Chapter 10
Lorenzo
“I was thinking we could get out of here.” Vanessa runs her fingers along the top of my forearm, and goose bumps prickle my skin.
“I already told you that I don’t do one-night stands,” I choke out, really wishing I did because it’s been too fucking long and the woman is beautiful.
“I know,” she says. “But we can still get out of here.”
I stand, and my body sways slightly.
“Here,” she says, standing and gripping my elbow, “let me help you.”
I jolt awake, a flashback from the other night hitting me. I’ve been struggling to remember how everything went down the night Vanessa and I got married.
She drugged me.
Then seduced me.
And when I reminded her that I didn’t do one-night stands, she married me?
It doesn’t make any sense. She didn’t need to marry me to get rid of her virginity …
“Dada!” Leo yells through the baby monitor, pushing all thoughts of Vanessa aside.
I take a quick piss and then head inside Leo’s room to change his diaper and get him dressed for the day.
I usually make it a point to be up and ready before he wakes up, but since I slept through my alarm this morning, I bring him into the bathroom with me, setting up his chair so he’s safe while I shower and get ready.
I have a meeting this morning, but since I still don’t have a nanny, I insisted it’d be done via video.
So, I throw on a suit, wanting to keep it professional and set a good precedent for my team, and make our breakfast. Leo gets oatmeal with fruit, followed by a bottle, and I make myself bacon and eggs with toast with a side of caffeine.
Once we’re both fed and the dishes are done, I set Leo inside his play yard with his toys so I can get through this meeting.
I’m setting up my video conference on the laptop when my phone rings.
“Mr. Russo,” Ronald, one of the doormen, says. “The courier is here with a certified letter that requires your signature.”
I glance at Leo just as Vanessa appears in the doorway. With her brown hair up in a messy bun, her slim neck is on display. My gaze descends to the bright yellow tank top she’s wearing that reads I love talking to myself. She gets me.
With the words written across her chest, my eyes go to the swells of her breasts and then naturally slide down the front of her body, over her flat stomach—where a hint of skin peeks out from the bottom of her tank, matching her tiny yellow cotton shorts—before stopping at her long, toned legs.
She must be a good five foot seven, maybe eight, and all fucking legs.
I imagine them wrapped around my neck as my face delves into her cunt and—
“I can watch him,” she offers, snapping me out of my absurd fantasy and forcing my eyes to ascend back up to hers, which I note are twinkling with mirth.
Fuck, she caught me checking her out.
She quirks a knowing brow and smirks, and I clear my throat.
Matteo needs to find Leysa ASAP.
I cannot live with this woman.
“Mr. Russo,” Ronald says, reminding me he’s still on the phone and waiting for direction.
I glance at my son, who’s playing nicely on the floor, and then at Vanessa again, torn between not wanting her anywhere near my son and not wanting to take him downstairs to sign for the letter. He’s content, and I really need to get through this meeting.
“I’ll be right down,” I tell Ronald and then hang up.
“Just … keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s okay, doesn’t choke on anything, and I’ll be right back.”
“Yes, sir!” Vanessa chirps, her grin widening in mock cheer as she raises her hand to salute me.
Not wanting her to be with him for too long, I rush out of the condo and into the elevator, hitting the button for the lobby. While the elevator descends, I text Kathleen to let her know I’ll start the meeting in five minutes.
The doors open, and I spot one of Matteo’s men standing near the exit. I nod to him, thankful that Matteo has loyal men to keep us safe.
“Mr. Russo?” the courier, standing by the desk, asks.
“That’s me.”
“I just need to see your license and—”
His words are cut off by the sound of glass shattering. Before I can figure out what’s going on, my shoulder is jerked back as blinding pain courses through it and down my arm. When I glance at it, dark crimson is spreading through my white dress shirt.
Shit! I’ve been shot.
Since I’m unarmed, I duck behind the desk as several gunshots pierce the air before it goes quiet.
I look over at my shoulder and wince, knowing there has to be a bullet lodged in there, and when the adrenaline wears off, it’s going to hurt like a bitch.
I’ve only been shot once in my life, and the pain was like no other.
“Who sent you?” Jack, one of Matteo’s men, barks.
I stand, my heart pounding behind my rib cage, and watch as he points his gun in a guy’s face. He’s sporting a black hoodie and jeans, and he’s spread out across the marble floor.
“Santiago,” he chokes out. “She said to tell Lorenzo that Vanessa belongs to her.”
