Chapter 89: Chapter: 89

ANDREA

“What?! What did you say?!” I asked with wide eyes. His eyes glinted in that familiar way, and his beautiful bow-shaped lips twitched. He knows what being close to him is doing to me, how he'd always affected me. Jerk!

“I have good news for you,” he repeats.

Now, folding the sleeves of his large shirt draped on my small frame, it smells entirely of him; though it's clean, it still smells of musk and man. My ears twitch with curiosity and hope, my eyes widen as I stare into his deep blue eyes.

“Logan called, Alice is alive,” he added. I clutch both his hands with mine, as tears of relief welled in my eyes.

“She is?! Are you sure? How is she? Is she at the hospital or home? Please, Alessandro, I need to talk to her. I need to hear her voice and know that she's okay, please!” I begged, clinging to him.

His hands slid into my damp hair, finger-combing it, as he stared into my tear-filled eyes. “Relax, Andrea, she's still in the hospital. Logan would let me know when she's released, we'll know if you can talk to her then, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay, thank you. I really thought she was dead, Alessandro. I thought she'd died because of me.”

“Hush now, I know. I had Logan doing other equally important things, which was why he didn't get back to me sooner. Now come. There's somewhere we must go,” he said, guiding me out of the room after I slipped on the only flats that were meant for me. Okay, and where is this place? But before I could ask, my eyes fell on him—my guard.

Patrizio was in the hallway outside the room when we came out. His brows scrunched with questions; he looks like he wants to ask where we're going, but one glare from the man beside me, and he quickly backs out. It's clear he's intimidated and afraid of Alessandro and has decided against it.

The house looked like it did three days ago when I last saw it; the suits guarded everywhere, and I knew what they hid under their coats. Guns! They must be expecting an attack from their enemies at any given time; it's either that or Don Marchetti is an overly cautious or paranoid man.

My eyes went to Alessandro's waist, where his own gun is tucked into his pants.

How could carrying a gun around be as simple and natural as carrying a wallet? My feet halt on the last step of the stairs, recalling what that monster said. Instantly, Alessandro glanced back at me.

“What is it?”

“Did your grandfather know we're going out? I don't want him to shoot anyone because I went out with you, I don't want him to think I disobey him in any way,” I said, trying to mask the trembling in my voice.

I hated how scared I was of the man, but watching him coldly give the order to shoot Alice without an ounce of remorse had shown me how heartless he was, and I didn't want a repeat. I didn't want to give him any chance to hurt people I love again.

Alessandro gritted his teeth so hard, the only sign of his anger; it's the most emotion I've seen in him since three days ago. His large hand clamps my arm protectively, not hurting, but firm, his dark eyes locking onto mine with intensity.

“No, he doesn't, Andrea. He knows I'm not going to try to take you away, not because I didn't want to, but because you wouldn't let me. He was right. I don't care what happens to these people, whether they live or die. But I know what they mean to you and how their death would affect you. I won't hurt you in that way, and I wouldn't allow him to hurt you or our child. And that's what Don Marchetti is counting on,” he growled out.

Something flutters in my stomach. It's the first time he'd said anything about my pregnancy.

My eyes darted to the men down the stairs who were pretending they weren't secretly watching us. Still with his hand on me, which glided from my arm to the small of my back, we walked down the stairs.

I didn't know what to think. On one hand, Alessandro just told me he couldn't care less if my friends were murdered by his grandfather, though he knows they were innocent. But on the other hand, he'd also said he wouldn't let him hurt our baby or me.

That must count for something, for a man like Alessandro, that means a lot. It means he cares for me and that it wasn't just obsession and lust between us. It also means he likes the idea of becoming a father.

I was hurt and scared due to Alessandro's silence about my pregnancy. I felt hurt and confused, unsure if he truly wanted the baby or if I was just a distraction. But his words were the total opposite of what I expected.

My thoughts were all over the place as he guided me downstairs, where I was about to step through the door that would lead us outside the house, when Lorenzo's voice whipped out loudly, cutting short my musing.

“And where the hell are you taking our guest to Ombra?”

I was the only one who glanced back at Lorenzo; Alessandro completely ignored him. As if Lorenzo was beneath his notice, he only snagged my hand and dragged me out of the house when Lorenzo moved towards me. The guy either had a death wish or an order from the Don himself to not let me out of the house.

Because he followed, speaking to Alessandro in quick, rapid Italian, angrily. Alessandro didn't reply, though his face was in its usual emotionless state. I knew he must be irritated. One thing I know is that Alessandro doesn't like meddling.

He especially doesn't like Lorenzo questioning him about me. He walked me to a black SUV parked near a dozen or so luxurious cars. Outside, the sun was bright, the air humid. He opened the passenger front door for me to enter.

“Get in, Andrea.”

