Chapter 173 *
Lorenzo’s POV
My throat closed up. My chest hurt. I couldn't breathe properly.
I wanted to say something. Anything. But what could I possibly say that would matter?
She was right. About everything.
I remembered the first time she'd walked into the Romano house. Six months ago. She'd been nervous but excited. Her eyes had been full of hope. Full of this desperate need to belong.
She'd tried so hard. Asked questions about the family business. Laughed at Dad's terrible jokes. Complimented Mom's cooking even though it was usually cold by the time it reached her plate at the far end of the table.
She'd been so goddamn polite. So careful. Trying to fit into a family that had already decided she didn't belong.
And we'd all just watched it happen.
I'd watched Nico insult her at his birthday party. Watched Zelda play the victim every time Scarlett tried to defend herself. Watched Mom choose her "perfect daughter" over her real one.
I'd told myself I was being fair. I was trying to see both sides. I was the reasonable one.
Bullshit.
I was a coward. I'd stood by and let them destroy her.
Then we'd told her she had to marry Adrian Santoro. A paralyzed stranger who'd probably make her life hell. All to save the family's reputation.
That had been the final straw. I could see it in her eyes when Dad announced it. The last bit of hope died right there in front of us.
She'd stopped trying after that. Stopped caring what any of us thought.
And now she was standing here telling me the truth I'd been too stupid to see.
She didn't need us. She didn't want us.
We'd had our chance and we'd blown it.
My phone was still in my hand. She was waiting for my answer. Damon's number was probably already pulled up on her screen.
"Okay." My voice came out rough. "I'll take you back."
I turned and walked to the car. Pulled open the driver's side door and got in.
The engine started with a roar that felt too loud in the silence.
Scarlett got in the passenger seat without a word. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling.
I backed out of the driveway and headed down the mountain road.
The fireworks sat abandoned in the overgrown grass behind us. All that planning. All that hope that maybe I could fix things.
The car filled with suffocating silence. I could feel it pressing down on my chest. Making it hard to breathe.
We'd been driving for maybe five minutes when I couldn't take it anymore.
I needed to try. One more time. Even if she shot me down again.
I took a deep breath. Tried to keep my voice casual.
"If you don't like fireworks, that's fine." I glanced at her. She was still looking at her phone. "What do you like? I can get it for you. Whatever it is."
"Nothing."
The word was flat. Emotionless. But she'd answered. That was something.
Most people would've taken that as a shutdown. A clear signal to stop talking.
I didn't.
Because the fact that she'd responded at all meant she wasn't completely done with me. If she really wanted me gone, she would've ignored me completely.
I had an opening. Small. But it was there.
I drove in silence for another minute. Let her think I'd dropped it.
Then I tried again.
"I know some people." I kept my tone careful. Testing. "They can get clean diamonds. No records. No traces."
She didn't respond.
"Sapphires? Emeralds?" I could hear myself getting desperate. "I can have someone bring a few stones by. You can pick whatever you want. It'll be completely yours. No strings attached."
Still nothing.
"Or pink diamonds. There's a guy at Tiffany who owes us a favor—"
"Pink diamonds?" She finally turned to look at me. "You think you can get your hands on that level of stone?"
The words gutted me.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.
She was right.
"I know I'm not Damon." The admission tasted bitter. "He controls the entire East Coast underground. I'm just..."
I couldn't finish the sentence.
"But you're my only sister." My voice dropped. "Your first birthday back with the family. I have to give you something."
"Don't bother."
She turned back to her phone.
I stared at the road ahead. My jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
"What about property?" I cleared my throat. Tried to sound casual. "I have an apartment in Manhattan. Three bedrooms. Good view. I can transfer it to your name."
I glanced at her again. She was still scrolling through her phone.
"Or if you want something in Brooklyn, I can get you a brownstone. Quieter neighborhood. More secure."
I meant it. Every word.
"Girls should have their own property." My voice got serious. "In your name only. Nothing to do with the Romano family."
"This business... you know how it is. You're here today, gone tomorrow. If something happens to the family. If you ever need to leave Damon. At least you'd have somewhere to go."
The words hung in the air between us.
She didn't respond. Didn't even look up from her phone.
But I saw her thumb stop scrolling for just a second.
I'd gotten through. Even if it was just a crack in her armor.
I was about to say something else when it happened.
BANG.
The sound was deafening. Like a gunshot going off right next to my head.
The car jerked hard to the right.
My hands flew to the steering wheel on pure instinct. I gripped it tight and tried to straighten us out.
We were sliding. The tires screamed against the asphalt.
I saw the guardrail coming up fast on the right side. Beyond it, nothing but empty air and a twenty-foot drop.
Holy fuck.
Cold sweat broke out across my back. My heart slammed against my ribs.
I stomped on the brake. Put all my weight into it.
The car shuddered. The anti-lock brakes kicked in with a grinding sound that made my teeth hurt.
We were still sliding. Still moving toward that guardrail.
Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five feet.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just held onto the wheel and prayed.
The car stopped.
Three feet from the edge.
I sat there frozen. My hands were shaking on the wheel. My breath came in short gasps.
We'd been seconds away from going over. Seconds away from dying.
"Lorenzo."
Scarlett's voice cut through my panic.