CHAPTER TEN
MARIA
“ What the hell was I thinking?” I thought to myself.
I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Thank God for that knock.
I had let myself get too caught up, too lost in the moment, in him. This was exactly what I had been warning myself against. It was an act—just a performance we had to keep up. So why did it feel so real?
I stepped back, crossing my arms as Lorenzo opened the door. A woman entered, hesitating at the doorway.
She was young—mid-twenties maybe—but exhaustion lined her face. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy ponytail, strands escaping, framing her tired eyes. She wore the black uniform of the club’s waitresses, but something about the way she held herself was off. Her shoulders were curled inward and her fingers clasped together, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
I had seen women like her before.
Too many times.
Women who had spent years learning how to be invisible. Women who had been taught that speaking too loudly or taking up too much space was dangerous.
I straightened, instantly alert.
She glanced at Lorenzo, “Good… evening, sir..I am..” she stuttered. She seemed to be trying to gather her thoughts and words.
“Good evening,” Lorenzo replied casually, his eyes leaving mine to acknowledge her greeting.
Her gaze flickered toward me, and something shifted in her expression—recognition.
“You… you’re Maria Russo,” she breathed, voice unsteady. “You spoke at that women’s rights conference in Paris last year. I was there.”
My stomach tightened. She wasn’t here for Lorenzo. She was here for me.
I glanced at her, my mind flickering a bit to the conference. I was a panelist and guest speaker. I spoke extensively about domestic violence, and I recall a lot of women engaging and asking me questions about their abusive relationships. It was both sad and comforting.
Sad because a lot of women were caught in emotionally and physically abusive relationships. Comforting because they were ready to do something to change their situation.
“I need your help,” She said when I didn’t respond immediately. Her voice cracked on the last word.
She took a shaky step forward and then stopped, suddenly looking unsure of herself. “I—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come up here like this. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
I cut in smoothly. “It’s nothing. Yes, I am Maria Russo. What’s wrong? You said you needed my help.”
The woman hesitated, looking at Lorenzo, who stood at the corner observing without uttering a single word before looking back at me
“I…I just got out of a relationship. My boyfriend—” A pause. A swallow. “My ex—he was…he wasn’t a good person. But I left. I finally left. Just like you told us to do in the conference.”
The words came out in a rush, like if she didn’t say them fast enough, she wouldn’t be able to say them at all.
I nodded, encouraging. “That’s a huge step. I am so proud of you.”
She gave a tight smile. “Yeah. Except he won’t let me take my things from our apartment. I just want to get them and leave town. I don’t want to press charges, I just—”
She exhaled. “I just need to get out. Far away from this.”
I clenched my fists. Of course. How many times have I heard this same story? They didn’t want it to get messy. A part of them still wanted to shield him from the repercussions of his actions. A part of them is still too scared to face the monsters they had once thought they could love into being charming princes.
My heart melted. I knew too well not to push her to take action and press charges so he would pay. This was already a big step she was taking, and any attempt to push her to do more might have a negative effect on her.
“I’ll go with you,” I said immediately.
A sharp inhale from beside me.
Lorenzo. He had been silent all this while, but I could almost hear his thoughts, taking in every word from her.
He grabbed my wrist, pulling me aside to the other side of the large office from her hearing. His grip was firm but not forceful, his voice low. “Are you serious?”
“She needs help,” I whispered back.
He shook his head. “Maria, you don’t even know her. You don’t know how dangerous this situation might be.”
I yanked my wrist free. “I do know because I know what victims look like, Lorenzo. I know what fear looks like.”
His jaw ticked.
He looked over my shoulder, watching the woman wring her hands together, shifting from foot to foot. He was assessing her the way he did everything, looking for lies, for weaknesses, for threats.
I softened my voice. “I know you’re just trying to be cautious, but not everyone has a hidden agenda.”
His eyes flickered almost like I had struck a chord in the rhythm of his heart.
I pushed. “What happened to you?” My voice dropped, quiet, almost pleading. “When did you stop believing in people?”
Lorenzo didn’t answer.
Not out loud.
But there was a gaze haunted in his expression that told me that he didn’t know the answer, but I did. When one has stayed too long in a business like his, you tend to be cautious about everyone and everything. You don’t trust people because they would continuously prove to you why they can’t be trusted. I didn’t blame him. It was the world he was now used to.
A long pause lingered between us.
Then, finally—
“Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m coming with you.”
I let out a breath of relief. “Good.”
Because something told me this wouldn’t be as simple as grabbing a few bags and leaving.
It never was.
******
I asked questions the entire drive, trying to get as much information as I could in the shortest period of time. I could see Lorenzo’s eyes on me through the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at me.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Jeremy.”
“How long were you together?”
“We have been together for six months.”
Six months. Six months was enough for him to make her life a living hell.
