Chapter 34
LILY
So many people come to offer their condolences.
I stand by my mother’s side as she quietly thanks each and every one of them.
For the last week, she’s faded in and out of a numb type of mourning.
Sometimes, when I go to knock on her bedroom door, I open it to reveal her asleep in her bed.
Other times, she walks around the house and through her garden as if nothing had happened at all.
I’ve stayed at our family estate since my father’s death, sleeping in my childhood room. Although the monster himself is gone, the haunting memories remain.
My brother has remained at the estate as well, but he often doesn’t come home until late into the night, sometimes even in the early hours of the morning.
I suppose we’re all mourning differently.
However, I’m less focused on the man in the casket than I am on my mother.
I look to my left, where Sky stands to the side of the crowd, appearing like an idle bystander.
However, I notice his sharp attention every time someone offers me their hand in condolence.
He’s been watching over me in Lorenzo’s stead.
I haven’t seen or heard from Lorenzo since I left his house the morning after he killed my father.
I spot Ara amongst the crowd of mourners and squeeze my mother’s hand before walking toward my friends.
With everything that’s been happening, I’ve barely been able to talk with them.
Sienna and Romi offer small, sad smiles, and Ara stands a few feet away, as if unsure if she’s welcome.
She most likely feels somewhat responsible for the incident with my father because she undoubtedly knows it was Lorenzo’s doing.
I’ve received countless calls from her, but I haven't answered or returned any of them, just needing time for myself.
Romi pulls me in for a hug first. “I’m sorry.”
I’m not.
It’s a cold response that I’d never say out loud, but since my father’s death, I haven’t felt anything for him. I hate to admit it—this part of me that feels such freedom because of it. I’ve had some time to slowly process that, and although I know it's an ugly truth, it’s my ugly truth.
“Thank you,” I say as Sienna pulls me into a hug.
“Whatever you need, let us know. You know we’re always here for you, girl,” Sienna says sympathetically.
“I know.” I rub her arm and then come face-to-face with Ara, who looks as if she doesn’t know what to do or say.
I embrace her, and slowly her arms wrap around me. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you back,” I whisper. “It’s just been a lot.”
When I pull back, she offers a small smile and a nod. “Let’s make some time this week. I want you to depend on me.”
I look past the crowd and see a sizable man standing on the hilltop, peering down on us. I know without a doubt it’s Lorenzo, watching from a distance.
My stomach curls with yearning, hate, and pain. Because through it all—with all the uncertainty of what’s to come—my mind continues to circle back to him. Whether I treated him unfairly, whether I was in the right, whether I still care, when logically I should know better.
Ara follows my gaze, and when she looks back at me, it’s with sympathy.
I’m sick of seeing that pitying expression as everyone tells me how much of a "good man" my father was, although this time, it’s for an entirely different reason.
I go through the motions, following my mother and supporting her as best I can all the way until we’re home and I’m tucking her into bed.
“Let me know when you’re ready to talk, Mom,” I say, kissing her forehead.
I’ve seen her mentally and physically beaten so many times that the habitual desire to protect her remains.
Now I’m certain that if I simply give it more time, I can convince her to choose a better path—to finally focus on herself.
We’re just not there yet. Where my shackles have freed me to a degree, hers seem to have turned her into an empty shell, and I hope the spark that was once inside of her returns soon.
I close the door behind me as I leave her bedroom and then walk down the stairs. I’m about to step outside into my mother’s garden when I notice the light coming from the family room. I haven’t been in there since Lorenzo gave my father that bloody beating.
The doors are already open, and when I curiously peek inside, I spot my brother taking a sip of his drink as he looks over some paperwork, his knee bouncing.
We haven’t had much time to talk, as I've been catering to my mother’s needs and he's dealt with the companies, public affairs, and statements.
Despite Lorenzo beating the shit out of my father, my mother and brother never blamed him for his death.
My father took a bad beating with a few stitches to the face, and they didn’t seem upset by articles announcing he’d gotten into some drunken fight.
The articles never mentioned Lorenzo, which I imagine might’ve been Luca’s doing.
And it was the doctor who confirmed it was alcohol poisoning that killed him in his sleep.
A glaring truth that they couldn’t argue, even though, for once, it wasn’t because of his alcohol consumption.
“Vince, are you okay?” I ask, and his leg comes to an immediate stop as he looks up.
“Yeah.” He clears his voice. “I just—” He looks at the paper and puts it down, but I know him better than that. I especially know when he’s trying to hide something. “I found something in Dad’s office. I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
How many more secrets are there to unearth in this home?
I step forward, no longer scared of the truth.
I told Vince I thought our father was in some financial hardship, and he said he’d look into it.
Hopefully, this might give us a lead. He hands me the paper, and my stomach twists into knots as I read the agreement.
“This can’t be serious,” I say in disbelief, staring at my father’s signature and a signature belonging to Mr. Timber. The agreement states that on the announcement of my engagement to Riley, and subsequent marriage, he’d offer my father a substantial loan of twenty million.
My brother's expression is grim. No wonder my father pressured me into the date with Riley. But to sell me off as a bargaining chip like this… I shouldn’t be surprised, but it doesn’t dull the sting.
