Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Lorenzo
"Idon't give a fuck about your secrets." My hand tightens on her throat, not enough to choke but enough to remind her how easily I could. "You think I care who tells me why you're not rotting in the ground? I'll kill you first, then find out whatever game you're playing."
Luna's pulse flutters against my palm, rabbit-quick. But her eyes stay steady on mine. The one that fooled me into thinking she gave a damn.
"You won't kill me." Her voice comes out rough from the pressure on her throat.
"Try me." I lean closer.
Something shifts in her expression. Softens. Like she's dropping a mask she's worn too long.
"Are you in love with Sophia?"
My hand moves before I can think, the crack of my palm against her cheek echoing through the office. Her head snaps to the side, dark hair falling across her face.
"You don't get to say her name." The words come out in a snarl. "Not now. Not ever. Her name doesn't belong in your lying mouth."
Luna touches her reddening cheek, and when she looks back at me, there's something broken in her eyes.
"I'm sorry." The words are barely a whisper. "For breaking your heart. For everything I did to you."
What?
This isn't the Luna I know.
"I just asked because..." She swallows hard. "Because I want you to find happiness, Lorenzo. Real happiness. The kind we never could have had."
"Shut up." But my grip on her throat loosens.
"I know what I took from you. Your ability to trust. To love without looking over your shoulder." Her voice cracks. "If Sophia makes you happy, then—"
"I said shut the fuck up!"
The rage explodes through me like wildfire.
I slam my fist into the wall beside her head, plaster cracking under the impact.
Pain shoots through my knuckles but I don't care.
Can't care. Not when she's standing here pretending to give a damn about my happiness after destroying my ability to feel it.
"I was pregnant."
That's it. My hand drops from the wall, knuckles throbbing.
"What?"
Luna's hand moves to her stomach, an unconscious gesture that tells me everything. "When I left."
The room tilts. I take a step back, then another.
"Bruno knew." Her voice sounds far away, like she's speaking through water. "He helped me leave because—"
"Bruno put the bomb in your car." The words come out automatic, my brain trying to process what she's saying.
"No." Luna shakes her head, tears streaming down her face now. "He helped me fake it. He had to because..." She takes a shuddering breath. "Riccardo and I were having an affair."
The world stops.
My lungs forget how to work.
"What did you just say?"
"Riccardo was... we were..." Luna's mouth keeps moving but I can't hear the words anymore. There's a roaring in my ears, like standing too close to an explosion.
Riccardo. My oldest brother. My brother.
He was fucking Luna.
The woman I loved. The woman I would have died for.
They were...
I blink once. The room comes back into focus.
Twice. Luna's still talking, her lips moving, explaining something I can't hear over the sound of my world crashing down.
My hand shoots out, tangling in her dark hair. She gasps as I yank her forward, dragging her across my office. Her hands claw at my wrist but I don't feel it. Can't feel anything except the rage burning through my veins like acid.
"Lorenzo, please—"
I wrench open the hidden panel behind my bookshelf, the one that leads to the safe room. The biometric scanner reads my palm and the door clicks open. It's small, soundproof, with reinforced walls. No windows. One way in, one way out.
"You need to listen—" Luna tries again.
I shove her inside, hard enough that she stumbles and catches herself against the far wall. When she turns back, her eyes are wide with fear.
Good.
"Lorenzo, there's more you need to know—"
I slam the door shut, engaging the lock. The panel slides back into place, seamless. Like she was never here.
My chest heaves as I stand there, staring at the bookshelf. Behind it, Luna pounds on the door, but the soundproofing swallows her screams.
Pregnant. She was pregnant.
Riccardo was fucking her.
Bruno knew. Bruno helped her leave.
My entire family. Every single one of them lying to me.
I'm moving before I realize it, yanking my office door open so hard it bounces off the wall. My feet pound down the stairs, taking them three at a time. The restaurant blurs past me. Staff jump out of my way, pressing themselves against walls.
I burst through the back door into the alley.
Riccardo and Luna.
My brother and the woman I loved.
I need to move. Need to do something before I tear this whole building apart with my bare hands.
I need to go and face Bruno.
Sophia
My feet carry me through Chicago's streets on autopilot.
A taxi honks as I stumble off the curb. The driver yells something but I keep walking.
I can't unsee what I saw.
Lorenzo's hands on Luna.
Stop. Just stop.
Marina's building appears through my tears. The familiar brick facade with its chipped paint and crooked mailboxes. Normal.
I know Lorenzo has this address. Dante picked Marina up from here. But Lorenzo won't come looking. Not now. Not when he has Luna back.
What am I? Three weeks of obligation. A burden he had to marry to keep the peace.
My finger shakes as I press Marina's buzzer. Once. Twice. Please be home. Please, please be home.
"Yeah?" Her voice crackles through the speaker.
"It's me." The words come out broken.