“How did you meet?”
“At a bar. He was sweet at first.”
That’s how it always starts. Sweet at first, love bombing at best, and then turning into a disgusting, abusive animal at worst.
“And when did things change?”
The woman—her name was Hannah—shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, fingers twisting in her lap. “Slowly. He started small. A little jealousy, a little control. Then, the first time he hit me, he cried for hours after and swore it would never happen again.”
“But it did,” I murmured.
She nodded, staring out the window. “Yeah. It did. Over and over again.”
Lorenzo hadn’t spoken much, but I felt his presence, his energy sharp and on edge. He was analyzing the situation just as I was. Assessing to know what we were walking into.
But I knew better.
By the time we pulled up to the trailer, the air felt unnerving and eerie. It was exactly as I had pictured it: a deadbeat man living in a filthy environment that reflected everything I already knew about him.
The place was a disaster. He was also one.
Overgrown weeds stretched toward a rusted-out pickup truck in the yard. A few broken beer bottles littered the cracked pavement, and the trailer itself looked like one strong gust of wind would knock it clean over.
I didn’t hesitate.
I knocked hard. Hannah stood stiffly beside me and Lorenzo a few steps behind, silent but solid.
The door swung open, revealing Jeremy.
Greasy, unshaven, wearing a stained wife-beater and cargo shorts that looked like they hadn’t seen a washing machine in months. His bloodshot eyes darted between us before settling on Hannah with a sneer.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You bring another stuck-up bitch to fight your battles now?”
Hannah flinched. “Another,” confirming she had already tried to leave, but he hadn’t let her.
Lorenzo exhaled through his nose, a slow, measured sound. I could feel his patience thinning.
I stepped forward. “She’s here for her things. She has chosen to leave quietly. Don’t let her change her mind.”
Jeremy’s eyes flicked back to me, sizing me up. “Yeah? And what if I don’t let her?”
I took a step forward, my arms crossed and my head tilting. “So, Jeremy, is it? Do you know what you are doing right now?”
His sneer deepened. “Yeah, dealing with two annoying bitches in my driveway.”
I ignored the jab. “No, you’re illegally withholding someone’s personal belongings. That’s theft. And since you’ve already laid hands on her before, you’re looking at harassment and possibly domestic abuse charges.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “You gonna call the cops?”
I laughed. “Oh, I don’t need cops. But the thing about men like you? You’re dumb enough to think you can play this game and win. So, let me make it simple. She’s taking her things, and we’re walking away. No trouble. Or we can escalate, and I promise you, you’ll be the one leaving here in cuffs.”
Jeremy’s face darkened. His fingers curled into fists.
“Bitch, I swear to—”
Lorenzo moved then, stepping in front of me so fast Jeremy didn’t even have time to react. Before the man could blink, Lorenzo had him by the collar, shoving him hard against the doorframe, his feet barely touching the ground.
I heard the thud of his skull hitting metal.
Jeremy yelped.
“You will let her,” Lorenzo murmured, voice calm. Too calm. “And if I ever hear you so much as breathe near her again, I’ll make sure the rest of your life is an absolute fucking nightmare. Do you understand me?”
Jeremy swallowed so hard I heard it. His bravado crumbled like wet paper.
“L-Lo,” he stammered, suddenly realizing who had him pinned. “Lorenzo Bianchi?”
Lorenzo’s grip tightened. “Oh, so you do know who I am. Then, you know I don’t make empty threats.”
Jeremy’s forehead broke out in sweat.
Hannah was shaking beside me, but I caught in her expression—satisfaction. Relief.
I crossed my arms. “Hannah, you can go get your things.”
Jeremy nodded frantically. “Y-yeah. Yeah, take whatever. I don’t want no trouble, man.”
Lorenzo released him, and he stumbled back, clutching his throat like he’d just been yanked from a noose.
Hannah practically sprinted inside, grabbing a few bags and stuffing clothes into them as fast as she could.
Ten minutes later, we were done. Jeremy had fled as soon as Lorenzo had his back to him, sprinting into the street like the wild dog he was.
As we walked back to the car, Hannah turned to me suddenly, throwing her arms around me.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t—”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I murmured back. “Just promise me you’ll never go back.”
She nodded, eyes glassy. “I won’t.”
Lorenzo pulled out his wallet, slipping a thick wad of cash into her palm.
“For the road,” he muttered.
Her mouth opened in shock, but he was already turning away like he hadn’t just handed a waitress a small fortune.
Hannah clutched the money to her chest, blinking back tears. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Lorenzo said. “Just go.”
She nodded, wiped her face, got into her car, and drove away.
I stared at him. He pretended not to notice.
But I had seen it. The softness. The kindness.
A glimpse of the Lorenzo I used to know.
A glimpse of the boy I had loved growing up.