Chapter 3 Silence #2
Hearing the voices outside, Lorenzo’s brows drew together in a deep frown. That voice—it sounded so familiar. Confused, he stepped out of the room. The moment Krystal heard his approaching footsteps, she bolted, her heels clacking sharply against the hallway floor as she ran.
Two years was enough time to know his footsteps by heart; it only took her a second to realize it was him.
Lorenzo caught a faint blur of a retreating figure and instinctively moved to follow, striding fast—but a hand shot out, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks.
He turned sharply, coming face-to-face with a man in a tailored suit and an arrogant expression.
Damion let go of his grip and turned to face Lorenzo fully. “Mr. Moretti,” he greeted. “Damion Cage. Owner of Bristen.”
Lorenzo halted, a cold frown forming on his face. He looked Damion up and down with a steely gaze. “Yes?”
Damion took a deep breath. Krystal had vanished down the hall, finally out of sight. He exhaled slowly, then looked back at Lorenzo.
“I’d invited Astra to check in on Esther,” he explained. “But just a few minutes ago, she called and backed out. She said she couldn’t come.”
Lorenzo squared up to him, his expression hardening.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he snapped, voice rough.
At the same moment, Krystal’s footsteps echoed down the cold corridor as she ran off, Lorenzo’s voice still ringing behind her. In her rush, she didn’t see someone standing directly in her way—until she collided with him.
Her heart sank when she looked up.
It was Xander.
“Mrs. Moretti? What are you doing here?” he asked, blinking in surprise.
“Hush! Don’t talk, don’t say anything!” she whispered harshly, slapping her palm over his mouth.
But the man wouldn’t stop talking. “Did you come to see Mr. Moretti? I can take you to him—”
He started to walk around the corner, ready to call for Lorenzo—but before he could, Krystal darted past him and disappeared down the hall.
“Mrs. Moretti? Xander yelled.
Lorenzo’s head turned sharply at Xander’s voice. Without thinking, he rushed after her, but Krystal had already taken off, running fast.
Esther stepped out of her room just in time to hear Krystal fleeing. Her eyes narrowed and she muttered bitterly under her breath.
“Lorenzo already divorced that bitch. Why is she still clinging to him?”
Krystal didn’t stop—not even to breathe. She ran straight out of the hospital.
A car waited by the curb. She yanked the door open just as Darren jumped out, alarm written all over his face.
“Why are you out of breath like this?” he asked.
“Just drive!” she hissed, grabbing his arm and shoving him toward the driver’s seat. “Get in! Right now.”
Without asking questions, Darren got behind the wheel, and within seconds, the car peeled away from the hospital and disappeared into the street.
A moment later, Lorenzo burst through the hospital doors with Xander trailing behind him. He scanned the area, jaw clenched, eyes sharp.
No sign of her.
He let out a harsh, frustrated breath. “Didn’t she come to see me? Where the hell did she run off to?” he growled, hands resting on his hips, his jaw clenched tight.
“I saw her come from the direction of Ms. Esther’s ward, Mr. Moretti,” Xander said carefully. “Do you think Mrs. saw or heard something… that upset her?”
Lorenzo’s expression darkened. His mind raced back to what had happened in the room. The way Esther had clung to his hand. The words he’d said.
“I told Esther that I will care for her,” he muttered, more to himself.
Xander let out a slow sigh. “No wonder. What woman could stand hearing her husband say that to another woman?”
There was a beat of silence. Then Xander glanced at Lorenzo again, his voice softer.
“Sir, If you’re worried about Mrs., maybe try calling her? Talk to her. Comfort her?”
Lorenzo’s expression tightened, his broad shoulders squaring with a tension that made the air feel heavier. His jaw flexed hard, the muscle ticking as he barked, “Why would I be worried about her? Why would I comfort her?”
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and began walking away, his polished shoes striking the floor with sharp, deliberate steps. But halfway through, he froze.
His back was rigid.
His jaw clenched tighter, eyes narrowing.
He dug into the inner pocket of his suit, pulling out his phone with swift irritation. His fingers moved quickly, scrolling through his contacts until he found her name and hit dial.
No answer.
The screen didn’t even blink to life with a ringtone. Just a cold, flat robotic voice: ‘The number you have dialed is not available.’
His entire face shifted. The slight confusion turned into something darker. Murderous.
He spun around, eyes sharp and voice colder than steel. “Call her.”
Xander stiffened and immediately pulled out his own phone, dialing without question. A few seconds passed. Same result.
No ring. No voicemail. Just silence and then that robotic message.
Then his brows furrowed.
“No ring,” he said quietly. “No voicemail either.”
He gave Lorenzo an awkward look. “Sir… Mrs. has blocked you.”