Chapter Twenty-Two LEO #2
“You miserable son of a bitch,” he rasped, trying to push himself upright in the hospital bed. The movement triggered another violent spasm through his body. His hands clawed at the blankets while the monitor beside him shrieked faster. “You came here to torture me.”
“No,” I said calmly. “I came here hoping you’d give me a reason not to let you die.”
“You think you’re some fucking hero now?” he snarled. His nostrils flared. “You poisoned me. You destroyed my family.”
I looked at him for a long moment. Then laughed quietly.
“Destroyed your family?” I repeated. “Interesting choice of words coming from the man who treated his daughters like livestock.”
“Careful.”
“No,” I said coldly. “You be careful.”
The room seemed to darken around us. Rain lashed violently against the windows now, lightning flickering somewhere deep inside the clouds over the city. Lorenzo looked smaller every minute. Sicker. The poison was chewing through him beautifully tonight. And still he thought he deserved power.
“You beat Chiara bloody because she got bitten by a snake,” I said. “You made her kneel in front of her siblings like an animal.”
His expression hardened. “Discipline.”
“She was terrified,” I reminded him.
“She disobeyed me.”
“She was eighteen,” I said.
“She was old enough,” he shrugged. “Mine to do with as I please.”
The words cracked through the room. Mine. I went still. Funny. I used the exact same language about her. But hearing it come from him made something sick crawl beneath my skin. Lorenzo noticed the shift in my face and smiled weakly through the pain.
“Finally,” he whispered. “Now you understand.”
“No,” I said quietly. “I understand that you never deserved them.”
His eyes flashed viciously. “You know nothing about raising children.”
“I know enough to recognize abuse when I see it,” I spat out.
Lorenzo barked out another ugly laugh.
“Abuse?” He shook his head weakly. “You soft fucking idiot. You think the world cares about gentle girls and sensitive boys? Men like us survive because we harden them young.”
“You didn’t harden them,” I snapped. “You terrified them.”
“They obeyed me, didn’t they?” he fought back.
“They feared you.”
“That’s the same thing,” he said with a vicious smile.
“No,” I said flatly. “It isn’t.”
The words hung heavily between us. The monitors continued their relentless beeping while rain rolled down the windows in crooked silver rivers. Lorenzo shifted again, breathing harder now.
“You really think they’ll thank you?” he demanded bitterly. “Chiara will hate you eventually too. Just like her mother did. Women always hate men who own them.”
Own them. Again. My jaw tightened painfully.
“You don’t even hear yourself, do you?” I asked quietly.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You talk about your children like assets on a balance sheet,” I said.
“They are assets,” he replied.
“They’re human beings.” I couldn’t take this conversation anymore. “Unlike you.”
“Human beings are useful.” He smirked. “Useful for monsters like us.”
Something inside me snapped cold. I crossed the room slowly until I stood beside his bed. Towering over him. Lorenzo still tried to glare at me like we were equals. Pathetic.
“Aurora isn’t useful,” I said softly. “She’s angry because she spent her life trying to protect everyone while nobody protected her.”
His jaw clenched, but I continued. “Sienna isn’t useful. She’s a child.”
“She’ll grow up fast enough.”
“She still sleeps with stuffed animals,” I told him. He looked irritated by the statement.
“And Matteo,” I continued, rage building hotter beneath every word, “isn’t weak because he reads books. He’s smarter than you already.”
Lorenzo sneered. “He’ll never survive this world.”
“Maybe that’s because this world is full of men like you,” I said.
The monitor accelerated again. Pain twisted visibly through Lorenzo’s body now. Sweat soaked through his robe completely. His fingers trembled violently against the blankets. Good.
“You wretched bastard,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You think you’re different? You threatened my daughter. You trapped her. You forced her into your bed.”
My expression darkened. “I never touched Chiara without her wanting me to.”
The old man laughed bitterly. “That girl doesn’t know what she wants.”
My vision went black for half a second. I leaned down slowly until we were eye level. “Watch how you speak about my wife.”
Lorenzo stared back at me stubbornly despite the agony breaking him apart piece by piece. Then he smiled. A disgusting, knowing smile.
“She already hates you,” he whispered. The words landed harder than they should have. Because part of me feared he was right. Chiara looked at me like I was the villain in every story she’d ever been told. Maybe I was. But I still wasn’t him.
“She cries when you touch her,” Lorenzo continued viciously. “I know girls like her. Sensitive little things. You’ll ruin her eventually.”
