Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lorenzo
The last week with Zara had ruined me.
No, worse.
It had given me a taste of something I could never survive losing.
I only had a week left to convince her to stay. A few days to prove I wasn’t the kind of man she should run from. That I was worth the risk. Worth the damage that came with loving me.
And I’d never worked so hard for anything in my life. Not the business. Not my freedom. Not even survival. But Zara had become the axis my world spun on, and if she left, I wasn’t sure I’d survive the fallout.
The last few days had been good, better than good. She’d cooked for me. Let me hold her at night. Laughed at my dry jokes. And this morning, she’d kissed me before leaving for work. A real kiss, soft and lingering, not the desperate, hungry ones we shared in bed.
Some part of me was starting to believe I might actually deserve her. That I might actually be a better husband than my dad ever was. That maybe he hadn’t ruined me to the point of being an equally sorry excuse of a man.
Tonight, I’d planned a private dinner on my boat, the Bella Notte. Zara had mentioned that she’d never been on one, and I wanted to give her something special.
The sun was setting over the marina, painting the sky in shades of orange and rose.
The salty sea breeze carried the sound of water lapping against the hull, mingling with the distant clink of halyards and the low hum of engines.
I breathed in the briny air, sharp and cool, mingling with the faint scent of garlic and tomatoes drifting from the galley.
I had the chef prepare her favorite: lobster linguine, the one she’d ordered at that restaurant weeks ago.
Even now, the aroma of buttery shellfish and fresh herbs curled around the deck, promising comfort.
Inside, the soft clink of silverware on china punctuated the quiet, making the moment feel both intimate and fragile.
I wanted her to see that I could be soft. That I could be the man she needed.
I heard the door to the cabin open behind me.
“There’s my wife—” I turned, a smile already forming on my lips.
It died the second I saw who it was.
Vanessa.
Months ago, I’d made the mistake of entertaining her for a few empty nights. Since then, she’d become a parasite I couldn’t shake loose.
She wore club clothes, heavy makeup, and overpowering perfume. Desperation flickered in her eyes, edged with spite. Her lips curled; her gaze swept the boat, landing on me. She wanted payback for being shut out, or maybe just the satisfaction of ruining what wasn’t hers.
“What the hell are you doing here?” My voice was like ice.
“So it’s true,” she said softly. “Lorenzo Falcone playing husband. This is an unexpected turn of events.”
Her gaze swept over the candles, the wine, the carefully set table, and her mouth curled.
“Why are you here?” I repeated, flat.
She laughed softly. “I came as a courtesy. I have information you might be interested in.”
“Information about what? You better not be wasting my time.”
She reached out, her fingers trailing down my chest. “I don’t know the details. But people are talking about your father losing control. Rivals think the Falcone empire is getting weak.”
I grabbed her wrist, hard enough to make her wince. “Why tell me?”
A sad smile touched her mouth. “Because once upon a time, we were friends.”
Vanessa studied me for a long moment before her expression darkened slightly. “You should be careful. That wife of yours might not last long.” She added.
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. My voice dropped to a whisper, low and dangerous.
“You walk out of here right now, and I’ll forget this ever happened. But if I see you again, if you go near my wife, I will deal with you myself. Do you understand?” I forced an edge into my voice, keeping it calm but firm.
Her breath hitched. She knew I wasn’t bluffing.
But before she could respond, I heard the cabin door open again.
And I saw Zara, her face drained of color.
She stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes locked on Vanessa’s hand still pressed against my chest.
Vanessa straightened immediately, a sly little smile curling her mouth. “Well. There she is.”
My jaw tightened. “Vanessa—”
“No, it’s fine.” Zara’s voice came out calm enough to surprise me. “Who’s your friend?”
The tension in the air sharpened instantly.
Vanessa stepped forward, extending her hand like this was a polite social call instead of a loaded gun. “Vanessa.”
Zara looked at the offered hand for half a second before ignoring it entirely.
