Chapter 5 A Cursed Fate #2
But Krystal didn’t answer right away. Her mind was still spinning with the image of Lorenzo’s face—those burning eyes, that possessive grip. It was like he haunted her, even in the places she ran to forget him.
“I swear, Darren,” she hissed, rubbing her temples, “I need an exorcist or something. Ever since the divorce, he’s everywhere. I just ran into him again. In the hallway. How does that even happen?! What kind of cursed fate is this?”
Darren wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s alright,” he said calmly. “We’ll deal with him later. Right now, let’s just get you back. Everyone’s waiting.”
“Yeah, alright,” she mumbled, leaning slightly into him as they started walking back.
But just as they turned the corner, Lorenzo appeared in front of them like a shadow. Krystal flinched back, startled.
His cold gaze swept over Darren first, then zeroed in on the arm resting casually around Krystal’s shoulder. His eyes darkened. His jaw ticked.
“Who is he?” Lorenzo asked, his voice low, hard, and deadly calm—danger wrapped in a tailored suit. He didn’t look at Darren. His gaze was locked on Krystal.
He didn’t even blink.
“I’m her—” Darren started, straightening up, ready to speak, but Krystal quickly grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly to stop him.
“He’s my photographer,” she answered, her voice steady, but her eyes held a flicker of unease.
Darren shot her a confused look, but she pinched his arm and silently mouthed, ‘Don’t speak.’
Lorenzo’s eyes didn’t miss a thing.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the way Darren touched her—his arm casually slung around her shoulders, the way she looked up at him. That touch alone was enough to make him want to break something.
His jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body screamed to rip her away from Darren. But instead, he stood rooted, anger simmering beneath the surface.
Looking between the two of them, his voice dropped, dark and quiet. “You are sleeping with him?”
Krystal’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide. For a second, she couldn’t even breathe. Then, she blurted out in a rush.
“No! I’m just a model for him.”
Realizing how stiff and unlike herself she sounded, she quickly softened her tone. Her voice dropped into the gentle, delicate, fragile husky whisper she’d been saving just for him these past two years.
“I needed money to support myself. So, I’m working as a bikini model for him.”
‘If he finds out I’m working as a bikini model, he’ll definitely keep his distance. No way he’ll risk his precious reputation for someone like me. Nothing drives this Cactus more insane than the thought of scandal messing with his image and business.’ She smirked, a sly glint in her eyes.
Darren, already suffering from being pinched half to death by her earlier, nodded quickly. “Yeah, she’s my bikini—”
He stopped mid-sentence, eyes darting to her in disbelief. “Wait… bikini model?”
She shot him a glare so sharp it could slice steel. Darren’s face paled instantly, and he scrambled to fix his slip.
“Yeah—yes. Bikini model for me,” he repeated, forcing a laugh and pulling her a little closer. “She’s mine for tonight. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Without another word, he started to walk away with her.
Darren’s arm was yanked clean off her shoulder.
Lorenzo stormed forward like a hurricane. One hand pulled Krystal behind him protectively, the other cocked back—and then it flew.
Crack!
His fist landed square on Darren’s jaw, sending him crashing to the floor.
“Get lost,” Lorenzo growled, finger shaking as he pointed down at Darren. “If you ever touch her again, or even breathe near her, I’ll make sure you disappear from this fucking earth.”
Krystal gasped, her heart leaping to her throat.
Darren tried to get up, but stumbled right back to the ground, groaning in pain. He had taken hits before, but none like this. Lorenzo’s punch had landed hard.
Lorenzo grabbed Krystal’s hand and stormed out of the bar, dragging her behind him as people moved aside in silence. She could barely keep up with his long, furious strides as he led her into the cool night air.
Outside, under the harsh glow of the streetlight, he kept walking until they reached his sleek black car parked across the street.
Krystal glanced at his hand gripping hers—tight, tense—and then up at his face. His jaw was set in stone, his eyes cold.