I rounded over to the passenger side and was about to get in, but before I could, Lorenzo suddenly grabbed my hand, stopping me.

“Just wait a minute, Bella,” I glanced at him, then to where Alessandro was, only he'd already moved. My mouth parted, but before I could say a word, Alessandro punched him straight in the nose.

The distinct crunch of cartilage was too loud in my ears. It also tells me he'd broken his nose, blood gushed out, trailing down his mouth, and when it touched his shirt, the place that was a white fabric suddenly turned into a big red splotch.

All the soldiers and the house staff who were outside the house, guarding, working, and whatnot, were suddenly watching and waiting with anticipation, while I stared in horror, wondering what Lorenzo must have already said to him to trigger this kind of reaction.

Because it can't possibly be because he touched me, right? That would be insane.

It seems Alessandro still wasn't done with him, because a moment later, he slammed Lorenzo.

Lorenzo glared at him with hate and pure rage and punched Alessandro back. Licked his split lip and yanked Lorenzo’s collar, bringing his face close to his. Glaring at him with cold, deadly eyes. I shiver from the intensity of those dark eyes. And thank God they weren't trained on me.

“Fucking stronzo!, Get this through your thick skull, little kid, I'm not here to measure dicks with you. You don't ever talk to me like that! You don't disrespect me or question me like I answer you. Because I don't. I answer to no one.”

Lorenzo snorted, and I could see how hard Alessandro had to control himself not to punch him again, he sighed.

“I understand you want to prove you're a hot shit now! But trying to mess with me is the wrong fucking move. I will fuck you up so bad, you will be shitting from the wrong orifice. And lastly, you most especially don't fucking touch what's mine ever! Capito?”

Each word uttered was cold. He was speaking calmly, he must have said something else, because the next thing I knew was Lorenzo's fist shooting out and punching him in the face. then he spat his bloody saliva on Alessandro's face.

“I’m also not the kid I was before, Cuz.”

Turns out crazy and violence is a blood trait in the Marchetti; Lorenzo was no weakling, only I wish he were. I wish he hadn't provoked the devil. Because when Alessandro grinned darkly. My heart sank with dread for the younger man.

My eyes go wide when Alessandro brings out his gun. His back was to me. I was suddenly afraid for Lorenzo; Alessandro looked like he wanted to kill him. His eyes glinted dangerously. But when he gave the gun to Lorenzo, I couldn't keep quiet.

“Uh, Alessandro? What are you doing?”

“Get inside the car, Andrea,” he says, taking a step back and wiping away the saliva on his cheek.

“Please, you…”

“Fucking get inside the car, woman!” he commands. I glared at the back of his head. Then opened the car door and hesitated, listening as Alessandro continued talking in that cold voice.

“You want to kill me, Enzo? I could see it in your eyes, you think you can if given the chance, idiota? Huh?! Here, this is it, I'm giving you the chance to take what you want! Kill me!”

Lorenzo smirked, all bloody teeth, “You think I won’t?”

He glared at him and gritted his teeth, his hand holding the gun steady against Alessandro's chest directly above his heart. Sweat ran down the length of my body in rivulets, fear for this man I love and hate made a bitter taste coat my tongue.

My unborn baby is going to lose their father before she even breathes the air. In my mind, it's clear Alessandro is crazy. Otherwise, who does this kind of thing, hand over a gun to a man who clearly wants you dead?

Lorenzo looked like he was about to pull the trigger and kill Alessandro there and then, but something or someone was stopping him.

Maybe he was afraid of his grandfather, speaking of the monster. I wonder where the old man was when his two grandsons were about to kill each other, or rather, one was about to kill the other.

Though I don't think Alessandro is stupid enough to let someone kill him with his own gun. Suddenly, it didn't matter what Lorenzo wanted anymore, because the gun was already in Alessandro's hand, who pointed it straight at Lorenzo's head.

“Stupido, I gave you a chance to do what you wanted, but you are too much of a coward to do it. What did I tell you? I fucking gave you a clear warning last time, and you fucking ignored it. Now face the consequences!”

Everything happens all at once: Alessandro firing his gun at Lorenzo's leg, the loud sound of a gunshot, and Lorenzo's grunt—piercing the air. I gasped. Beyond horrified to see Alessandro shoot his own cousin, as if that wasn't enough.

He slammed the butt of the gun on Lorenzo's head, knocking him out cold.

“Fucking idiot!” he muttered.

Then he spoke in Italian, addressing two of the guards watching with cautious eyes to take Lorenzo, who was unconscious on the ground, inside, and called the doctor. At least that's what I thought he said. I heard the word dottore.

They each drape their arms around their shoulders as they walk him inside the house. Another pulls out his phone and starts to make a call. I'm guessing he's calling the doctor as Alessandro ordered.