"Sophia? What—"
The door buzzes open. I push through, my legs barely holding me up as I climb the stairs. Second floor. Third. My vision blurs worse with each step.
Marina's door flies open before I reach it. She's in pajama pants and an oversized Northwestern sweatshirt, her face shifting from confusion to alarm in a heartbeat.
"Oh my God." Her hands reach for me, pulling me inside. "Sophia, what happened? You're shaking."
The door clicks shut behind us. Safe. Away from him. Away from them.
"I can't—" My knees buckle.
Marina catches me, her arms stronger than they look. She guides me to her ratty couch, the one we bought at a garage sale freshman year. It smells like popcorn and nail polish remover.
"Talk to me." Marina kneels in front of me, her hands gripping mine. "Did someone hurt you? Did Lorenzo—"
"He was with her." The words rip out of me. "Luna. She's alive and he was... they were..."
Marina's eyes widen. "Luna?"
I pull my hands free, wrapping my arms around myself. "Twelve years, Marina. She's been gone twelve years and the second she walks back in, he's all over her."
"Maybe it's not what you think—"
"I saw them!" The scream tears from my throat. "Through the keyhole like some pathetic child. Pressing her against the wall. The same way he touches me. The same fucking way."
Marina goes still. "Sophia..."
"I want to die."
The words hang in the air between us. Heavy. Final.
"I mean it." I meet her eyes, needing her to understand.
"You don't mean that."
"Don't I?" A broken laugh escapes me. "What's left, Marina? What's the fucking point? I'm trapped in a world I don't understand, married to a man who sees me as an obligation, with a target on my back from every crime family in Chicago."
Marina's hands cup my face, forcing me to look at her. "You're Sophia fucking Torrino. You survived your mom's cancer. You survived Francesco. You'll survive this too."
"I don't want to survive anymore." The tears come harder now, choking me. "I'm so tired of surviving. Of being strong. Of pretending everything's okay when it's not. When it's never going to be okay again."
"Sophia—"
"Once and for all, Marina. I just want it to stop hurting."
Marina's grip on my face tightens. "No. This is not happening. You hear me? This is not fucking happening."
"Marina—"
"No!" She shakes me slightly. "You're stronger than this, Sophia. You've always been stronger than this."
I try to pull away but she won't let go.
"What did you actually see?" Her voice drops, urgent but steady. "Tell me exactly what you saw."
"I told you—"
"No, you told me your interpretation. What did you actually see through that keyhole?"
My breath hitches. "He had her against the wall."
"Okay. And?"
"His hands were... he was holding her."
"Holding her how? Like a lover? Or like—"
"I don't know!" The admission burns my throat. "I don't know, okay? I saw them together and I ran."
Marina's eyes search mine. "So they could have been fighting. He could have been threatening her."
Hope tries to spark in my chest. I crush it immediately.
"Don't." I shake my head violently. "Don't make me hope. I can't... if I let myself hope and it's exactly what I think it is, I'll shatter completely."
"Sophia—"
"I'm so tired, Marina." The words pour out, unstoppable now. "I'm so fucking tired of all of it. Of being scared. Of not knowing who to trust. Of loving someone who might not love me back. Of this whole fucking world where people kill each other over territory and money and pride."
My voice rises with each word.
"I'm tired of being strong!" I'm shouting now, my throat raw. "I'm tired of pretending I can handle this! I'm tired of acting like I belong in their world when I don't! When I never will!"
"Then scream." Marina releases my face and stands up. "Scream it out."
"What?"
"You heard me." She pulls me to my feet. "You need to explode? Then explode. Scream."
I stare at her.
"Do it!" Marina's own voice rises. "Fucking scream, Sophia!"
Something breaks inside me. The sound that tears from my throat isn't human. It's pure rage and grief and exhaustion given voice. Every loss, every fear, every moment of helplessness from the past month pours out of me.
Marina screams with me. Her voice joins mine, encouraging me, giving me permission to let it all out.
I scream for my mother, dead three weeks and I haven't properly mourned her.
I scream for Lorenzo, for wanting him when he might want someone else.
My voice cracks, breaks, but I keep going. Marina's hands find mine, squeezing tight as we both scream at her apartment walls, at the universe, at everything that's gone wrong.
When I finally stop, my throat is destroyed and my whole body shakes. But I feel lighter. Like I've expelled poison from my system.
Marina pulls me into a fierce hug. We're both breathing hard, tears streaming down our faces.
"Better?" she whispers against my hair.
I nod against her shoulder. Not fixed. Not healed. But better.
"Good." She pulls back, studying my face. "Because now we're going to figure this out. Together. Like we always do."
The apartment feels too quiet after all that noise. My ears ring. My chest still heaves with leftover sobs.
"I don't know what to do," I admit.
"First, you're going to drink some water because you probably just destroyed your vocal cords." Marina moves toward her tiny kitchen. "Then I'm ordering pizza and we're going to talk through this rationally. Figure out what's really happening before you make any decisions."