Chapter Nine
Lorena
The tantalizing scents of freshly baked goods and the buzz of conversations fill the air as I push my cart into the produce section in the fresh food market. My muscles ache from all the work I’ve had to do for the past few days. I haven’t had the time to do anything for myself, thanks to Leonardo.
I've been MIA from my online audience, leaving them hungry for new content, and I feel bad for disappearing from them. Today, Josie's offered a hand with lunch cleanup, granting me a rare breather. Deciding to whip up something for my followers, I head to the mall for groceries.
I glance over the rainbow of colors that greet me. Shelves of vibrant, colorful fruits and vegetables line the section, making my mouth water. I inhale deeply, and the fresh scent fills my lungs. I almost forgot what it felt like to visit the shopping center. When I lived alone, I visited the shopping center at least twice a week. But I haven’t been here ever since I started working at the Vitale household. I don’t do the shopping since I was assigned a personal shopper to whom I give all my market lists. Even though shopping for food is therapeutic for me, I’m grateful it is not one of my many responsibilities as Leonardo’s chef.
I walk over to the tomato stand, in search of the perfect, juicy tomatoes to make my meal of slow roasted tomatoes and basil bruschetta with grilled lemon chicken. I usually eat the meals I prepare for the camera alone. But now, I have Josie, Hilda, and Blanco to share with, which is why I buy the food items in larger quantities than I normally would.
I reach out to touch the tomatoes, feeling the firmness beneath my fingertips.
Next stop: meat. I grab plump, chicken breasts, then detour to the bakery, drawn by the warm, buttery aroma. Though I don't typically bake for my online audience, maybe I should try it one day. I select two long, crusty filoni.
With my cart now brimming with carefully chosen ingredients, I head to the checkout counter. As I watch my items being scanned, I suddenly feel a prickly sensation on my skin, like someone is watching me. I glance around, but I only see people shopping and minding their business. I shrug the feeling off.
“Thank you,” I mutter to the cashier as I carry the filled bags and walk towards the exit. As I step onto the parking lot, I can’t help but feel it again—that I’m being watched.
I walk towards the black Toyota Camry that brought me here. As my driver assigned to me spots me approaching, he comes out of the car and helps me load my groceries into the trunk of the car.
“Thank you,” I say to the driver.
He just smiles before we get into the car, and he zooms off. I arrive home in no time, and I am glad to meet the house quietly. Carmela had gone to visit her friends earlier, the twins are rarely at home during the day, and Leonardo is thankfully not working from home today.
I go into the kitchen to meet Josie, who is texting someone on her phone. She smiles at me when she sees me.
“You’re back early,” she says, helping me unpack the things I bought.
We load the fresh tomatoes, spices, chicken, vegetables and every other thing I bought onto the counter.
“You don’t have to help me, Josie,” I say when she takes the tomatoes to the sink to wash them.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to,” she says, before adding, “Besides, I want to see how you make the food, and what it tastes like,” she wriggles her eyebrows at me.
I laugh. “So, you just want to eat?”
She nods shamelessly.
“Well, you’re lucky I bought enough ingredients for four people,” I say, and Josie narrows her eyes.
“Don’t tell me you told Hilda and Blanco too,” she says in a whiny voice. “I thought it would just be the two of us…”
“Why? Cause you don’t want to share?” Blanco interrupts at the exact moment, stepping into the kitchen with Hilda.
“Exactly. I do not want to share, especially not with the both of you,” Josie huffs.
Hilda pouts playfully. “Aw. Too bad you’re not the one calling the shots.”
“Ugh! Why do I have to be stuck with the both of you in this house?” Josie groans, earning a laugh from me.
“Guys, the food will be enough for the four of us,” I say as the three of them begin to prep the vegetables to be cut.
My heart warms up at the gesture. My friendship with my kitchen sous-chefs is one of the best I’ve had. All my life, I always kept to myself. I had my personal issues, and I didn’t want to add to that by bringing friends into the mix. I believed I could function best on my own, and I did for years. But just weeks of working here have made me feel the love and support I haven’t received from anyone in my entire life.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, before quickly walking out of the kitchen.
I rush up to my room and grab my camera and filming equipment. Then I set it up before getting straight to work, with Josie helping in the background. At some point, Hilda and Blanco join in, watching mesmerizing gazes. I'm grateful they don't pry into my personal life or question my social media presence; they simply offer their silent support.
When I’m done cooking, we all sit around the kitchen counter and devour the food. I still have a few hours before we have to start making dinner, so I go up to my room and begin to edit the videos. After editing, I post the video and decide to take a nap. I’m not the kind of creator who posts a video and monitors it immediately to see the likes or comments I get. It makes me anxious. When I post, I distract myself by doing anything that will keep my mind off the video for the next few hours. And with the engagements and followers I have, when I come back to check hours later, I see that the video is already doing well.
