Chapter 81 Cold Blood and Ice Water

Chapter 81 Cold Blood and Ice Water
Lorenzo’s hands shook so hard he could barely hold his phone as Dorian’s voice still echoed in his ears. 

Two days. He had exactly forty-eight hours to fix a mess that was already spinning out of control. 

He stormed out of the bedroom, leaving Isabella bleeding on the floor, and headed straight for the private bar in the den. He grabbed a bottle of expensive vodka, ripped the seal off with his teeth, and took a long, burning swallow. 

"Damn it all!" he roared, slamming his free hand against the counter. 

He paced the length of the room as he took another gulp of the vodka, feeling the heat spread through his chest, but it didn't calm his mind. It only made his anger feel sharper. He pulled out his phone and dialed Bianca. 

"Dorian is going to kill me," he said the moment she picked up. "He said if the merger isn't signed and the key Isabella took isn't found in two days, I’m a dead man."

On the other end, Bianca went silent for a beat. "Lorenzo, breathe," she said, her voice cold and steady. "You’ve always known Dorian was using us. We are tools to him. One mistake doesn't mean a death sentence. You have to be smarter than him."

"Smarter?" Lorenzo laughed, a harsh, dry sound. "The Damianos won't sign. The stupid girl won't talk. And that fucking bodyguard is still breathing. Everything is falling apart, Bianca."

"Then stop sulking and start acting," Bianca snapped at him. "You need to finish Alexander. He is the biggest loose end. Luca is already asking questions about the merger. If Alexander talks, or if Isabella finds a way to reach her brother, we are done. Eliminate him, Lorenzo. Do it now. Once he’s gone, Isabella will break, and she’ll give you the key."

"And the merger?"

"I’ll handle Luca," she said. "Just clean up your side of the street. I have to go. I hear his car in the driveway."


Luca stepped into the bedroom, his face blank. Inside, his heart was filled with rage, but he couldn't let Bianca see a single spark of it. He had just held Valeria in his arms. He knew the truth now that every look Bianca gave him, every touch, was a lie.

Bianca quickly shoved her phone under a pillow and turned to him, her hand resting on her stomach. 

"Where have you been?" she complained, her voice high and grating. "I’ve been sitting here for hours, Luca. The baby is giving me a hard time today. My back hurts, and I don't feel well at all."

Luca didn't say a word. He didn't even look at her. He walked past her, kicked off his shoes, and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy duvet over his head, burying himself in the darkness.

Bianca froze. She stood by the bedside, her mouth hanging open. "Luca? Did you hear me? I said I’m in pain. I expected you to be by my side when you got back, but you just disappeared without saying where you were going."

There was total silence from Luca. He didn’t move from under the duvet.

"Fine!" she yelled, stomping her foot. "Ignore me. See if I care. I’m going to tell your father everything in the morning. I’ll tell Salvatore how you treat your pregnant wife. I’ll tell him you don't care about the Damiano heir!"

Luca turned slightly, his voice muffled by the duvet. "Turn off the bedside lamp when you’re ready to sleep, Bianca. I’m tired."

Bianca stayed rooted to the spot. She felt a shiver of genuine fear crawl down her spine. This wasn't the Luca she knew. He wasn't arguing or apologizing. He was treating her like she didn't exist. 

Does he know? She wondered, her mind racing. No, he can't. Maybe he’s just stressed about the merger.

She reached out and turned off the lamp, the room falling into a total blackness.

The warehouse smelled of old grease and wet concrete. Lorenzo slammed the metal door shut behind him, the sound ringing through the space. 

In the center of the room, Alexander was curled on the floor, his wrists raw from the ropes, and his eyes swollen nearly shut. Next to him, his mother sat in a wooden chair, her hands tied behind her back, shivering so hard the chair rattled against the floor.

"Please," Alexander rasped the moment he saw Lorenzo. He tried to sit up, but his muscles failed him. "Please... have mercy. My mother... she hasn't done anything. She’s sick, Lorenzo. Take it out on me. Just let her go home."

Lorenzo walked over, his boots clicking slowly on the concrete. He looked down at them with eyes that held no light. He felt the vodka buzzing in his brain, making the world look sharp and ugly.

"Mercy is for people who follow the rules, Alexander," he answered him. He turned to Marco. "Bring the bucket. The one with the ice."

Alexander’s eyes went wide. "No! No, please! Don't do that to her! She can't handle it!"

Marco returned with a large plastic bucket filled with water and half-melted chunks of ice. 

Lorenzo stepped over Alexander and grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look up. "I’m going to ask you once. Where is the key to the secret room? Did Isabella give it to you?"

Alexander looked confused, his brow furrowed through the bruises. "Secret room? What... what secret room? I don't know what you’re talking about, Lorenzo. I swear."

Lorenzo let go of his chin and looked at Marco. He began to laugh. It was a loud, hollow sound that made the hair on the back of Alexander’s neck stand up. 

"Did you hear that, Marco?" Lorenzo asked. "I asked the bastard a question, and the bastard asked me one back. He thinks he’s playing a game."

Marco and the other guards joined in, their laughter echoing off the high ceiling. 

"It’s not a game, Alex," Lorenzo said, his voice suddenly dropping to a whisper. "It’s a funeral."

He nodded to the guard holding the bucket. "Do it."

"No! Stop!" Alexander screamed. He threw his body forward, trying to break his chains, but the metal only bit deeper into his skin. "Please! Don't!"

The guard stepped behind his mother. She looked up, her nose bleeding as the freezing water poured on her.

She let out a sharp, choked gasp, her body jerking violently against the chair. She began to cough and wheeze, her lungs struggling to breathe. 

"Mama!" Alexander wailed, his voice breaking, turning into a sob. He thrashed on the floor, his face pressed against the cold concrete as he watched his mother shiver and turn blue under the dim yellow lights.

Lorenzo stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, as he watched the old woman gasp for air and Alexander fall apart. He felt satisfied. 

"Two days, Alexander," Lorenzo said over the sound of Alexander’s mother’s chattering teeth. "In two days, if I don't have that key, I’m going to let you watch her take her very last breath."

He turned and walked toward the door, leaving the sound of Alexander’s screams to fill the room.