Chapter 46 Lorenzo
I ’ve fallen back into old habits. I practically live at Vortex now, gambling my money away like it’s nothing and drinking whiskey like it’s water. But none of it helps. The more I drink, hoping to forget her, the clearer she becomes—those blue eyes I fell for haunting me every time I close mine. The thrill of gambling, the hope that winning will bring some rush, brings me absolutely nothing. I can’t even look at my damn Ace tattoo without thinking of her and that stupid nickname I learned to love a little too much. I don’t even bother looking at other women. There’s no point. None of them are her.
The article’s still generating buzz, but I’ve tuned it all out. The board’s pleased with the attention the club’s gotten because of it, and they want me to do more interviews to gain even more exposure. Over my dead fucking body will I be doing any of that.
I haven’t been in a kitchen since… Hell, I don’t even know. Something that’s usually my safe space and heaven is now hard to do.
I made a mistake. A colossal one, and I know it. I’ve had plenty of time to sit with it. I’m still angry—hurt, really—that she wrote that article. But I’ve had to accept she was just doing her job.
It doesn’t change anything, though. Even though it hurts to breathe knowing I’ll never hold her again, never dance with her in the rain, never keep learning about and falling for her with every conversation, I made the right choice. Maybe now she’ll find someone good. An honest man who doesn’t carry all the burdens and scars I do. Someone who can love her the way she deserves.
But the thought of another man doing everything I wanted to do for her? It makes me want to put my fist through a wall. Still, I can’t let myself think about it. I made my decision when I spoke to her the way I did. I’ve made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.
The elevator of my condo dings, but I barely register it, too lost in thought, staring at the untouched glass of whiskey in front of me. My finger traces the rim absentmindedly as I stew in my misery. Self-pity is all I seem capable of these days.
Matteo strides into the kitchen, taking in the scene—me slumped against the island, staring at nothing. “Oh, so you’re alive. Good.”
“I should’ve told the concierge not to let anyone up here,” I mutter, grabbing the glass and downing it in one go. I reach for the bottle to pour another but decide to skip the formality, drinking straight from it instead.
Matteo doesn’t waste a second. He crosses the room and snatches the bottle from my hand. “When was the last time you ate? Or showered? You smell like a fucking distillery.”
“None of your business. Leave me the hell alone.” I lunge for the bottle, but he dodges me and dumps the liquid down the drain .
“What the hell, Carter? That bottle costs two hundred grand!”
Matteo tosses the empty bottle into the trash with a bored expression. “That’s like a dollar in your world.”
I groan, dragging my hands through my hair, fisting it in frustration. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for...” Matteo pretends to ponder, tapping his chin. “Like a week now.”
I shoot him a glare. “I didn’t want to be found.”
“I can see that.”
I slump back in a chair, refusing to meet his gaze. There’s a reason I’ve been staying away from everything—and everyone. I’m a complete pain in the ass right now, weighed down by every bad decision I’ve made. Not just this summer, but my whole damn life. That article put a lot of things into perspective for me, so I guess something good came out of it, after all.
He sighs, sitting next to me. “She didn’t write the article, you know.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter anymore.” It’s the truth. I don’t care. I just miss her so much it’s unbearable.
“So, you’re going to what? Feel sorry for yourself the rest of your life?”
“I really thought you’d become less of a pain in my ass now that you’re married to a woman who hates your guts,” I quip dryly, trying to deflect. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact he and Isabella got hitched.
He ignores my jab and presses on. “Max wrote the article. Sophia threatened him—said she’d go to the VP with all the proof that she’s been doing his job for the past few years.” He pauses, waiting for me to react. When I don’t, he keeps going. “I’m risking a lot by telling you this. If Isabella finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He shakes his head. “But...”
I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “But what?”
“Sophia’s moving back to Kentucky. She’s leaving tomorrow.”
My heart plummets like a stone dropping into cold water. Moving? No. She loves this city. She wouldn’t do that.
“After what Max pulled, she handed in her resignation, and now she’s packed and ready to leave.” Matteo leans closer, his voice firm. “You need to get your shit together and figure out how you’re going to get her back.”
“I’m not,” I rasp, the words barely leaving my mouth.
Matteo grips my shoulder, his expression hardening as he looks me dead in the eyes. “You’re a lot of things, Mancini, but a coward isn’t one of them. You need to get her back. Ivy was right, you know? You need to stop believing you’re not worthy of anything. That’s a lie. You know that, man.”
