Chapter 2 Honey
Krystal walked out the door, dragging her suitcase behind her with a soft huff. Just as she reached the curb, a sleek sports car pulled up in front of the house. A young man jumped out, took her suitcase, and tossed it into the backseat with practiced ease.
She slid into the passenger seat, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes.
The man, Darren, rounded the car and got in on the driver’s side, grinning at her.
“I thought you were holding out for a fairy-tale ending with Lorenzo, Mrs. Moretti,” he said, lifting his fingers and forming a heart in the air. “Sure you won’t come crawling back by sunset?”
Krystal opened her eyes and scowled. “Have you lost your mind?” she muttered.
She shook her shoulders and straightened her back, turning her head to face the road instead of him.
“He already has someone he likes,” she said flatly. “And anyway, I married him just to help him recover after his accident.”
Darren raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t act tough, honey. You’re a world-famous physician. If all you wanted was to treat him, you didn’t need to marry the guy.”
She let out a sharp breath, then turned to him, snapping, “Shut up and drive the damn car.”
Darren chuckled, sheepish, and started the engine. As they pulled away from the house, she sank deeper into her seat and whispered, almost to herself:
“After his accident two years ago, his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. His grandfather was scared—really scared. I’m just an orphan. My entire education was funded by his grandfather’s charity. I wouldn’t even be a doctor if it weren’t for him.”
She paused, her voice growing softer.
“I didn’t want to expose how accomplished I actually am. So I married Lorenzo, like his grandpa asked, to keep my secret. The only way I could stay close and give him his meds without raising questions was by marrying him.”
Her fingers clenched in her lap.
“He’s fine now. And I’ve paid back everything his grandfather gave me—with interest. I don’t owe anyone anything anymore.”
***
Xander pushed through the glass doors of Manhattan’s most expensive private hospital, Bristen Hospital, heading straight to Room 501 with brisk steps. He didn’t slow down until he reached the VIP suite and stepped inside.
Lorenzo stood next to the hospital bed, arms folded, watching as a doctor checked the pale, fragile-looking girl lying under crisp white sheets.
At the sound of the door opening, Lorenzo’s sharp gaze snapped toward the hallway. His eyes locked with Xander’s as the man stepped inside. He then quietly stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him.
“Well?” His voice was low and clipped, jaw set hard. “Did she throw a fit? Refuse to sign? She can be stubborn as hell when it comes to things involving me.”
Xander shook his head, holding out the papers. “No, sir. Mrs. Moretti signed without saying a word. Didn’t ask for anything. She even refused alimony.”
Lorenzo’s brows drew together in disbelief. He snatched the folder and flipped it open. His eyes scanned the pages with sharp intensity, as if expecting to find some hidden clause or a trick buried between the lines.
“She took… nothing?” he said, his voice quieter this time—stunned.
Xander gave a small shrug and nodded toward the open file. “It’s all there. Not a cent.”
Lorenzo’s grip tightened around the papers, his knuckles paling against the matte finish. His jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might crack a tooth.
“She doesn’t have a job. No family. No friends. She’s an orphan who probably didn’t even finish school,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “And now she’s saying she’ll just walk away from everything—with nothing? How the hell does she think she’s going to survive?”
“Mrs. Moretti said she’ll figure things out on her own,” Xander replied quietly.
Lorenzo slammed his palm down on a nearby table. The divorce papers flew from his hands and scattered across the floor. His voice boomed across the corridor.
“She’s a full-time housewife! What the hell is she going to figure out? Does she think this is a damn movie?” His breathing grew ragged. “Where is she now?”
Xander shifted uncomfortably, already dreading the answer. “The maids told me right before I came here… She went home, grabbed a suitcase, and left. Only packed some clothes. Didn’t take any bags, no jewelry. Just walked out.”
Lorenzo’s face turned stone cold. A nerve ticked violently on his forehead as he clenched his jaw.
“She did what ?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Xander took a careful step back, his throat dry. “Sir… she’s already gone.”
Fury burned in Lorenzo’s eyes. He looked like a man barely restraining a storm.
“She didn’t take a single damn thing with her?
” His voice was no longer calm—it was fire.
“What the fuck does she think I gave her all that jewelry for? Those handbags alone are worth millions! She could’ve lived comfortably for years.