I straightened abruptly before I wrapped my hands around his throat.
“She’s already survived one monster,” I said coldly. “She’ll survive me too.”
For the first time all night… Lorenzo looked uncertain. I reached down and placed the antidote vial carefully on the floor, just out of his reach. His eyes locked onto it. Hope surged across his ruined face so quickly it almost looked painful. Then I stepped back.
And crushed the vial beneath my heel. Glass cracked sharply across the hospital floor. The clear liquid spread across white marble tiles. Lorenzo made a horrible sound. Not anger. Desperation.
“No,” he rasped. I stared down at the shattered antidote.
“You had daughters who still loved you after everything,” I said quietly. “Do you understand how rare that is?”
His breathing turned ragged. “You had children who would’ve forgiven you forever.”
“Signore Moretti,” he rasped, desperate. “Please…”
“But instead of loving them back…” My voice hardened. “You planned to sell them piece by piece to monsters.”
Lightning flashed outside the windows. The entire room flickered white for one violent second. When darkness settled again, Lorenzo looked terrified. Not of dying. Of losing control.
“Your family,” I said coldly, “will be safer once you’re dead.”
Hatred twisted his face. “You don’t get to decide what happens to my children.”
“I already did,” I reminded him. His expression faltered. I pulled my phone from my pocket without breaking eye contact.
Lorenzo’s breathing sharpened. “What are you doing?”
I hit call. One ring. “Sergio.”
“Boss.”
“Get men to the Ventura estate,” I instructed.
Lorenzo went rigid in the hospital bed. “You touch my children and I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” I asked calmly. “Die angrily?”
Rage exploded across his face. I continued speaking into the phone. “I want Aurora, Matteo, and Sienna removed tonight.
Lorenzo tried to sit up so violently the heart monitor screamed. “No!”
“Use the west entrance,” I continued coolly. “Minimal staff interaction. Quiet extraction.”
“You son of a bitch!” he cried out. I ignored him.
“Bring them to the Silverlake property.” Sergio understood. The safe house. Hidden. Guarded. Untouchable.
“And Lorenzo’s staff?” Sergio asked.
“Anyone loyal to Ventura gets removed,” I said plainly. Lorenzo looked genuinely panicked now. Good.
“You can’t do this!” he roared weakly. “They belong to me!”
The word echoed violently through the room. Belong. I slowly looked back at him. And understood why Chiara flinched every time a man tried to control her.
“They were never yours,” I said quietly.
Then I ended the call. Lorenzo’s chest heaved violently while fury and fear battled across his face. The poison was accelerating faster now under the stress. Sweat rolled down his temples. His hands shook uncontrollably.
“You think they’ll love you for this?” he rasped.
No. Probably not. Chiara would likely hate me even more once she discovered what I’d done. But hatred was survivable. Edoardo Moretti wasn’t. Neither were the bratva. Neither was Lorenzo Ventura.
“I don’t need them to love me,” I said. “I need them to forget you ever existed.”
By the time I got back to the tower, the city looked drowned. Rain hammered the streets hard enough to blur headlights into smeared ribbons of gold and white beneath the black sky. Water raced down the windows of the Rolls-Royce while traffic crawled below like something exhausted and dying.
The city looked ugly tonight. Or maybe I did.
I loosened my tie slightly as the driver pulled beneath the private entrance of my building. The marble awning overhead reflected silver from the storm while bodyguards stationed outside straightened when they saw me.
“Boss.”
I barely acknowledged them. My mind was still trapped inside that hospital room with Lorenzo Ventura. With his words.
She’s already terrified of you.
The elevator swallowed me whole moments later.
Quiet jazz drifted softly through hidden speakers while mirrored walls reflected my own exhausted face back at me from every angle.
Dark suit. Wet hair. Tattooed hands still streaked faintly with blood from smashing the antidote beneath my heel. Monster. Funny.
Chiara’s voice haunted me even when she wasn’t there.
The elevator climbed silently toward the penthouse while I stared at my reflection and thought about the way she looked in silk sheets. Angry even half asleep. Beautiful even while glaring at me like she wanted to put a knife through my throat.
A strange ache settled low in my chest. I’d left the hospital furious. Now all I wanted was to see her. Maybe she’d still be awake. Curled in one of the oversized armchairs pretending to read while secretly waiting for me to come home.
Or pacing barefoot through the penthouse in one of the silk robes my staff left for her, furious and restless and plotting escape routes she wasn’t clever enough to pull off yet. The thought almost made me smile. Almost.