“He never even viewed me as a daughter,” I state miserably as I sit beside my brother. I’d been clinging to some type of hope, anything that showed he might’ve still had a sliver of goodness remaining within his poisoned soul. But if he did, none of it was spared for me.
Vince offers me his glass. I take it and look into the depths of its amber coloring. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? This was what took him away, and yet, here we are, still drinking it.”
My brother doesn’t say anything to that, simply takes it back from me and swallows another harsh sip. It’s not until it's empty that he wipes his lips and says, “We’re nothing like him.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard a bitter edge in Vince’s tone when speaking about our father. I suppose we all had a strangled relationship with him, but Vince always acted so aloof and indifferent that I thought he wasn’t impacted by the same shackles I was.
“What ended up happening on that date with Riley Timber?” Vince asks curiously. Whatever my expression, the moment he looks into my eyes, he holds his hands up defensively. “Whoa, I’m not the enemy. It was just a question, Lily.”
I shake my head, feeling like I’m going crazy. He’s right; he’s not my father. But I can’t help feeling bitter toward him after his advice from that night. It felt like even Vince betrayed me.
“We just had different outlooks on life.” My eyebrows furrow as I think back to that night. Of course, I leave out the fact that Lorenzo plunged a fork into his hand. “That night, when I called you, you told me I should go, even when I told you I didn’t want to. Why?”
Although my brother didn't fall victim to my dad in the same way my mother and I did, I always believed he was on my side.
But he betrayed me, and I found comfort in what felt like the only person on my side: a killer.
Thinking of Lorenzo still hurts, like a vise around my chest, but he keeps appearing in my mind, every waking hour, and even the few hours I seem to get any sleep, Lorenzo Moretti haunts my dreams.
Vince rolls the empty glass between his hands. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
My mouth drops open. “Vince, it wasn’t my choice. That was the problem.”
“I know. I know. I just… Maybe he was trying to help as best as he could?”
I point to the agreement. “By selling me off?” I immediately shrink back into myself, staring at the doors, making sure no one else heard, as he brings his finger to his lips.
I put the paper down on the table in front of us. So many fucking secrets.
“He wasn’t a good man. I can’t believe he’d go to such lengths either,” he admits, disheartened and staring at the piece of paper between us.
“Why would he need a loan for twenty million dollars?” I question.
Vince bites the inside of his cheek, and I immediately realize he knows something that I don’t. “We’re in a lot of debt, Lils. The companies have been struggling for a few years now.” He rubs his eyes and hangs his head in his hands.
I feel the air rush out of my lungs. I’ve never cared to involve myself in my father's business, but to realize he’d use me as some bargaining tool, all because of his own downfalls?
“He was probably trying to get the money so we weren’t at risk of losing everything,” he continues.
“What do you mean? Can’t we use money from the businesses or try to sell or—”
“Don’t you think I’ve already tried those things?” he says defensively, then flinches under his own raised voice. His hand slides to mine. “I’m sorry. It’s been a hard few days. I’m looking into it. I’m just worried, that’s all. Do you have any money saved up?”
I look at him quizzically. Sure, I’ve saved a large amount of the monthly allowance I was given since I didn’t need it. I depended on the earnings from my shop. Yet I’m resistant to mention it since that has always been my backup plan. Something doesn’t feel right about this entire situation.
“It’s a mess. I don’t know what else to do,” he says, shoving his hands through his hair. “Can’t you ask your boyfriend for a loan or something?”
“He’s not my boyfriend, or did you miss the part where he beat the shit out of our father?”
Vince’s knee starts bouncing. “Yeah, well, he was just protecting you, right? He has more courage than I ever did. If anything, I’m envious of him. I wish I were the one who'd beaten the shit out of the old man.”
“Vince,” I whisper-shout, shocked by his confession. The bouncing of his leg stops, and he looks at me, as if remembering where he is.
“I’m sorry. I just… He wasn’t a good man, was he? And now I have to clean up this fucking mess. What if they take the house? What if they put Mom on the streets?”
I grab his forearm. “Look, we’ll figure this out, okay? Don’t you have any money? Maybe if we tell Mom about this, she—”
“We’re not telling Mom about this. Look at her. She’s hardly spoken or eaten in a week. We have to fix this.” He looks to me then, almost pleading, “We have to fix this family.”
Fix this family.
Something I’ve yearned for, for so many years, and now that it’s here, it feels almost too good to be true.
Maybe I hadn’t realized that I’d long given up on it.
Then again, I did finally decide I was ready to cut ties with my father.
But now that he’s gone, shouldn’t I give my everything for my mother and brother at the very least?
“I’ll give you some money. It’s only a few million. Can you get the rest to cover it? Maybe we can sell some of Dad’s car collection?”
Vince shakes his head approvingly. “We’ll make this work, Lils. We’ll create a new chapter for all of us.”
A new chapter.
I’ve prayed to hear those words for as long as I can remember, yet as of late, that new chapter had very little to do with my family and more to do with a man I put all my trust in, only to be betrayed. Maybe a reminder that blood runs thicker than water.
I push away the thought of telling my brother about recent events and confiding in him about the attempts on my life. It would only stress him out further, and right now, I want to believe we can fix this problem, especially for our mother's sake.
Because if I can't trust my brother, then who can I trust?