Like a punch in the face
Chapter 57
Sophia
Two days later, my aunt drags me along to the Calloway mansion for the final fitting. She needs to verify that the recent alterations to the family's wardrobe are absolutely perfect.
For the first time, I meet the infamous patriarch.
The exact second Mr. Calloway enters the grand room, the entire atmosphere violently shifts into a cold, suffocating, professional stillness.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the maids instantly straighten their posture, nervously tugging at their aprons.
Mrs. Calloway quickly scoops her young daughter onto her lap, pinning her down so the little girl won't run around and ruin her elegant dress.
The moment my eyes lock onto his, I instantly understand everything Lorenzo had told me about his father. There is no warmth in that man. None at all.
"My apologies for not attending any of the previous fittings," Mr. Calloway announces, greeting my aunt first.
He turns to me, taking my hand in a crushing grip. He smiles politely, but the expression is entirely deadpan, not reaching his eyes at all.
"And you must be the young lady my wife told me about. The one helping my son out."
He studies me with a calculating, razor-sharp gaze.
He adjusts the heavy cuffs of his suit before mindlessly tossing his jacket to his assistant, who stands rigidly by the door.
"A busy few months ahead," he continues, a specific, chilling edge in his voice that I can't quite decipher.
"Darling, the outfits look stunning," Mrs. Calloway chimes in, standing up while holding her daughter tightly.
"Where is Lorenzo?" he asks, completely ignoring his wife's compliment. The blunt dismissal makes my stomach twist with discomfort.
"In the pool house," she answers smoothly, a practiced, fake smile plastered onto her face.
"I must apologize for my son. He has completely lost his manners lately," Mr. Calloway says in his deep, rumbling voice. He turns his back to let my aunt inspect the fit of his shoulders.
"I'm right here."
Our heads snap toward the entrance at the exact same time.
Lorenzo steps into the room. He is dressed entirely in black, carrying his motorcycle helmet in his left hand. The air in the room instantly turns thick and unbreathable. The glares he and his father exchange are sharp enough to cut glass.
After a brutal, ringing silence, Lorenzo's dark gaze shifts, fixing entirely on me.
"Don't just stand in the doorway," his dad hisses, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitches. "Try on your suit."
"Already did," Lorenzo replies, his voice short and icy.
Before the situation can devolve into an absolute screaming match, I abruptly stand up. "We should check the last appointment downstairs," I blurt out.
Lorenzo's father gives a brief, tight nod. "Do that, then," he grunts, turning his attention back to the mirror.
Without another word, I grab Lorenzo by the arm and push him out of the room. I practically drag him down the expansive hallway until the heavy silence of the parlor is far behind us. I take a deep, shaky breath before looking up at him.
"Last appointment?" Lorenzo asks, raising a slow, dark eyebrow.
"Yes. I don't know, it just popped into my head," I admit, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.
He lets out a low grunt, walking into the massive kitchen and pulling a cold beer out of the sub-zero refrigerator.
"Don't flatter yourself," I say immediately, catching him staring at me over the rim of the glass bottle. "I only did it because I feel incredibly uncomfortable in there."
"Oh? So now you feel comfortable? " He sets his beer down on the marble counter, taking a slow step toward me "Just you and me? "
I instantly thrust my hand out, creating a physical barrier between us.
"That is not what I meant, Calloway."
"Relax," he murmurs, his chest brushing right past my fingertips.
Unsure of whether I should actually follow him, I find myself trailing behind his broad shoulders anyway.
We walk out into the sprawling backyard, heading straight down toward his private pool house. The second my feet cross the threshold, memories flash behind my eyes.
I instantly remember the first day I came here, the day I caught him making out with another girl.
"Come on in, Sophia. I'm not gonna bite," he huffs, noticing how much I've slowed my pace.
"It's you we are talking about," I hiss back, finally stepping inside.
My eyes go wide when he mindlessly pulls his black shirt over his head. It reveals a broad, flawlessly sculpted chest and a heavily muscled torso.
"What the hell are you doing?!" I shriek, violently spinning around to face the wall.
"Trying on the suit," he says, his voice entirely calm behind me.
"So you lied to your dad."
"Don't judge me. You just did the exact same thing in there."
I turn back around to argue, completely forgetting that he is standing right in front of me, dressed in nothing but his boxer shorts and a stark white, completely unbuttoned dress shirt.
A wave of heat rushes to my face. I find myself looking at him; he appears composed and striking. When he notices my gaze, a slow smile spreads across his lips, and he steps closer.
"Oh no. Not this time," I snap, quickly moving to the far corner of the room. I try to breathe evenly, watching him adjust his tailored suit pants. When he reaches for his shirt buttons, his right hand twitches, and a look of discomfort crosses his features.
"I thought your hand was already recovered," I say quietly, watching him struggle with the cuffs. "Did you get into another fight?" I narrow my eyes, stepping closer when I notice a mark on his knuckles.