His words hit me harder than I’d like to admit. When you grow up without guidance, without knowing what true love looks like, it’s hard to feel like you’re deserving of it. It’s something my mind simply can’t wrap around.
Matteo stands, shooting me a pointed glare. “This is in your hands now,” he says, his voice firm and final before he walks away, leaving me alone in the quiet of my apartment.
I clench my jaw, fighting the war raging inside. My heart screams at me to go after her, to fix everything, but my head keeps reminding me I’m not enough. Not for her, not for anyone. I’ve always believed that. Maybe I’ve spent too long living in the shadow of who I think I should be, instead of letting myself be the man I want to be. I’ve spent all my life running without knowing where I’m going to end up .
But what if, after all the running, this is the destiny I never saw coming?
I’ve sat through board meetings that would break most men, made decisions that have altered people’s life, but nothing compares to the anxiety gnawing at me as I stand outside Sophia’s door. My hand hovers over the wood, my chest tight as I wrestle with whether or not I should even be here. What if she slams the door in my face?
What if she doesn’t?
“Come on, Lorenzo,” I mutter under my breath, urging myself to knock before my courage slips away. My fist makes contact with the door, and the longer the silence stretches, the more I regret everything. I didn’t come with some grand plan, or even a good excuse. I just know I can’t let her leave. Not like this. The thought of her disappearing from my life for good is unbearable.
She opens her door, and my breath catches at the sight of her. She looks…even more beautiful than I remember. Her hair is in a messy bun with the few loose strands that I know she hates but I think make her look devastatingly beautiful. She’s wrapped in a cozy sweater, even though it’s the middle of summer, and fuzzy socks peek out from beneath her sweatpants. It’s so her—every detail, down to how she crosses her arms and lifts her chin as if trying to keep the world from seeing what she’s feeling.
Everything I attempted—and miserably failed—to rehearse in my head vanishes, and all I can do is stand there, drinking in the sight of her. Just being near her brings me peace and a sort of comfort I haven’t felt in God knows how long. But I know this calm is fragile. I’m standing on the edge of something, and I’m terrified of what comes next.
“Sophia,” I finally manage, my voice low. “Can we talk?”
“We’ve already said everything we needed to say, Lorenzo.” Her voice is steady as she reaches to close the door, but I stop it with my foot.
“Please.” My voice cracks. “Give me five minutes.”
She exhales, steps out, and crosses her arms. “Fine. Let’s talk out here.”
“Matteo told me the truth. About the article, and why Max did what he did.”
“And?” she replies flatly.
“I came to…” I hesitate, rubbing the back of my neck, searching for the right words. “Apologize. I didn’t let you explain. I shut you out, and you didn’t deserve that.”
“You’re right. I didn’t,” she replies, her tone cold. Her walls are up, and I feel the distance between us like a physical barrier.
I nod, swallowing hard as I struggle to find the right words. “I messed up, Sophia. I was hurt, but that’s no excuse. I should’ve listened to you, trusted you, instead of jumping to conclusions.” My voice falters as I admit it out loud, the guilt heavy in my chest.
She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “So, now you want what? Forgiveness? Is that why you’re here?”
“No,” I blurt out, shaking my head quickly as desperation seeps into my voice. “I just—I couldn’t let you leave without telling you.” I grimace. “I know you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Is that it?”
Her tone feels like a punch to the gut. No, that’s not it , is what I want to say, but the words get stuck in my throat. I want to get on my knees, beg her to give me another chance. “I miss you, Blue,” I manage to whisper.
For a moment, I think I see something in her eyes, a crack in her defenses, but then she shakes her head and steps back. “This doesn’t change anything. I’m still leaving.”
Panic claws at my chest, but I fight to keep calm. “I’m not asking you to stay, Sophia. I know you have responsibilities, your mom needs you. I’d never stand in the way of that.”
She exhales slowly, her gaze drifting as though she’s holding herself together. “I miss you, too,” she says softly, her voice laced with exhaustion. “But you hurt me. You made me fall in love with you, only to take my heart and stomp on it, knowing full well there was a reason I never let anyone in.” Her voice quivers at the end, and her words are like a sharp knife wounding my already fragile heart.
You made me fall in love with you.
Knowing this makes everything so much worse, and so much painful. Knowing we both fell hard, and fast, and I just…destroyed it all. The only good thing I had going for me.
Before I can reply, she turns and opens the door, and my body tenses, bracing for the blow I know is coming. “Have a nice life.” She walks inside and shuts the door, leaving me standing in the hallway, heart in my hands, knowing I’ve lost the love of my life.