CHAPTER NINE
LORENZO
Maria stood in the middle of my club, taking it all in.
And damn if it didn’t feel right.
It was like she belonged here, and this was exactly where she was supposed to be.
I had never brought her into my world before, not like this. And sure, I couldn’t show her everything—there were parts of my life she could never touch—but this? This, I could give her.
I watched her eyes move over the space. The soft glow of the chandeliers cast a golden light on her skin. Her expression was unreadable, but I caught the way her fingers twitched at her sides like she was trying to make sense of something.
A part of me wanted to reach for her, lace my fingers through hers, and tether her to me before she floated away into whatever thoughts were clouding her mind.
She said she had been here before, which I kind of found strange. I know Maria to be one who defied the norm, but it appears with the time we spent away from each other, there is a lot I didn’t know about her. She used to dislike loud music or crowded areas.
I guess I didn’t know her as well as I thought. Now, I wanted to ask her about her experience and know all the parts of her that weren’t visible to the surface. Instead, I cleared my throat.
“This is where I spend most of my time,” I said, gesturing around. “The club, the casino…they’re the face of the business.”
Her gaze flickered to mine. “And the rest?”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
She rolled her eyes, but I let it go.
I walked her through the space, pointing out the different areas—VIP booths, the bar, the gaming rooms beyond the main floor. I kept my voice easy, letting her take her time.
She seemed fine. Until—
Her eyes landed on the women.
A group of them stood near the bar, talking amongst themselves, a few shooting glances our way. They were part of the club—bartenders, hostesses, dancers—I mean, the strippers practicing for the night.
I knew exactly what Maria was thinking before she even opened her mouth.
“Are you always surrounded by this many women?”
I turned to her, unable to stop the slow grin that spread across my face.
“Well, I won’t use the word surrounded,” I teased, but she didn’t smile, not even a bit. I mused, leaning a little closer, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous.”
Maria scoffed. “Jealous? Please.”
But her arms crossed, and her chin lifted just slightly—a dead giveaway.
I stepped into her space just enough to watch her breath hitch. “You sure? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried.”
She held my gaze, stubborn as ever. But I caught the flicker of something in her eyes—something she didn’t want to admit.
A slow, dangerous smirk spread across my lips.
“Relax, Maria,” I murmured, my voice low and deliberate. “You’re the only woman here I’m interested in.”
Her breath wavered just for a second. And that second? It was enough.
I dragged my gaze down the length of her, slowly, letting myself take in the sight of her trying to fight off her pink, flustered cheeks and the smile about to form on her lips.
Maria shifted like she wanted to step back. But she didn’t. Instead, she lifted her chin higher as if daring me to do something.
And fuck, I wanted to. I wanted to so badly it hurt every inch of me.
Then, she looked away.
I frowned, following her gaze. Her shoulders had gone tense again, her fingers curled at her sides. Whatever had passed between us was gone, replaced by something uneasy.
My voice softened. “You alright?”
Maria hesitated. “I— I am,” she said, but her expression told a different story.
I watched her carefully. “Come to my office.”
She exhaled like she had been holding her breath. Then she nodded.
I led her past the main floor, up the stairs, and down the hall to my office. The space was lined with shelves of expensive liquor, a sleek black desk taking up most of the room.
Maria stepped in, hesitating only for a second before walking toward the window.
I stayed by the door, watching her.
Her fingers brushed over the glass.
“This place feels familiar. I am not even sure anymore. It was dark that night,”
The words were soft and almost absentminded. I wanted to ask her why the thought of being here in the past haunted her so much.
Why did it have such a taunting effect on her?
I stayed quiet.
She turned back to me, eyes searching. A muscle in my jaw ticked. Maria had no idea how close she was to the truth.
I cleared my throat. “Maybe it just reminds you of another club.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go.
I watched her closely, noting the way she shifted and the way her hands lingered on surfaces like she was trying to ground herself.
I moved toward my desk but didn’t sit. I didn’t move too close, either. I didn’t want her to feel crowded.
“If you want to leave, we can,” I said.
She turned to me. “No. I want to be here.”
Something in my chest tightened.
Maria wanted to be here—with me.
She stepped closer, hesitating slightly before leaning against the edge of my desk. “I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
I didn’t say anything. I just let her talk.