He didn’t even look at her.
He yanked open the passenger door and practically lifted her inside. He then pulled the seatbelt across her chest, and buckled it with a sharp click.
“You don’t have to do that kind of work,” he said, voice low and rough. His brows were drawn so tight they almost touched. “I’ll give you all the damn money you need. But you’re never going back to that job.”
He slammed the door shut and stalked around to the driver’s side.
Krystal sat there, stunned, her fingers tightening around the seatbelt. ‘What the hell is wrong with this man tonight?’ Her mind raced, confusion and frustration swirling. With a furrowed brow, she unbuckled the belt and climbed out.
“Lorenzo!” she called out.
He stopped instantly, turning halfway. He was just about to get into the car—but froze.
She had said his name. Not ‘baby’. Not the word she used to whisper with soft affection, gentle murmur. Just his name.
Cold. Distant. Stripped of every trace of warmth.
That alone nearly unhinged him.
“Get in the car,” he ordered through clenched teeth, gripping the car door so tight his knuckles turned white.
But she didn’t move. Instead, she stepped back instead.
He circled the car and came to face her again.
Her fingers curled around the hem of her dress. She looked up, her eyes locking with his.
“You’re this worried about me because you love me, right?” she asked softly.
His whole body tensed. His hand went to the hood of the car and curled into a tight fist. He looked away, but then met her eyes again.
“I’m just afraid you’re going to ruin my reputation doing things like that,” he said, voice cold, guarded.
Inside, Krystal smirked, though she didn’t let it show on her face.
There it was—that hesitation, that panic in his eyes the moment she mentioned love. Of course, he didn’t love her. And she knew just how to push him away. Talk about love. Talk about feelings. Nothing repelled men like that.
And anyway, he already had Esther.
Still, she put on a heartbroken expression—eyes full of hurt, shame, voice quiet and trembling. “I’m sorry I’m such a disgrace to you.”
His body stiffened immediately. “That’s not what I meant—”
“I know I don’t deserve you,” she said, cutting him off. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled faintly, painfully. “Esther’s perfect for you. I know you love her. So, I won’t get in the way.”
She shifted on her feet, glancing away, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I asked. Don’t worry. I’m leaving now.”
She immediately sidestepped him and began to walk away.
But Lorenzo spun around and in just a few strides, stood in front of her, blocking her path. His voice cut through the silence of the night.
“So this is why you blocked my number. Because of her?”
Krystal’s brows furrowed, an incredulous look flashing across her face as confusion twisted in her eyes. Her mind scrambled to make sense of his words.
‘What the hell is he talking about?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘This narcissist doesn’t actually think I’m jealous, does he?’
She sucked in a sharp breath, forcing herself not to snap.
Instead, she exhaled slowly, met his eyes, and shook her head.
“No, not that. I was just… I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from calling you. I didn’t want to disturb your life anymore.”
Lorenzo reached out, grabbing her hand gently, his eyes locked onto hers. His voice softened—too soft for a man like him.
“I can’t be with you,” he said quietly, eyes holding hers, “but I can take care of you. You don’t have to cut me out completely. Just understand, I’m not someone who can offer you a future.”
She pulled her hand back immediately, her breath hitching. Her voice cracked just a little.
“Please don’t be nice to me anymore,” she whispered, looking up at him with a fragile expression. “Don’t give me hope, Lorenzo.”
Then she stepped around him again, and this time, she didn’t stop. As she walked away, she let out a deep exhale of relief. A faint smile tugged at her lips.
“Finally got rid of that Cactus,” she mumbled under her breath, heading down the path.
But behind her, Lorenzo stood frozen. His jaw clenched as his eyes followed her retreating figure. Panic began to rise in his chest. She was walking away again—and this time, he had no excuse, no reason, no card left to play.
She was going to disappear from his life again.
‘What if this is the last time I ever see her?’
Desperation finally cracked his restraint.
His heart pounded as he blurted out—