“Boss, what do you want me to do?” Jack asks.
He must have Matteo on the phone, using the communication device in his ear because I’m not his boss and I have no fucking idea what to do.
“You got it.” Jack pulls the trigger, and a bullet shoots through the guy’s heart, the only sound a muffled pop, thanks to the silencer. “We need a cleanup,” he says to Matteo’s other man, Abram, who’s standing in the corner.
“On it.” Abram pulls his phone out and starts handling shit while Jack turns toward me, his gaze landing on my shoulder.
“Lorenzo’s been hit,” Jack says. “Shoulder wound.” He nods as Matteo speaks on the other end, then glances around. “Only witness is the doorman. No, the girl and his son aren’t down here.”
“They’re in my condo,” I choke out, the reality of the situation hitting me.
Had I not left Vanessa with Leo, he would’ve been down here with me, in my arms. He could’ve been shot, and unlike the pain I’m feeling, the bullet would’ve killed him.
“He’s got the doc on his way,” Jack says.
Since I know Matteo’s men will handle everything down here, I head back up to my condo to wait for the doctor. My shoulder is throbbing, but at this point, I’m just thankful that my son wasn’t with me and that it was my shoulder and not a vital organ.
“Oh my God, what happened?” Vanessa screeches when she spots me in the doorway.
The pain is intensifying, and I can feel sweat dotting my forehead as I lose more blood.
“Santiago sent a message,” I bite out. “You belong to her.”
“Oh shit,” she breathes out, her eyes going wide in shock and fear. “Are we safe here?” Her eyes dart to Leo. “Is he safe?”
I ignore the warmth that blooms in my chest that she thought about Leo—unlike his own fucking mother—and chalk it up to me being affected by the bullet lodged in my shoulder.
“Yeah, Matteo’s men are handling it,” I tell her, quickly checking on Leo, who’s still playing with his toys, completely oblivious to the fact that his father is bleeding all over the place.
“Okay.” She nods slowly, her gaze zeroing in on my shoulder. “We need to call an ambulance.”
She pulls out her phone, and I shake my head.
“Matteo’s got a doctor on the way.”
I drop onto the couch and tilt my head back, trying to push the pain aside.
“What if you bleed out?” she whispers, sidling up next to me.
This close, I can smell her floral scent, and I focus on it and not on the throbbing pain that’s taken over the entire right side of my body. It’s sweet and feminine, just like her.
“I was shot in the shoulder, and the bullet’s still in there. I won’t bleed out. It just hurts like hell.”
“What?” She grabs the front of my shirt and rips it open, the buttons flying every which way. “Oh my God! Lorenzo, you’ve been shot.”
I snort out a laugh, and she glares at me.
“This isn’t funny,” she chides.
“No shit.” My eyes lock with hers. “I could’ve been killed, and had my son been with me, he could’ve been as well.
None of this is funny.” I go to wave my arms in front of me to emphasize my point and then flinch when I remember I have a bullet in my damn shoulder.
“Between you drugging me and me getting gunned down in my own lobby, my life has turned into a fucking shit show. If I don’t laugh, I’m going to yell, and I don’t want to do that with my son in the other room. ”
Just as I finish my rant, Matteo walks through my front door with the doctor following.
“I’ll …” Vanessa swallows thickly.
I notice her eyes are filled with tears, but I don’t have it in me to care. I’m in pain and bleeding all over my fucking couch, and my son could’ve been killed, thanks to this woman dragging me into her shitstorm.
“I’ll go make sure Leo is okay while they fix you up.”
She disappears into my office, and I drop my head back with a sigh.
“Please tell me you brought the good shit, Doc,” I say, looking up at the doctor. “I need this pain to go away.”
“God-fucking-dammit!” I hiss as pain radiates through my shoulder and down my arm.
It’s been eight hours since the doctor expertly removed the bullet and stitched me up, assuring me that I wouldn’t have any long-term effects. I had gotten lucky, as far as where I was hit, and aside from needing to give it time to heal, I’ll be okay.
The problem is, I was hit in my right shoulder, and I’m right-handed, making it hard to do anything like reach up into the cabinet, type on the computer, carry my son. The doctor gave me a sling I’m supposed to wear, but when I realized it hindered me from doing anything, I took it off.
“Let me help you,” Vanessa says for the millionth time today.
After Matteo and the doctor left, I canceled my office meeting, needing to get cleaned up and handle the couch. But when I came out, Vanessa had already taken care of the couch. It’s leather, so it wasn’t difficult to clean up, and she mopped and sanitized the floor where the blood had dripped.