She sighed, rolling her shoulders like she was shaking something off. “When did you start all of this?”
My brow lifted. “The club?”
“The business,” she corrected, her gaze sharp. “You used to hate it, remember? You hated how it kept your father away. You always said you’d never be part of it.”
A sharp laugh escaped me. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
She nodded, arms crossing. “So, what changed?”
I hesitated.
Then, I shrugged. “He died.”
Maria blinked.
I let the word settle between us before continuing, my voice quieter. “I thought I could stay out of it and that I could be different. But the moment he was gone, everything landed on me.”
She studied me. “You could’ve walked away.”
“No.” My voice was firm. “I couldn’t.”
She searched my face like she was trying to understand.
I smirked, breaking the heaviness in the air. “And besides, if I left, I wouldn’t know that me being surrounded by women made you jealous,”
Maria groaned. “Lorenzo.”
I laughed.
For the first time that night, she smiled.
And just like that, everything she was feeling was making her tension soften, settling into the familiar and easy part of her that I was used to.
Maria leaned against the desk, letting out a long breath. “I still think you’re an idiot.”
I grinned. “I know. No news there.”
And maybe I was. Or I was becoming one for her.
But at that moment, standing there with her, I didn’t care.
Maria’s question still lingered in the air, wrapping around me like a noose.
When did I start all of this? I had given her a generic answer, but the answer wasn’t that simple.
Because the truth was—I hadn’t started anything.
It had started before me. Before I even had a choice.
And suddenly, I wasn’t in my office anymore.
The walls of our home trembled with the weight of my parents’ voices.
“You’re not the man I married, Alessandro Bianchi!” My mother’s voice cracked, raw with rage and heartbreak. She always called him his name when she was angry at him.
I stood outside their bedroom door, too young to understand and too old to ignore it.
My father’s voice was quieter. Tired. “Everything I do, I do for you. For him.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” my mother spat. “You think this is for us? You think we asked for this? I look at you, and I don’t see my husband anymore—I see a monster!”
Silence.
I pressed my ear to the door.
When my father spoke again, his voice was hoarse. “Do you think I wanted this? That I had a choice? This world doesn’t let you choose, Isabella.”
“Then leave.” My mother’s voice wavered. “We can leave.”
A bitter laugh. “And go where? You don’t just leave this life, Isabella. You survive it.”
I remember the sound of glass shattering.
“You could have been different,” my mother whispered.
I never heard my father respond.
Maria’s voice pulled me back.
I blinked. The office came into focus—the dim light and the woman standing just feet away, watching me.
She saw it.
She saw the storm in my eyes.
I forced a smirk. “What? Lost in my handsome face?”
Maria didn’t laugh. “Did my question stir up something?”
I turned away, reaching for a glass on my desk. “Relax, Maria. You’re overthinking.”
But she knew better.
Her eyes lingered on me for a second too long before she smiled—light and easy. A deliberate change of subject. “You know, despite everything, I think you’ve done well for yourself. You stepped up and took leadership. That’s not easy.”
I exhaled, tension slipping from my shoulders.
“Are you complimenting me?” I teased. “Careful, Maria. I might get used to it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t push it.”
I smirked, but something about her words settled deep inside me. Maria had always seen me for who I was—before the business and before my last name turned into a chain around my neck.
And now, knowing she saw me as more than just a guy caught up in a world he didn’t choose, knowing she thought I was capable—God, it did something to me.
“You’ve always been the strong one,” I admitted. “The way you fight for yourself, for what you want…I’ve always admired that about you.”
Her lips parted, surprised and mesmerized by my words just as much as I was mesmerized by them.
I stepped closer, slowly counting the inches left to close the distance between us.
And she didn’t move away.
I watched the way her breath became shallow and the way her pulse flickered at her throat. My gaze dipped to her lips—soft, parted, and waiting.
I wanted to kiss her.
No, I needed to kiss her.
My fingers brushed her wrist, a barely-there touch, but it sent a shiver down her spine. I saw it. I felt it.
Maria’s eyes met mine, dark with the same desire I felt.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us spoke.
I leaned in, already feeling her heaving breath on my face, my lips inches away from closing in on hers.
Knock. Knock.
The sound shattered the air between us.
Maria jerked back like she’d been burned. I closed my eyes, cursing under my breath.
Fuck!