Page 86 of Malevolent Secrets

And speaking of Lorenzo, I don't know how to feel about him because I am not willing to admit it yet, but I feel things for him. I feel strong things for him.

And even if I did not feel anything for him, he is the father of my child. And now I don't know what to do. I don't know how to process all of these things that I am feeling.

I don't know what to do right now. Just as I'm thinking these thoughts, my phone rings and I see that it's a call from Mark.

I don't pick it up. I decline the call because I don't know what to say to him.

But then I text him, Hey, I'll call you back later. I cannot talk right now.

To which he responds, Okay, but please let me know quickly. We need to figure out what our plan of action is.

What do I do? How do I explain to him that I want to back out of this? More importantly, do I want to back out of this? Am I suddenly changing my entire plan of getting revenge for Jeremy because of my new discoveries?

Does it mean that Jeremy is no longer deserving of my effort or my time? It's all overwhelming.

I get up and look at my face in the mirror, my hair unwashed, black circles around my eyes, bags like Gucci and Prada hanging below my eye sockets. I look a mess, but I cannot even worry about that right now. I leave the room.

As I step out of the room, I hear voices and one of them sounds like Renee’s. I stay by the corner behind the wall and listen in.

“I know it’s wrong, but honestly, if we are judging people's actions by a moral compass, she has done a lot worse to me. I feel like I deserve this one gray area.”

Unfortunately for me, she seems to be at the end of the conversation. She sighs, and it sounds heavy and deep.

“Okay, I understand. Thank you for telling me,” she says, and ends the call.

Before I can hide, she sees me, and she sighs. “Hey, how are you doing?” she asks me.

I disregard her question. “Who was that? What's wrong?” I ask her.

Renee looks at me, and there is something in her eyes, something I cannot quite put my finger on. It’s an emotion I cannot properly express, but it looks a lot like grief.

“Daniella, Dani, listen. Lorenzo…”

She doesn't even complete the sentence before my heart goes into overdrive.

“Lorenzo? What happened to him? What's wrong?”

My heart is beating two times faster than its normal rate and it feels like it's about to run out of my rib cage and across the hallway.

“He's been shot,” she tells me, and it feels like I have misheard her.

Surely, I have misheard her. There's no way she just said now that Lorenzo has been shot. Lorenzo is invincible.

Come on, he's the fucking Capo. He's the fucking mafia, the fucking Cosa Nostra. How can he be shot?

But she's here, and she's saying it. I feel like I'm spacing out. Her lips are moving, but I can't hear what she's saying.

“Dani? Dani? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

She grips my shoulders, shaking me a little bit, and I come to.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just...Lorenzo. Where is he? I need to see him. I need to see him now. Please, please.”

“Daniella, it’s too dangerous. You can’t leave the house. Massimo’s men are still out there.”

“Please, Renee, please,” I beg, my voice breaking. “I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.”

She shakes her head, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Daniella. I can’t let you go. It’s not safe.”

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