Chapter 9 Intoxicated #2
“Xander needs to learn when to shut his mouth,” Lorenzo growled, his expression tight.
Michael grinned.
Lorenzo picked up the drink and took a long swig, letting the burn settle his thoughts. “I don’t have a choice,” he said flatly. “It was my fault she got hurt. I owe her.”
Michael let out a slow breath, shaking his head. ““Couldn’t you just... I don’t know... cut her a check and send her on her way? One night’s mistake doesn’t mean a lifetime of guilt.”
Lorenzo set his glass down, fingers tightening slightly. “Esther’s injury was because of me,” he said quietly. “Brain clots. She’s living on borrowed time. If I hand her money and turn my back, what’s the difference between me and the bastards who use women and toss them aside?”
Michael stared at him. “But you don’t love her.
Can you really do this? You can play caretaker for a few months, maybe a year.
But a lifetime?” His tone dropped lower, more serious.
“You think guilt is going to replace your wife? You think Grandpa will be okay with you divorcing Krystal for some random woman he’s never even met? ”
Lorenzo’s jaw clenched. A line formed across his forehead, tight with tension. He didn’t say anything—but Michael could see the frustration building behind his silence.
***
The night air was still, the only sound the gritty scrape of suitcase wheels dragging across uneven pavement.
It was late—no cars, no people, just Darren and Krystal walking side by side in the dead of night.
Darren pulled two suitcases behind him, while Krystal walked ahead, heels tapping sharply against the road, her hands empty except for her purse.
Darren stole a glance at her. She looked calm. Too calm.
He had expected hesitation—maybe a second thought about leaving Lorenzo behind. After all, despite everything, Darren had seen the way she looked at him. She still had feelings for him. But pride kept her from turning back.
“You sure we’re really doing this?” Darren asked, keeping his tone casual. “Middle of the night, no goodbyes, just vanishing again. Reminds me of the old days. Running, disappearing, no one knowing where we are unless we want them to.”
Krystal didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”
Her mind was somewhere else—back to yesterday. Back to the moment Lorenzo’s face was inches from hers, his hand gripping her wrist like he couldn’t let go. Back to when he leaned in, lips just a breath away. The way her heart had skipped. The heat. The chaos.
She shook her head sharply. ‘Why the hell do I keep thinking about that asshole?’ she scolded herself.
‘I got the money. I did the job. I married him, cured him, paid off Grandpa’s debt.
Now all I have to do is leave this country, find the bastard who took my first time two years ago, and teach him a lesson he’ll never forget. ’
A sudden ping broke through the night.
Darren stopped walking. His phone buzzed in his hand. He froze as he read the screen.
Krystal turned to him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing the change in his expression.
“There’s a post on the dark web,” he said slowly, lifting his eyes to hers. “Someone’s offering a bounty to drug and deliver Lorenzo. A million-dollar reward.”
Krystal’s expression changed instantly. The calm disappeared. She froze. “For real?”
Darren nodded. “It’s right here. No details on who wants him... just the reward.”
He watched her carefully. “You gonna look into it?”
Krystal looked away, composing herself. Her face hardened, eyes steeling over again. “That Cactus and I are about to be divorced. Whatever happens to him… it’s none of my business.”
She turned and started walking again, her steps faster.
Darren followed after her, watching her tense back, her stiff shoulders.
She was trying to look unaffected. But he knew her better than that.
“He was your patient. You cured him with your own hands,” he said quietly.
“You took care of him every single day. Nursed him back to health. Even if you don’t have a relationship anymore, you worked yourself sick to save his hands.
Took that huge payment to treat Esther. After all that.
.. can you really walk away and watch him get hurt?
Seems a little cold to walk away and let someone else destroy him after all that. ”
Krystal halted mid-step, turning back to Darren with narrowed eyes. “Esther wasn’t even sick,” her voice came out low but annoyed. “But I still did my job. I went there. I treated her.”
Then she bit her lower lip and turned to face Darren fully. “He still owes me the rest of the money. I did my job. Why the hell am I not getting fully paid?”
Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heel and stormed off, heading back toward the city.
“Where is he right now?” she called out sharply over her shoulder.
Darren tapped quickly on his phone, tracking Lorenzo’s location through a discreet GPS. A moment later, he looked up.
“At the Blue Orchid Bar. Hotel suite number fifteen,” he said. “Someone invited him for a business meeting, but with that bounty on his head, I think something’s off.”
“Got it,” she muttered, picking up her pace. Her steps grew quicker, more urgent.
“Hey! Wait for me!” Darren called out.
***
Krystal swiped the spare hotel keycard Darren had managed to get for her and quietly let herself into the suite at the Blue Orchid Bar.
The room was eerily silent.
She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning the space. No sound. No sign of movement. The lights were low, the air too still. Her steps quickened as she moved deeper into the suite, a sense of urgency growing in her chest.
Her heart pounded as she glanced around the suite—empty.
Then suddenly—arms wrapped around her from behind. Warm lips pressed against the side of her neck, kissing softly, almost desperately.
Startled, Krystal gasped and tried to pull away, her elbow swinging back to hit whoever it was—until she turned and saw him.
Lorenzo.
His face was shadowed, brows furrowed deeply in tension, eyes rimmed red and heavy with exhaustion. Every line on his face spoke of a storm raging inside him. His hands slid over her waist with a trembling urgency, and it only took a second for Krystal to realize something was very wrong.
He looked... intoxicated.
“Krystal?” he murmured, voice husky, gaze intense and burning as it dropped to her lips.
Before she could utter a word, his mouth was on hers—fierce, desperate, and hungry. He kissed her like a drowning man coming up for air.
His tongue flicked out, wet and teasing, slipping between her lips to explore delicate strokes.
He traced the curve of her mouth, licking and biting hungrily at her lower lip, sucking it between his teeth just long enough to make her pulse quicken, then releasing with a sharp nip that left a delicious sting.
She stumbled back and fell down, her back hit the bed, and he followed, pressing into her, his lips devouring hers again and again. Full of ache, of need, of longing he couldn’t speak.
Krystal’s breath hitched as his mouth moved with growing urgency, lips pressing and parting, tongue sliding over hers in a heated dance that pulled every nerve taut with sensation. He bit down lightly, then harder, on her lip, teasing and claiming it as his own, making her knees weaken.
Then his mouth drifted down to her neck. His tongue teasing wet circles on the sensitive skin just below her ear. He sucked gently, leaving bruising marks, his teeth grazing and nibbling in between, biting down softly to mark her with proof of his need.
His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, while his lips and tongue continued licking, biting, sucking, igniting sparks that ran wild under her skin.
The combination of sharp bites and lingering kisses made her dizzy with desire and craving, caught between pleasure and pain in the most intoxicating way.
As his hands moved all over her body and his weight settled on hers, her breath caught.
She tried to push at his shoulder. “Lorenzo...”
He didn’t let go.
His mouth dropped to her throat, leaving slow, heated kisses that made her head go light.
“Lorenzo… we shouldn’t stay here. It’s not safe,” she whispered, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at her.
He hesitated, his arms still tight around her.
Taking advantage of the moment, she slipped out from beneath him and stood. But he wasn’t ready to let her go. He grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his chest, his lips crushing hers again.
“Krystal…” he groaned against her skin, his mouth moving down her throat, voice husky and wrecked. “Please…”
That low, desperate plea nearly broke her resolve, but she fought the heat rising in her.
She forced herself to pull away and tugged his hand. “Come with me,” she said quietly.
Dragging him down the hallway, she led him to another suite—the one she’d reserved earlier. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling him in behind her.
They hadn’t even made it two steps inside when Lorenzo slammed her back against the wall.
His body pressed hard into hers, trembling with heat.
He was burning—fevered, flushed, his skin hot to the touch.
His breath came out in sharp, ragged bursts, and his wild eyes locked onto hers like a predator closing in.