashing down.
One call to Fiona tells me that I’m still blocked, and fuck if that doesn’t sting.
I’m not certain showing up to her place will win me any favors, so I decide to skip my apartment, too, and head to my family’s estate.
My mood doesn’t improve around my family, so I decide to remove myself from their company.
I walk outside, and I’m unsurprised when I find myself heading toward the butterfly atrium behind the house.
The moment I step in through the doorway, a wave of warmth washes over me, contrasting with the cool air of the house.
The air here is thick and humid, and when I take a deep breath, I’m hit with the sweet, earthy scent of blooming flowers mixed with the almost musky aroma of damp earth and something else…
It’s something subtly sweet. Like an overripe fruit.
There are butterflies everywhere. The space is a living and breathing mosaic.
The world in here feels hushed. Almost sacred—but of course it is.
This atrium was my father's gift to my mother, one of the many ways he loved to show his affection to her.
When I step inside, I can almost sense her presence.
Twenty years later, and her touch still lingers on every flower she planted and tended to.
I walk down the rows of flowers, lost in thoughts and memories, when I realize that the atrium is not empty.
I spot my sister, Gabriella, standing in one corner, the same spot our mother used to when she was tending to new flowers.
But Gabriella wouldn't know that. She was a baby when our mother died, but watching her stand on that very spot, hair tied over her head in a messy bun as she works on a painting, reminds me so much of our mother.
I smile and start toward my sister when I realize that she's not alone. Nico, our stepbrother, is with her, standing silently by the side to watch her paint. I sense some weird tension between them as I move closer, but I have enough on my plate and don’t want to poke into whatever the hell is going on between them.
I must make some kind of noise as I approach because they both turn to look at me. My sister’s expression softens into a smile when she spots me.
“Hey Enzo,” she chirps, setting down the paintbrush and turning to me. “What are you doing here?”
“Just thought I'd come out for some fresh air,” I say with a shrug, walking over to peek at her painting.
It's an entire section of a garden. “Wow,” I whisper, leaning in for a closer look, fascinated by how realistic it looks.
I've seen Gabriela's paintings before—hell, every one of us has at least a couple of her paintings in our homes and offices. Still, I can’t help but be impressed by her talent. “This is beautiful, Gabby.”
“Thanks,” she beams up at me. “I’ll paint you one so you can gift it to Fiona since you two are dating now. Do you think she likes flowers? Or maybe something else. Will you ask her for me?”
I sigh as my mood sinks once more, “I don’t think she wants to talk to me right now, Gabby.”
“What, why?” she asks, turning her head to me and then to Nico. “You told me that Enzo and Fiona are together.”
“I thought they were,” Nico tells her, and something crosses his gaze as he looks at my sister, but then it’s gone just as fast. “But apparently, Enzo fucked up.”
“What did you do?” Gabriella’s eyes are back on mine, and I find myself smiling.
Christ, she looks so much like our mother, it’s uncanny. From the hair, to the eyes, and even the small dimples on her cheek—they remind me so much of the woman that I only got to spend thirteen years with before she was stolen from us.
“Enzo!”
I sigh and tell them everything that happened, from our dad setting me up on a date with Natalie and how it's all a misunderstanding.
I didn't want to hurt Eatella’s feelings and had every intention of letting her down easy, but then Fiona somehow found out about the date.
Gabriella's face turns from one of impatience to pity as I explain everything that's happened over the last couple of hours.
When I'm done, I find myself reliving the moment over and over again.
The finality of Fiona’s words as she cut off ties with me. The hurt and betrayal in her eyes.
I fucked up.
Before Gabriella can respond, a familiar voice comes from behind us.
“I thought I might find you here.”