CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LORENZO
I made a mistake coming back. I knew it the second I stepped foot in this place again, but I let myself believe it would be different. What a fool I had been, thinking that maybe the past had settled.
But no. Luca’s been digging, and if there’s one thing I know about my Luca in the years that we have been best friends, it’s that he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. He might be considered reckless and not so serious, but when he sets his mind on something, especially with an external push, which in this case comes in the form of Enrico, he is like a hound chasing a scent. And what he wants is the truth about Shade.
I rubbed my temples, pacing in my office. Shade. The name sat heavy on my tongue, like a curse I could never shake off. I wasn’t the one who set up Maria’s father or killed him. But I might as well have been. I didn’t do enough. I stood there, helpless, watching a man I admired fall, and now?
I ran the city and the underground world, so I don’t know how someone could have killed him and gotten away with it freely without me knowing about it or who it was. I searched, but all the clues led to a dead end.
Now he was gone, and the world believed Shade had pulled the trigger. Maria believed it, too.
And after last night? Damn it. I sat on the edge of my desk, exhaling sharply. I had convinced myself that what we had was just for show, a convenient arrangement that served its purpose. But after last night, after the way she looked at me, after the way she felt in my arms, I knew I wanted more. I needed more.
I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. More was reckless. More was stupid. More was something I couldn’t afford when my entire past was one misstep away from blowing up in my face.
The door swung open, and Dante strolled in like he owned the place. He probably would one day, at the rate he was going.
“Back from paradise, huh?” He smirked, dropping into the chair across from me. “How was the trip?”
“It was a business trip, Dante.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the desk. “Not a honeymoon.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered. “You and Maria looked really cozy the other night at the gala. Those pictures are making the front page,” he paused, “especially the one you two were dancing. Who knew you could dance. I thought you had two left feet?”
I shot him a glare, but he just shrugged.
“Anyway,” he continued, stretching his legs out, “shipment came in last night. No problems. Everything’s running smoothly.”
“Good.” I nodded, but my mind wasn’t on the shipment.
Dante studied me, his smirk fading. “Alright, what’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” I looked away, but Dante wasn’t buying it. He never did.
“You look like someone just told you your puppy got run over, and we both know you don’t have one, so shoot.”
I exhaled sharply. “Luca says they’re close to figuring out who Shade is.”
Dante stiffened. “That’s bad.”
“No kidding.”
Dante leaned forward, his expression serious. “Lorenzo, you need to tell them.”
I shook my head instantly. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
I pushed off the desk, pacing again. “Maria would never forgive me. She’d think I killed her father. That I pulled the trigger on him?”
Dante ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “You didn’t kill him.”
“But I didn’t save him either,” I shot back. “And that’s just as bad.”
Dante was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “That was not on you. How could you have known? Lorenzo, listen to me. If you come clean now, you can control the narrative. You can tell them what really happened.”
“They won’t believe me.”
“They might.”
I scoffed. “Might is a dangerous word.”
Dante shook his head. “Look, if they find out on their own, they’re gonna believe whatever they want. If you tell them yourself, at least you get to explain it. At least you get to show them the truth.”
I rubbed my jaw, heart pounding. “I want to. I do.”
Dante arched a brow. “Then, what’s stopping you?”
I clenched my fists. “Maria hating me.”
“Maria already doesn’t trust you, and she doesn’t trust Shade,” Dante said bluntly. “Luca sure as hell doesn’t. Take advantage of the fact that you are still Lorenzo to them now. What do you have to lose?”
I swallowed hard. “Everything.”
Dante leaned back, his arms crossed. “Then you better make a choice. Because this—this is a matter of sooner or later, Lorenzo. And later is going to be a hell of a lot worse.”
He stared at me one final time before he left the office, but not without saying, “Tell her before she finds out on her own. The truth never stays buried, Lorenzo.”
