Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven
LORENZO
The expression I caught on Liora’s face just now still haunts me.
After I unexpectedly walked in on her in the living room with Carmen by my side, Liora appeared frozen — but that ice of shock easily shattered shortly after she regarded me, barely, then turned on her heel and left nonchalantly.
She didn’t say a word to me. Nor did she express any enthusiasm about seeing me again after three solid days.
I could understand the reason for the latter, given the recent circumstances. Of course, she isn’t pleased to see me. She doesn’t want to be here. She hates my guts and believes I locked her up against her will — sees me as nothing more than her captor.
But then again, we’re married. I’m her legal husband now. The sooner she comes to accept that I’m not letting her go — not now, not ever — the better.
Still, her silence, her not saying a word — not even a simple hi, makes my chest constrict.
It only showed me she didn’t care enough about my presence or return either. I don’t know why that gets to me — but it does. To my fucking surprise.
Because I don’t care about her either. I married her for one reason only; so she could give me the biological heirs I desperately wanted.
That was the original agreement I made with her father. He assured me Liora would be the perfect candidate to make my wife — more like the perfect candidate to clear the debts he owed me.
But who gives a fuck about that?
Not me.
I’ve already married her. But something still plagues my mind.
I don’t think my wife knows about the agreement I made with her father. Because if she did, she wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass as she is now, would she?
The other day, she claimed she wasn’t the bride I was supposed to marry. I still don’t understand what she meant by that.
But honestly, I don’t care to know. I want her. I have her. I’m not letting her go.
The other day, she requested an annulment, and I refused it so blatantly that she ended up sobbing. She wants to get away from me so badly, huh? Too bad she can’t.
I suspect the reason she wants to leave is because of the particular rumor that’s been circulating about me and has stained my reputation over the last few years.
The one where everyone believes I murdered Lia — my ex-wife — in cold blood.
Even though that’s not true, I never once came out publicly to clear the air about what actually happened. So, technically, I’ve been misleading everyone to believe I’m a murderer.
Well, I am a murderer — a cold-blooded killer in the making — but I didn’t kill Lia. I could never have done that.
I loved her.
She was my everything—
“Is that her?” Carmen’s enthusiastic voice pulls me from my head, prompting me to glance at her.
She’s still smiling genially, her eyes fixed on the kitchen — where Liora just disappeared into.
“Yeah,” I reply, knowing she’s referring to Liora, the woman I married a few days ago.
Carmen didn’t get the chance to attend the wedding since it was impromptu, and she also had something to take care of for me in Russia that day.
Nonetheless, she’s been pestering me with her eagerness to meet my new wife. Since It’s not something anyone would have predicted would happen anytime soon — at least not with me.
My sister was the happiest when she found out I got married again. No surprise there.
After what happened with Lia, I vowed never to be with another woman.
Because it’s dangerous.
Being the wife of a Mafia boss doesn’t exactly come with easy perks. I have enemies who are always out to destroy me. And once they get a hold of my loved ones, they send me a message through their deaths.
That’s how it works in our world — bloodshed on the innocent.
Exactly what happened with Lia.
She was my weakness. Everyone knew that. So they went after her since they couldn’t get to me directly. No — they actually could, but they didn’t. They wanted me to suffer the trauma they inflicted.
And they succeeded.
Lia’s death affected me in ways I never thought were possible. Even to this day, I still struggle to cope with the fact that she’s gone forever.
Gone as in I’ll never get to see her laugh again. Or hear another one of her boring jokes.
They took her from me. All of her.
“My goodness, she’s beautiful,” Carmen says dreamily, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she turns to me. “How — where did you meet her again?”
“On the church altar.”
She frowns. “You didn’t date her?”
I huff and move away from her to the plush couch in the middle of the room. “Date her?”
Carmen’s inquiring like she isn’t aware how every girl in New York City avoids me like I’m the plague. Even my charm or charisma can’t save me from the dread they feel toward me. They all think I’m the devil. And no girl wants to meet a cruel fate like the one they believe happened with Lia.
“I don’t care, I don’t care,” she squeals. “I’m going to go have a chat with her.”
I quickly turn to her. “No.”
Her brows knit together. “No? Why no?”
“Not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
I sigh. “Carmen, don’t do it. At least not tonight. Just leave her be.”
“But I want to meet her. She’s my sister-in-law. What’s so wrong with wanting to meet my sister-in-law?”
Fed up, and knowing she won’t give up, I shrug. “Fine then. Have at it.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I’ll be right back.”
With that, she heads for the kitchen to meet Liora, her heels clicking across the floor as she scurries away.
I don’t know why the thought of my sister meeting Liora makes my heart clench — makes anxiety creep into my veins and threaten to stop my organs.
I don’t know what to anticipate.
But I know one thing for sure; Liora will likely be indifferent toward her. She’ll probably let Carmen know just how much she hates me and how trapped she feels.
Carmen wouldn’t care about that. She’s just thrilled her brother finally has a wife — even if said wife doesn’t feel the same way.
I shake off my thoughts and head to my room when I grow tired of waiting for Carmen’s return.
Whatever the outcome of her meeting with Liora, I’m sure she can handle it.
I stride into my massive bedroom and head over to the wardrobe to undress and change. Then I conceal my gun in one of the cupboards.
After that, I grab my phone and send a text to my assistant, informing him that I’ve returned from Russia with just four words: Successful. Now in New York.
I receive his quick response: Noted, Boss. Proceeding with the other arrangement.
Then I toss the phone back onto the table, exhaling slowly.
My thoughts gradually drift back to my sister, who still hasn’t returned from the kitchen.
I wonder what Carmen could possibly be discussing with her. She wouldn’t ask Liora if she likes it here now, would she?
Because the answer to that would be so fucking obvious.
I scoff to myself derisively.
Just then, a knock interrupts my thoughts.
“Enzo, open up. It’s me,” Carmen’s voice resonates.
“It’s unlocked,” I say simply, glancing toward the door.
She pushes it open and meets my inscrutable gaze. I want to immediately ask how the meeting went, but there’s no need to appear desperate.
She’ll tell me anyway.
As Carmen steps in, her unexpected question prickles under my skin. “Lorenzo, what did you do to young lady?”
Her smile is gone, replaced by a far less enthusiastic expression.
“What do you mean?” I clear my throat and retort.
She shrugs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you kidnapped her... Wait — did you?”
My heart feels like it’s been struck by a dozen needles of bewilderment.
Why the fuck is Carmen asking me this?