I’ve been trying to get work done all day, but between the pain in my shoulder and being shaken up from almost being killed and the thought of my son being killed, I couldn’t focus.
So, I resorted to playing with Leo. Only with a bad shoulder, it’s not easy.
Trying to get on his level, change his diaper, pick him up … every step of the way, I’m struggling.
Ignoring her offer, I try to reach for the bottle when she grabs my hand and stops me.
“Lorenzo,” she hisses, “you’re obviously in pain, and I’m here. Stop being stubborn and let me help you. Once you’re feeling better, you can go back to hating me.”
I sigh and lower my arm.
I don’t hate her.
I want to. After the shit she did, I want more than anything to hate her. But I don’t.
How can I hate a woman who’s simply trying to survive?
She didn’t ask for any of this.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her in …
I try to reach for the bottle again, and when the pain radiates through my shoulder, I lower it and nod. “Fine, you can help me. I mean, I was shot because of you. It’s the least you can do,” I grumble.
I expect Vanessa to give me the verbal lashing I deserve—or at the very least glare at me—but she simply nods.
“Excuse me,” she says.
I move out of her way, and she grabs the bottle, setting it on the counter, and then goes about making Leo a bottle.
While she does that, I join him back in the living room, lying on my left side so I’m at his level. In this position, my arm hurts less.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, ruffling his hair while he plays with his blocks and watches Bluey—a show that seems to run on loop when he’s awake.
The moment Vanessa makes her presence known, Leo starts to crawl over to her, babbling like crazy. He lifts his arms, and she glances at me, quirking a questioning brow.
I nod, and she glances at him, her face lighting up with what looks like genuine happiness.
“Hey, Monkey!” She sits on the couch with him and hands him his bottle.
Usually, he takes the bottle and crawls over to his blanket to drink it, wanting to exert his newly found independence, but he doesn’t do that, choosing to climb into her lap and snuggle into her while drinking it.
She smiles softly at him, gently stroking the hair out of his eyes, and resentment churns in my gut at the tender moment.
Instead of Vanessa holding him, it should be his mother.
Only she viewed him as an accessory, a means to an end.
Instead of her recognizing that having a baby—bringing a fucking human into this world—shouldn’t be treated lightly, she only thought about her damn self.
“If you grind your teeth any harder, you might chip a tooth,” Vanessa says, bringing me out of my thoughts. “I know you aren’t a fan of mine, but—”
“Not everything is about you,” I snap, then exhale a harsh breath, needing to backtrack.
She deserves my hostility for a lot of things, but not for taking care of my son and treating him with tenderness when my shoulder is out of commission.
“I was thinking about his egg donor,” I admit. “She lied about being on birth control so she could trap me, and when she realized I would never be with her after she screwed me over, she used him to steal money from me.”
Vanessa glances down at Leo, her eyes turning sympathetic.
“You have to get approved for almost everything … a car, a house … a credit card. Most jobs won’t even hire you without doing a background check.
But anyone can get pregnant and have a baby.
” She glides her fingers down the side of his face, and his eyes flutter shut. “Even those who shouldn’t be moms.”
Her words are filled with raw emotion, and I have a feeling she’s not just referring to Leo’s mom, but I don’t ask, not wanting to cross any lines with her. She’s already starting to worm her way past the walls I’ve put up, and the last thing I need is to sympathize with her.
She takes the bottle from Leo, setting it on the end table, but continues to hold him, and my heart breaks for my son.
I had a good mom, growing up. She was loving and caring, and she gave Dani and me everything she had.
And because of Hillary being reckless with people’s lives, my son will never know what it’s like to have a mother who loves him.
I stand and walk over to them, ready to take him from her and bring him to my office while I try to get a bit of work done, when Vanessa shocks me by saying, “If it’s okay, I think I’ll hold him for a little while.”
“You sure?” I ask through the emotion that’s clogging my throat and making it hard to breathe properly.
“Yeah.” She leans over and kisses his forehead.
“If you want to get some work done, we’re good here.
” She situates him in her arms so they’re both more comfortable.
“Go on. It’s not like I’m going to take off with him or anything.
” She rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with a baby on my own. ”
“Okay, thanks.” I stand. “If he needs anything, I’ll be in my office,” I say, trying not to think about the fact that she’s acted like more of a mother to my son in the past half hour than I ever saw his own mother act the entire time she was living here.