Chapter Sixteen: Trouble

Chapter Sixteen: Trouble
Chapter Sixteen: Trouble 

Elena’s POV

The DeLuca estate felt cold. The big house was quiet, like a storm was waiting to break. I stayed in my art studio most days. It was my safe place. The smell of paint and the feel of a brush in my hand calmed me. But even there, Lorenzo’s shadow followed me. His face, his voice, the memory of Giuliana touching him—they haunted me.

I stood in front of a canvas. My brush moved fast, painting dark blues and grays. The colors showed my anger, my hurt. Lorenzo tried to talk to me after that day in the studio. I gave him short answers. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I saw Giuliana’s hands on him. I saw him not push her away. That image burned in my mind.

This morning, I woke early. The sun wasn’t up yet. I went to the studio, hoping to forget everything. As I mixed paint, I heard a knock. My heart jumped. I knew it was him.

“Elena?” Lorenzo’s voice was soft but strong. “Can I come in?”

I froze. My brush stopped mid-air. I didn’t want to see him, but my body betrayed me. My chest felt tight. “Fine,” I said. “Come in.”

The door opened. Lorenzo stepped inside. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled up. His dark hair was messy, like he hadn’t slept. His eyes locked on mine. They were intense, full of something I couldn’t name. I felt a shiver, not from cold but from him.

“You’re up early,” he said. He looked at my canvas. “This is new.”

I turned back to my painting. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He stepped closer. I smelled his cologne—wood and spice. It made my stomach twist. “Elena, we need to talk,” he said.

I kept my eyes on the canvas. “We talked already. You said sorry. I heard you.”

He sighed. “I know I hurt you. I messed up with Giuliana. I should’ve stopped her.”

I gripped my brush tighter. “But you didn’t. That’s the problem.”

He moved closer. Too close. I felt the heat from his body. My skin tingled. I hated it. I hated how he made me feel. “Elena, look at me,” he said, his voice low.

I didn’t want to. But I turned. His face was inches away. His eyes were dark, searching mine. I saw pain there, but also something else—want. My breath caught. For a moment, I forgot my anger. I forgot Giuliana. I only saw him.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he said. “But I want to. I need you to believe that.”

My heart raced. His voice was like a pull, drawing me in. I stepped back, hitting the workbench. “Words don’t fix trust,” I said. “You broke it.”

He reached out, his hand hovering near my arm. I froze. His fingers brushed my skin, just for a second. It was like fire. I pulled away, my cheeks hot. “Don’t,” I said, my voice shaky.

He dropped his hand. His jaw tightened. “I’m trying, Elena. But you push me away.”

“Maybe I have to,” I said. “Maybe it’s safer that way.”

He stared at me. The air felt heavy, like it could snap. Then he nodded. “I’ll give you space,” he said. He turned and left. The door closed softly. I leaned against the workbench, my heart pounding. Why did he make me feel this way?

The next day, everything changed. I was in the dining room, eating breakfast alone. Sophia rushed in, her face pale. “Elena, something happened,” she said.

I put down my fork. “What?”

She glanced around, like someone might hear. “A car followed Lorenzo last night. It wasn’t an accident. Someone’s watching him.”

My stomach dropped. “Who? Why?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Lorenzo’s meeting with his men now. But it’s bad, Elena. Really bad.”

I pushed my plate away. Lorenzo’s world was dangerous. I knew that. But hearing it made my chest tight. Was I in danger too? I stood. “Where is he?”

“In his office,” she said. “But maybe you shouldn’t—”

I didn’t wait. I walked fast, my shoes clicking on the marble floor. My mind raced. I was angry at Lorenzo, but the thought of him in danger scared me. I hated that I cared.

I reached his office. The door was closed. I heard voices inside—Lorenzo’s, sharp and angry, and others I didn’t know. I knocked hard. The voices stopped.

“Elena?” Lorenzo opened the door. He looked surprised. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, showing a bit of his chest. I looked away, my face warm.

“I heard about the car,” I said. “What’s going on?”

He frowned. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Don’t do that,” I said, stepping inside. Two men—Marco and Antonio—stood near his desk. They looked tense. “I’m your wife. I deserve to know.”

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. “This is my business, Elena. Not yours.”

His words stung. I crossed my arms. “If someone’s following you, it’s my business too. What if they come for me?”

He froze. His eyes softened for a moment, but then he turned cold. “I’m handling it,” he said. “Go back to your studio.”

I stared at him. Anger boiled inside me. “You don’t get to dismiss me,” I said. “Not anymore.”

Marco coughed, looking uncomfortable. Antonio smirked. Lorenzo glared at them, then back at me. “Fine,” he said. “Stay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He motioned to a chair. I sat, my heart racing. He stood close, leaning against the desk. His body was tense, muscles tight under his shirt. I tried not to notice, but it was hard. He was too close, too real.