And why the fuck did she even leave the house?
When did I ever ask her to leave the damn house? !”
Xander spoke softly now. “Sir, Mrs. Moretti loves you so much. Maybe the shock of getting those papers… maybe she was overwhelmed. Maybe she didn’t want to inconvenience you by staying any longer.”
Lorenzo’s fury faltered for a split second. His face paled, lips parting slightly, like the breath had been knocked out of him. So pale it made Xander worry. For a moment, he thought the man might collapse from the pressure building inside him.
Without another word, Lorenzo turned sharply and started to storm off.
But then, a weak voice floated out from behind the hospital room door.
“Lorenzo… where are you? It hurts. Why did you leave?”
He stopped in his tracks, fists clenched, shoulders stiff.
He closed his eyes for a second, then turned around slowly, walking back to the room. He reached for the doorknob but didn’t open it right away. His fingers lingered on the handle as restraints passed through him like a shadow. Then, after a breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The girl on the bed looked up. She was petite, with soft blonde hair falling around her shoulders and eyes slightly red from strain or tears, giving her a fragile, porcelain-like appearance.
Her back rested against the pillows, and despite the weakness in her features, her face lit up the moment she saw him. She reached out and took his hand.
“Please don’t leave me yet,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It hurts too much.”
Lorenzo walked to her side, gently patting her hand. “I won’t,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, Esther.”
Then he turned to the doctor beside the bed. “Lyle, she was treated in Japan for two years. Why the hell is her condition worse now than before?”
Dr. Lyle, a short man with thinning hair and tired eyes, looked troubled. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing, Mr. Moretti. The car accident caused blood clots to form in the nerves around her brain. We’ve removed them multiple times, but they keep coming back.”
Lorenzo’s eyes darkened. “You’re telling me you have no solution?”
He shifted uncomfortably before continuing, “Honestly, the only hope I see now is finding Dr. Astra. She’s one of the top neurologists in the world.
She created her own medication protocol and has unmatched success treating nerve-related complications.
Without her, I don’t think we can save Miss Esther. ”
Lorenzo’s already tense face tightened further. He turned back to Esther and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re in this condition because of me,” he said quietly. “If you hadn’t been with me in the car two years ago, you wouldn’t have been in that accident. I’ll make sure you get better.”
Esther smiled softly and wrapped her fingers around his hand. “As long as I’m with you, I can die peacefully. I don’t blame you.”
Lorenzo’s expression didn’t soften. “Don’t say that,” he muttered. “You’re not dying. I’ll find Astra. No matter what it takes.”
She nodded, comforted by the certainty in his voice.
He helped her lie back against the pillows, adjusting the blanket around her. Once she was settled, he turned and walked out.
Esther’s sad gaze followed him until the door closed behind him.
Outside, Lorenzo walked briskly down the hall with Xander trailing behind. They exited the hospital and stepped into the sunlight, heading toward the car parked along the curb.
Just before they reached it, Lorenzo stopped and turned to Xander, his voice sharp and impatient.
“What about Dr. Astra? Did you find her yet?”
Xander shook his head and answered, “She used to keep a low profile. Even then, it was tough to pin down her exact location and send her an invite for treatment. But two years ago, she completely vanished. No one’s seen or heard from her since. I’ve had people looking, but nothing’s come up yet.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened, tension flickering across his face. He raised a hand and ran it through his thick dark hair in a slow, frustrated motion. Then his sharp gaze locked onto Xander.
“Put a headhunt on it,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. “Whoever finds her and connects her to us gets a reward.”
“I’ll get it done right away, Mr. Moretti,” Xander muttered, nodding quickly. Then he hesitated and glanced up at him more cautiously. “What about Mrs. Moretti?”
Lorenzo’s teeth clenched. His expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a growl.
“Leave that damn woman alone. When she’s tired of roaming the streets, she’ll come back on her own.”
Xander gave him a sharp sideways look and muttered under his breath, “Scumbag.”
Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “Did you say something?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his brows drawing together.
Xander straightened instantly, shaking his head. “No, sir. Nothing.”
He rushed to open the car’s back door. “Here you go, sir. Please get in. We’re running late for the meeting.”
***