However, today is different. Barely after posting, a comment notification grabs my attention. It won’t hurt to check just one comment, so I open it.
My heart lurches to my throat as I read the bold words.
YOU CANNOT HIDE FOREVER. I KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOU ARE.
This can’t be happening. No! Not now when I’m finally becoming happy again.
My eyes scan over the words again and again until I almost can’t breathe. With shaky fingers, I press delete. The words disappear from my phone screen, but they are already engraved in my head. My muscles are aching, and my body is tired, but sleep has suddenly eluded me.
Someone knows who I am. Someone knows my true identity.
I want to be distracted. I decide to go back to the kitchen and prep for the meal. Josie, Hilda, and Blanco are the ones who usually prep the meals, but today I want to do it myself. I don’t want to think about the comment. I don’t want to think about the possibility that I have been found, or how my life will change afterwards.
I knead the dough, which will be used to make pasta from scratch. Leo demands that everything is made from scratch, including pasta. At this moment, I’m grateful that I can pour my anger and frustration onto the innocent dough.
I knead and pound with all my strength, and when it is ready, I begin cutting it and later dumping it into the large pot of boiling water on the stove. Josie, Hilda, and Blanco come to join me moments later, shocked that I began prepping before them.
Their usual chatter begins, but I remain silent throughout. Josie’s words fly past my ear as my mind swirls and spins.
“Are you okay?” I don’t realize the question was for me until I see the three of them looking at me with curious eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired,” I murmur.
Josie sighs. “I don’t know what you did to Don to make him dislike you this much. All the past chefs never had to work like this.”
On a normal day, I might be bothered to think about what she just said, but today, I only give her a noncommittal nod.
Hours later, after everyone has eaten and the house is quiet, I still can’t sleep. The four walls of my room feel like they're closing down on me. Without thinking, I search my suitcase for my burner phone, before slipping outside my room and out of the back door of the house.
The fresh smell of flowers in the garden does nothing to soothe me. I shiver from the night breeze as I dial the only number on the small phone.
He answers on the first ring.
“Maximo,” I breathe, stepping into the night, further away from the house. The security lights illuminate the entire compound, but I find a dark corner beside one of the shrubs in the garden.
“Lorena?” His surprise is evident in his voice.
He should be. We are not supposed to call each other.
“It’s past 10 pm. Why are you calling at this time?” he asks. But before I can answer, he chuckles deeply. “Wait. Is this a booty call?” He drawls in a seductive purr. “Are you unable to function properly because you need to be fucked? Because I can’t. That night at the alley…”
“Maximo, this isn’t about sex,” I bite out.
On a normal day, I would have laughed at his joke. But today isn’t a normal day.
Sensing my panicked tone, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I think someone has found me. Someone is watching me. I know it, I can feel it…”
“Hey, baby. Calm down, okay?” he says in a soft voice. “Take deep breaths first, and then tell me what happened.”
I do what he says, even though it’s almost impossible for me to stay calm.
“I felt someone watching me today at the mall. I didn’t see anyone when I looked around, but I was almost certain that someone was watching me,” I say in a shaky voice.
He remains silent as I continue.
“When I came back to the mansion, I shot some cooking video content for my page. The moment I posted my video, I received a comment,” I trail off.
“Deep breaths,” he whispers over the line. I do as he says, before telling him the content of the comment I received.
“What if he finally found me?”
“He won’t find you,” Maximo says in a firm voice. “He doesn’t know where you are. I don’t even think he cares that much.”
I scoff bitterly. “I’ve seen how determined he can be when he wants to find something. He doesn’t just give up in the middle of a search, even if he might no longer care about it. This man is dangerous, Maximo. I’m scared,” I admit shakily.
“Listen to me, Lorena. He cannot find you, okay? I erased your former identity. You are a new person now, and you are miles away from him,” he says in a soothing voice.
I want to believe him, but I can’t.
“And the comment? The person following me?”
“I will look into it, okay? Just trust me,” he says reassuringly.
I exhale a deep breath. I knew that talking to Maximo would make me feel better. He always has a solution to every problem.
If things were different, or maybe in another life, Maximo would be the perfect guy for me. Even before we started hooking up a few years after I ran away, we were friends. I like his company, and the sex with him is great as well.
He is a genuinely good person, and when I am with him, it just feels natural. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing.
When I’m around him, I don’t feel fireworks or sparks—no fluttering butterflies or tension. He doesn’t consume my mind and thoughts the way a certain person does.
And even now, when there’s imminent danger, my mind still finds a way to bring him up—the man who has held my mind captive, with a grip that shows no signs of loosening.