“The car was from the Moretti family,” Lorenzo said. “They’re rivals. They’ve been quiet for years, but now they’re moving in.”

“Why?” I asked.

He hesitated. “They know about you,” he said. “They think you’re a weakness.”

My breath caught. “Me? Why me?”

Lorenzo’s eyes locked on mine. “Because you’re my wife,” he said. His voice was low, almost a growl. It sent a shiver down my spine. Not from fear—from something else. Something I didn’t want to name.

“So what now?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“We’re meeting them tonight,” he said. “To talk. To stop this before it gets worse.”

I stood, my hands shaking. “And if it doesn’t work? What then?”

He stepped closer. His body was inches from mine. I could feel his heat, his breath. “I’ll protect you,” he said. “No matter what.”

His words hit me hard. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to feel safe. But I remembered Giuliana. I remembered his hands not pushing her away. I stepped back. “I don’t need your protection,” I said. “I need the truth.”

His face darkened. “You want the truth? I’m trying to keep you alive, Elena. This world isn’t kind. It doesn’t care about your feelings.”

“Then why am I here?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why did you marry me?”

He stared at me. His eyes burned with something fierce—anger, pain, desire. “Because I had to,” he said. “And because… I wanted to.”

My heart stopped. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His words hung between us, heavy and dangerous. I felt the pull again, that heat drawing me to him. I hated it. I hated him. But my body didn’t care.

I turned and left, my steps fast. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

That evening, I stayed in my room. I couldn’t paint. I couldn’t think. Lorenzo’s words kept replaying. I wanted to. What did that mean? Did he feel something for me? Or was it just another game?

There was a knock at my door. I opened it, expecting Sophia. It was Lorenzo. He wore a black suit, ready for his meeting. He looked dangerous, powerful. My stomach flipped.

“I’m leaving,” he said. “I wanted to see you first.”

“Why?” I asked, my voice sharp.

He stepped inside, closing the door. The room felt smaller. “Because I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight,” he said. “And I need you to know something.”

I crossed my arms. “What?”

He moved closer. Too close. My back hit the wall. He didn’t touch me, but his presence was overwhelming. “I messed up with Giuliana,” he said. “I know that. But you… you’re different. You’re in my head, Elena. All the time.”

My breath hitched. His eyes were dark, intense. I felt the heat between us, like a spark waiting to ignite. “Don’t say that,” I whispered. “Not now.”

He leaned closer. His lips were inches from mine. I could feel his breath, warm and steady. “Why not?” he asked. “Because you feel it too?”

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to push him away. But my body wouldn’t move. My hands clenched at my sides. “You hurt me,” I said. “You don’t get to do this.”

He closed his eyes, like my words hurt him. Then he stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll prove it to you. I will.”

He left without another word. I slid down the wall, my heart racing. My skin burned where he’d almost touched me. I hated him. I wanted him. It was tearing me apart.

Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. I paced my room, thinking about Lorenzo. Was he safe? Was he hurt? The Moretti threat scared me more than I wanted to admit. I didn’t want to care, but I did.

Sophia came to my room. She looked worried. “Elena, there’s news,” she said.

My heart stopped. “Is Lorenzo okay?”

She nodded. “He’s back. The meeting went… okay. No fighting. But there’s something else.”

“What?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Giuliana was there. With the Morettis.”

My blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”

“She’s working with them,” Sophia said. “Lorenzo didn’t know. It’s why they’re targeting you. She’s jealous, Elena. She wants him back.”

I felt sick. Giuliana wasn’t just a memory. She was a threat. A real one. And Lorenzo hadn’t told me.

I stormed to his office. He was there, sitting at his desk. He looked tired, his jacket off, shirt unbuttoned. My eyes lingered on his chest, then snapped to his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.

He stood, confused. “Tell you what?”

“Giuliana,” I said. “She’s with the Morettis. She’s coming for me.”

His face paled. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” I snapped. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

He stepped toward me. “I was going to tell you tomorrow. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me?” I laughed, bitter. “I’m already scared, Lorenzo. Because of you.”

He grabbed my arms, gentle but firm. His touch sent sparks through me. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said. “I didn’t know about Giuliana until tonight. I swear.”

I pulled away, but my body screamed to stay close. “I don’t believe you,” I said. “Not anymore.”

He looked at me, his eyes raw. “Elena, I’m not the enemy.”

“Then who is?” I asked. “Because it feels like you.”

I turned and left, my heart breaking. The heat between us was real, but so was the pain. Giuliana was back, and she wanted to destroy us. I didn’t know if we could survive her—or each other.