"Just help me, will you."
"You want me to help you?" I ask as I close the distance between us.
"Okay, first of all, I am going to teach you some basic human manners," I say. "In my world, when you want help, you say please and thank you."I pronounce the wort to make sure his huge arrogant ego can take them out without exploding.
He stares at me for a beat. "Please," he grinds out.
"What was that? I cannot hear you," I tease.
"Don't push me, Miller," he says warnigly .
"Okay, okay. Small steps," I whisper, lifting my hands to help him fasten the buttons of his shirt.
The warmth of the room and the way he looks at me make me nervous. My fingertips brush the fabric of his shirt as I work. When the last button is done, neither of us moves away. We remain still in the quiet space.
"So tell me," Lorenzo breaks the silence, his voice dropping to a low register. "What does a person do when they want to apologize?"
"They say they are sorry," I answer.Watchig him nodd.
"Well, then... I am sorry." Hearing him say those words affects my concentration.
"Sorry for what, exactly?" I ask. The second the question leaves my mouth, I wonder if asking is a good idea.
"For this," he whispers.
And moves closer, his hand reaching toward me, and he leans in to place a firm kiss on my lips.
A rush of emotion follows.
Lorenzo continues the kiss with a deliberate intensity. I lose track of time, focused entirely on the moment. My hands rest against his chest, holding onto the fabric of his shirt as the space between us disappears.
And I let him
He exhales, a sound I feel clearly. His hand moves to my waist, holding me firmly against him. Our movements are synchronized. Lorenzo pulls back slightly, his breath hitching, before he continues to kiss my jawline and neck. I lean my head back as the intensity of the moment increases.
"Lorenzo," I whisper. He returns his mouth to mine, and the rest of the world fades away.
Every ounce of control we spend weeks building completely dissolves.
He doesn't just hold me; he pins me against the cold plaster of the wall, the sudden impact drawing a sharp gasp from my throat.
Before the sound can even leave my lips, he catches it with his mouth, kissing me with a ferocious intensity.
"We shouldn't be doing this," I whisper, entirely out of breath.
"I know," he agrees hoarsely and leans in to kiss me again.
And I let him.
His hands slide under my thighs, his fingers digging firmly into my skin as he hooks my legs around his waist, lifting my weight effortlessly.
I cling to him, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck, my fingers burying deep into his dark hair as he carries me away from the wall.
The room blurs until the back of my knees hits the heavy wooden frame of his bed.
I sink into the cushions, the mattress supporting us as the sheets meet my skin. But there is nothing cool about Lorenzo. He hovers directly over me, a solid wall of heat and muscle that pins me flat into the bedding.
And I let him .
The contrast is just so sharp the soft luxury of the bed beneath me, and the rigid power of the man above me.
And I let him.
"Are you sure about this ," he breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes lingering on my face, "If I start then ther is no truing back." His words tickle my skin, a tingling promise.
"I..." I start, but the words die in my throat.
The bedroom door flies open with a loud bang.
Shock jolts through me, and I bolt upright, accidentally slamming the top of my head hard against Lorenzo's jaw.
He lets out a sharp groan, the unexpected impact catching him completely off guard.
Panicking, I shove my hands against his bare chest, pushing him away.
Lorenzo loses his balance and crashes straight down onto the hard floor.
"Shit, stalker," Lorenzo wheezes from the ground, rubbing his jaw.
I instantly slap both hands over my mouth, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."
"Well, well, look at that," Ben's voice cuts through the room. He grins, while Alex crosses his arms, looking between us. "What a surprise."
Lorenzo pushes himself up from the floor, his eyes dark and dangerous. He is clearly pissed about the intrusion.
"So you proved it once again, Calloway," Ben laughs, stepping forward to clap his friend on the shoulder. Lorenzo violently shoves his hand away.
"Shut up," Lorenzo bites out, his gaze briefly snapping to me.
I scramble off the bed, my mind racing as a cold dread settles in my stomach. "What did he prove?"
"Nothing," Lorenzo cuts in instantly, his entire body tensing up.
But I choose to ignore him. "What is going on?" I ask again, my voice shaking as I stare at Ben and Alex. Both of them are wearing matching, arrogant grins.
"We made a bet that there was no way he could get you into bed," Ben laughs out loud, entirely amused.
"Not after the countless times you shot him those deadly stares," Alex chimed in.
The room starts to spin. I stop listening. A wave of humiliating heat rushes to my face, turning into a fierce anger.
"But her we are"
"Sophia, it's really not..." Lorenzo steps toward me, his hands raised, but his voice sounds miles away.
"No. Just... please save it."
I storm over to the drawer, snatch my phone, and bolt out of the room.
I throw the door shut behind me, the loud slam echoing like a gunshot.
Completely ignoring him shouting after me.
Shit ,shit and shit