Chapter 11 A Bride #2
“Where were you last night?” he asked as soon as she answered. His voice was hoarse, suspicious.
Esther froze on the other end. Panic flared in her chest. She’d drugged him, but she hadn’t gotten the chance to follow through.
If he ever found out she was behind it… she’d be ruined.
“I was at the hospital, Lorenzo,” she said sweetly, voice laced with fake concern. “Where else would I be? Why? Did something happen?”
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, letting out a sigh and dragging a hand down his face.
“You were supposed to come see me last night. Why didn’t you?” she asked with a soft pout in her tone.
“I wasn’t feeling well.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “I’ll come by later.”
He ended the call without waiting for a reply.
Tension pulled at his brows as he sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his temples. Something wasn’t adding up.
Who was the woman last night?
It wasn’t Esther.
Then why did it feel like… the same woman from two years ago?
Lorenzo dialed another number.
“Xander?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Drop off my clothes at the hotel,” he ordered.
“Sir, I came by earlier, but there was no one in Suite 15.”
Lorenzo frowned and walked out of the room. Opening the door, he looked at the room number. “I’m in Suite 20. How the hell did I end up here?”
“I’ll double-check with the front desk, and bring your clothes shortly.”
“Also,” Lorenzo added, his tone turning sharp, “get the footage. I want to see who came into my room last night.”
“Understood.”
Half an hour later, Xander returned with Lorenzo’s clothes. Lorenzo got dressed in the bathroom and came back into the room.
“Sir,” Xander said, stepping in, “the hotel said someone used a man’s ID and name to check into Suite 20.” He gave a nervous chuckle. “Did you, uh… sleep with—”
Xander gave a sheepish grin.
Lorenzo spun around, eyes blazing as he shot a lethal glare at Xander.
“I slept with a woman! Not a man,” he snapped coldly.
Xander grinned, nodding as he tried to suppress a laugh.
“Of course, sir. Just saying what the hotel told me,” he cleared his throat, and continued.
“Clearly, a fake ID and name were used. We can’t trace who booked the hotel room.
The security footage is wiped clean—three hours around the incident are completely blank. Morning footage is gone too.”
Lorenzo clenched his jaw, rage simmering under his skin. “What the hell is going on?” he growled, snatching his phone off the table and shoving it into his pocket.
He turned, leveling Xander with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. “Dig it out. Recover the damn footage. I don’t care how much time or money it takes—I want to know who the hell drugged me last night.”
“Yes, Mr. Moretti,” Xander said quickly, turning to leave.
“Also,” Lorenzo called out, stopping him mid-step, “find out who the woman was. The one who actually slept with me.”
Xander froze, eyebrows rising in confusion as he turned back.
Lorenzo’s expression had grown tense. “It’s possible that the woman I slept with two years ago wasn’t Esther.”
Shock flickered in Xander’s eyes. For two years, Lorenzo had done everything for Esther. Supported her. Protected her. If what he suspected was true...
Before either of them could say more, Lorenzo’s phone rang. He answered with a furrowed brow.
“Mr. Moretti,” Dr. Lyle’s voice came through, rushed and anxious. “Ms. Esther’s condition suddenly worsened. She had seizures. I thought you should know.”
“I’ll be there,” Lorenzo said immediately, hanging up and storming out of the hotel.
***
At the hospital, Lorenzo pushed past the doors, storming into Esther’s room. A doctor stood by the bed, placing sensors on her forehead. The moment Lorenzo entered, the man turned to face him.
“Mr. Moretti,” Dr. Lyle greeted.
“How is she now?” Lorenzo asked, his voice low but heavy with tension.
“She’s stable for now,” Lyle said, exhaling.
“But this morning, she was fine. Then suddenly, convulsions, a rapid spike of clots in her blood. We managed to counteract it with meds, but…” He paused.
“I’m concerned. This isn’t normal. The clots in her bloodstream keeps increasing without any known cause. ”
Lorenzo’s eyes flicked to the frail figure on the bed. Esther stirred, then slowly sat up, her hands trembling as she propped herself against the pillow.