The silence that followed was deafening and Vanessa took note, using that as a chance to make her escape.
I closed my eyes, composing myself, before looking at Zara.
Her eyes were wet. Her hands were shaking.
She looked devastated, and I hated seeing that look on her face.
For a moment, she just stared, as if her mind couldn’t quite process what she was seeing.
I could almost see the thoughts racing behind her eyes: flashes of every broken promise, every night she’d wondered if she was enough, every time she’d taught herself to expect disappointment and betrayal.
Her lips trembled, and her face shifted from confusion to pain to that familiar mask of disappointment, the memory of old wounds cracking open all over again.
“Zara—”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t you dare.”
“It’s not what it looked like.”
“Oh, really?” She laughed, hollow and broken. “Because it looked like she was all over you, and you were standing there letting it happen.”
“I wasn’t letting her. I was about to throw her off the boat.”
“Right. Because you’re so innocent.” She backed away, her heel catching on the edge of the deck. “You know what? I’m so stupid. I actually thought—” She stopped, pressing her hand to her mouth. “I thought maybe this could work. That you were different.”
“She came here uninvited,” I said tightly. “I told her to leave.”
“And before that?” Zara shot back. “How many women were there before me, Lorenzo? How many women touched you like that? How many promises have you made?”
“None of them mattered; they are not you, Zara.”
I moved toward her instinctively, and she flinched.
That alone nearly fucking killed me. Frustration clawed at my chest. “Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because every man in my life has lied to me!” Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face. “My father left. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had has cheated or tossed me aside. And you—” she choked on the words.
I stepped toward her, hands raised. “I’m not them.”
“No, you’re not.” Her voice stayed calm, but I could hear something breaking beneath it, anyway.
“You walk around acting like this version of you is enough to erase everything else. Like expensive dinners and soft moments somehow change the fact that your world is…” She gestured vaguely around us. “This.”
She was crying openly now, her shoulders shaking. I’d seen her angry, scared, and defiant. But I’d never seen her this broken, this small.
“Zara, please. Just let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain? That I’m not enough? That I’ll never be enough?” She laughed bitterly. “I was never going to fit into your world. People like me don’t get happy endings. We get abandoned. We get used to it. We are left with the pieces of someone else’s mess. ”
“You’re not a mess.”
“I am a mess, Lorenzo! Broken and damaged. I should come with a warning label. And you—you’re supposed to be the one who fixes things, but you’re just—” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “You’re just another man who’s going to break me.”
Something in me snapped.
I closed the distance, grabbing her face in my hands. She flinched, but I held her, forcing her to look at me.
Something in me snapped.
“I am not them. I don’t give a fuck what you think.” The words came out sharp, fierce; my voice shaking. I saw the shock in Zara’s eyes, the way her breath caught, and for a moment, I almost wanted to take the words back. But I needed her to understand how far I would go to protect her.
“I mean it.” My voice was raw, desperate—a tremor slipping in that I couldn’t hide.
My hand shook as I reached for her, every muscle tight with fear that I was losing her for good.
“I would burn this entire city to the ground before I let anyone hurt you. Including myself. Do you want to leave? Fine. But don’t you dare stand there and tell me I’m like the other men in your life. Because I’m not. I love you, Tesoro.”
The words hung between us. I hadn’t meant to say them. I hadn't planned it. But they were true, fucking terrifyingly true.
She stared at me, her breath hitching. “You can’t say that…you don’t mean it.”
“I mean every single word. I love you so much. I can’t think, can’t breathe when you walk away from me.” My hands trembled. Fear, desperation, and longing tangled inside me as I held her gaze. “And if you leave me, I swear to God I’d lose my fucking mind.”
Then she pulled away. “I need… I need time.”
“Zara—”
“Just—” She held up her hand, backing toward the cabin door. “Please.”
She turned and fled.
I stood there, alone on the deck, the sound of her sobs echoing in my ears.
The city lights glittered in the distance, mockingly beautiful.
And I had never felt more like I was drowning.