******
The morning air was cool, like winter, but I barely felt it. My mind was a tangled mess of thoughts, all circling back to the same thing, Maria. Yesterday, after I dropped her off, the night came with torture. I’d stared at the ceiling, replaying every touch and every word, her telling me it was a mistake, and then, the Luca situation. It was a lot. Too many things were happening at once.
Now, as I pulled up in front of her place, I forced my thoughts into a tight box and shoved them away. I had bigger problems. Luca was getting too close to the truth, and if he figured out who Shade was before I could control the narrative, everything would blow up.
Maria slid into the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt without looking at me. I noticed the way her fingers lingered at her collarbone, absentmindedly tracing something. Then I saw the necklace.
The platinum chain with the delicate pendant my mother had given her when we were supposed to get married the first time. I never expected her to keep it. Seeing it now sent a strange mix of emotions rushing through me. I started driving, still caught up in my thoughts for a while, and Maria was on her phone, scrolling. I wanted to say something, but before I could, Maria turned to face me, her brows furrowed.
“You look distracted,” she said, her voice soft but perceptive. “Something on your mind?”
I forced a smirk. “Work stress.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly as if debating whether to believe me. Then, she sighed and turned her gaze back to the road. “Well, just don’t crash the car while you’re lost in your deep, mysterious thoughts.”
I chuckled. “No promises.”
My eyes flicked back to the necklace. “So,” I drawled, keeping my tone light, “you kept it.”
Maria followed my gaze and touched the pendant. “Yeah.”
“Was it because you knew you were going to marry me again?” I teased, watching her reaction closely.
She rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile on her lips. “Absolutely not.”
“Uh-huh.”
She let out a small laugh before shaking her head. “I kept it because I knew what it meant to your mother. She gave it to me, and I didn’t want to let that go.”
Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten. Before I could respond, we arrived at my mother’s house.
My mother adored Maria. That much was obvious the moment she opened the door and pulled her in like she’d been waiting a decade to do it. There was no hesitation, just arms wide and heart first. She hugged her like she was afraid she’d vanish again, holding on a little longer than necessary.
“Ma,” I muttered, standing there like a third wheel in my own family reunion.
She finally let go and cupped Maria’s face, eyes flickering with all that soft wisdom that came from years of surviving, loving, losing, and still choosing to smile anyway.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” she told Maria, her voice warm as the fresh cinnamon tea she always made when she was expecting someone important. “Lorenzo was always a fool for letting you go.”
Maria laughed. “He tells me the same thing but somehow manages to make it sound like my fault.”
I groaned. “Can we not gang up on me this early in the day? I brought her back, didn’t I? That should count for something. Plus, she ran.”
“Because you were impossible,” Maria quipped, smirking as she slipped her coat off.
“She’s not wrong,” my mother said, already turning toward the kitchen. “Come, sit, both of you. I made tea. Lorenzo, be useful.”
Ah yes, nothing humbles a man like returning to his childhood home and being ordered around like he’s still thirteen and can’t be trusted with a kettle.
I followed her into the little kitchen. Nothing much had changed in there—the wallpaper still had that faded blue print, and the window above the sink still let in just enough light to make everything feel golden. I grabbed the tea tray while Ma pulled out her good china—cups that were only used for people she liked. That was a big deal. She even brought out the almond cookies. I hadn’t seen those since before Dad died.
We sat in the living room, the three of us. Maria was perched beside my mother on the sofa while I poured the tea and tried not to feel like the world was gently shifting under my feet.
“This is lovely,” Maria murmured, cradling the cup between her hands. “I forgot how good your tea is.”
“She never forgets,” I said, taking my spot in the armchair across from them. “She just pretends to be humble.”
My mother waved me off like I was a fly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s always been too mouthy. But he makes good tea. I’ll give him that.”
She turned to Maria again, her voice softening. “Did he ever tell you how much he gave up for me?”
I tensed. “Ma—”
“He put his whole life on hold,” she went on, not even looking at me. “He took care of me when he should have been living his own life, running the streets with that wild brother of his. Falling in love. Making mistakes.”