When he stepped closer, she reached for his arm, her fingers cold and weak. “Lorenzo,” she whispered, her voice cracking as tears slid down her cheeks, “do you think... I’m not going to make it?”
“You’re going to be fine,” he said gently, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll bring in the best doctors. You’ll get through this.”
She pulled on his arm, making him sit beside her on the bed. Her eyes searched his face, filled with quiet desperation.
“I can feel it,” her voice dropped to a faint whisper. “I don’t have much time left. Can you… can you please grant me one last wish?”
He stared at her, tense. “What is it? Just tell me.”
“You always promised to take responsibility… for what happened between us that night. You said you’d be there for me.
So, can you please…” She hesitated, her voice barely audible.
“Can you marry me? Even if it’s fake. Even if it’s just…
in front of God. I just want to feel like a bride before I die. ”
Lorenzo froze, his body stiffening. His jaw tightened as he stared at her, the weight of her words heavy in his chest.
After a long silence, he muttered, almost absentmindedly, “We’ll talk about it when you’re better,” he said quietly, forcing a small smile. “Let’s focus on getting you well first, alright?”
Esther gave him a weak, fake smile and nodded, though her eyes dimmed with disappointment.
Lorenzo walked out of the room, tension written all over his face. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing unevenly. Pulling out his phone, he called someone.
“Michael. Meet me for drinks in an hour.”
***
Krystal walked out of the bathroom, towel in hand as she dried her hair. Picking up her phone, she noticed a missed call from Damion. She called back.
“Hello?”
“I’ve got news for you,” Damion said, voice laced with amusement.
“It’s about Esther, isn’t it?” Krystal asked, already knowing. “She tried to drug Lorenzo last night and sleep with him, but that failed. So now, of course, she had to try something dramatic to grab his attention.”
Damion chuckled. “You’re not wrong.”
“Let’s meet for drinks. At Sunny’s, in an hour,” she said with a smirk and hung up.
One hour later, Krystal was driving, music blasting through the speakers. She tapped her foot along to The Black by Taylor Swift, grinning as she sang along.
“God, it feels so damn good not being married anymore,” she muttered, her smile growing. “I don’t have to report my every move. I can go wherever, whenever I want.” Her voice dripped with relief. “So much better than slaving away for that Cactus and not even getting a thank you.”
She tilted her head, slipped on her sunglasses, and pulled into the parking lot of Sunny’s. The music volume dropped as she turned the key.
Just as she was about to step out, she noticed a sleek black car next to hers. The driver’s window rolled down, revealing a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and a teasing grin.
He wore a sharp navy suit, perfectly tailored to his lean frame, with the collar of his crisp white shirt slightly open. His hair was neatly styled, but there was a boyish charm in the way he smiled, like he was always on the verge of a joke.
“Great vibe with that song,” he said, clearly amused.
“Thanks,” she replied with a bright smile, too high on her freedom to hide her good mood.
She stepped out of the car.
Larry, the man in the car, couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was stunning. Long, dark hair, and eyes so captivating he forgot to breathe for a second. His heart hadn’t raced like this in a long time.
“Are you from Manhattan too?” he asked, flashing a flirtatious smile.
“Yes,” the woman replied, slamming the car door shut and striding toward Sunny’s bar.
“Hey!” the man called after her.
She turned slightly, long hair whipping in the breeze with the motion.
“Can I get your number?” he asked, flashing a confident smile. “I’d love to take you out sometime.”
“No, thanks.” She smiled—cool, polite—and turned away, walking toward the bar like she hadn’t just dismissed him with a single word. “I’m happy being single.”
Larry let out a low groan, watching her go.
He sat behind the wheel of one of the most expensive cars money could buy, and judging by the attention he usually got from women, he wasn’t bad-looking either. Her rejection caught him off guard. But oddly enough… he was impressed.
With a small sigh, he patted his chest. “Alright. I’ll be the bigger man and live with the first rejection of my life.”
Once she disappeared from view, Larry finally stepped out of the car, twirling his keys as he made his way inside the bar.