Maria looked at me, and there was something in her eyes—sadness maybe, but also something fierce and unspoken. Understanding, maybe. A realization of all the things I never told her.
“It wasn’t—”
“It was something,” Ma cut in gently but firmly. “And I always thought that’s why he never settled down. Maybe he was too busy worrying about his old mother.”
I glanced away, rubbing the back of my neck. There were things I never said out loud, and my mother was airing them out like laundry on a sunny day.
She reached for Maria’s hand and squeezed it. “But now, I finally see the light in his eyes again.”
“The light never left,” I muttered under my breath, just loud enough.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it did. Like someone switched it off. He walked around like a ghost for a long time.”
Maria’s laughter broke the tension like sunlight cracking through storm clouds.
“Ma,” I groaned. “Can you not ruin the little bit of cool I have left in front of my fiancée?”
“Sweetheart, that left the building the day you cried over burnt garlic bread.”
Maria snorted into her tea, and I slumped in the chair, defeated but warm. I’d forgotten how good it felt to just sit with them like this. No danger. No secrets. Just peace and almond cookies.
After tea, we sat there for a while longer, listening to Ma retell stories from when I was a boy, the kind that made Maria laugh so hard her eyes watered and made me regret ever being a teenager with poor decision-making skills.
When we finally stood to leave, Maria lingered by the door. She hugged my mother again, tighter this time.
“I’m glad I came back,” she whispered, and I saw my mother nod against her shoulder.
Outside, we walked in silence for a while, hand in hand. She hadn’t said anything in the car. She just looked out the window like she was watching her memories float by. At a red light, I glanced over at her. “You okay?”
She nodded, then reached for the necklace around her neck, fingers brushing the pendant absently.
“She really loves you,” she said softly.
“She’s my Ma,” I shrugged. “She has to.”
“No,” she looked at me, eyes serious now. “She respects you. That’s different. She knows the man you are.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just squeezed her hand.
When we got back to her house some minutes later, she unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door, but I caught her wrist before she could leave. Her skin was warm against my fingers, and I felt her pulse quicken just slightly.
She turned to me, brows drawn together. “Lorenzo?”
“I need to talk to you.”
She hesitated and then let go of the door handle. “Okay.”
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “This isn’t just an act for me.”
Maria blinked. “What?”
“I thought I could do this without feeling anything, but I was wrong.” I looked at her, really looked at her. “I like you, Maria. More than I should. More than what makes sense.”
She didn’t reply immediately, and that silence made my heart race. I braced myself up for impact. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
I swallowed hard. “If this is still just a job for you and if you don’t feel the same, I get it. Just tell me, and I’ll—”
“I like you too.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at her, not sure I’d heard right.
Her gaze softened, a small smile forming. “I was scared to admit it. But yeah. I do.”
I didn’t think. I just moved. One second, we were staring at each other. The next, my hand was cupping her face, tilting her toward me, and my lips were on hers.
The kiss was slow at first and hesitant, like we were both testing the waters. But then Maria exhaled against me, melting into it, and everything else ceased to exist. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tangling in her hair as her hands clutched my jacket, pulling me closer.
She tasted like cinnamon and something sweet I couldn’t place, and it drove me insane. I tilted my head, kissing her deeper, feeling her respond with the same hunger that had been building between us for weeks.
By the time we broke apart, we were both breathless.
Maria’s forehead rested against mine, her fingers still gripping my jacket like she was afraid to let go.
I swallowed. “You should go before I do something reckless.”
A small, breathy laugh escaped her. “Like what?”
“Like tell you to stay.”
She looked at me then, her eyes searching mine. “Would that be so bad?”
Hell no, it wouldn’t. But I knew if she stayed, I’d never be able to let her go. And with Luca digging, with the truth about Shade so close to coming out, I couldn’t risk dragging her down with me. Not yet.
I let out a shaky breath and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go.”
She nodded, but I saw the hesitation in her eyes before she slipped out of the car.
I watched her walk away, and I knew one thing for certain. I was completely, utterly doomed.