Page 110 of Lorenzo's Claim

“As I said, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Now, if there’s nothing else, run along and play pretend for as long as you can. But once you take over and fuck up—and I know you will—don’t you dare come knocking at our door because Lorenzo would rather watch the lot of you burn than help. I mean, he probably wouldn’t even piss on you if you were on fire.”

“I won’t need the pair of you. Mark my words,” he snarled, his eyes narrowing as his face reddened with anger.

“We’ll see.” I smiled as I sat back down, the girls' faces a picture of pride.

He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say or if he should open that hole he called a mouth. He went with the first option, turning on his heel and stomping towards the exit, leaving Lozza behind.

“What kind of a sister are you?!” she snapped.

“One could paint the walls with your blood if you don’t fuck off.” I replied, toying the knife between my fingers.

“You’re just… You’re?—”

“Someone you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.” I grinned. “It looks like your date left already. I told you he gets bored.” I didn’t bother to look at her. I already knew she wore a sour expression before she scurried off to find Miles.

“I wish I’d have taken a picture of his face! He was a right pissed off bastard!” Tay laughed, unable to contain her happiness. Her and Miles never truly got on, but then again, he barely got along with anyone. He was such a massive bellend who saw himself as superior to everyone and anyone who wasn’t my father.

“I wonder what Lorenzo will say about it.” Robin said, her eyes filled with joy at the thought of Miles being put in his place by my husband.

“Miles isn’t worth it. None of them are, and you know that as well as I do.” I shoved a forkful of steak into my mouth, not wanting to give him another moment of my precious time.

“You’re right, he’s not. Besides, don’t let him ruin the evening Lorenzo’s planned for you.” Robin smiled.

“I won’t. They ruined enough of my life. I won’t give them any more of it.” I had never been more sure of my words.

Hours later,I pushed open the front door, the exact smell from the restaurant in Sicily hitting me in the face.Wow… He cooked.But that wasn’t what shocked me. What caught my attention was how alive the house felt. Soft jazz music drifted throughout it, the melody wrapping around me like a warm embrace. Bright white rose petals scattered the floor, forming a path that led me deeper into our home. Vases upon vases of roses lined the stairs. To say I was speechless was an understatement. I slipped off my shoes, following the trail of petals as my heart quickened.

“Lorenzo?” I called out, unable to hide the curiosity that tinged my voice.

He emerged from the kitchen, a playful smirk playing on his lips. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was dressed in black slats and a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He was gorgeous.

“You’re late,” he teased.

“Sounds like somebody missed me.” I chuckled, watching as he strode over to where I stood.

Closing the distance between us in less than a few strides, his presence overwhelmed me, but it wasn’t enough, I needed more. Before I could wind him up more or offer another smart assremark, his lips were on mine, kissing me with a hunger that left me reeling.

His hands cupped my face, his touch firm yet tender. I melted into him, letting my fingers tangle in his hair as he let out a soft moan at the sensation. The kiss was a storm, fierce and unrelenting. I tasted the wine on his lips, a hint of garlic, and something else. Something I craved. Something I still had no clue what it was.

He finally pulled away, and a soft smile played on my lips. Lorenzo’s gaze lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, a mere inch away from my lips. I was never good with compliments. They always were few and far between, but recently, Lorenzo seemed to want to shower me with them. I couldn’t say I minded. It was different for me, and I had always liked different.

“So, what’s all this?” I asked, gesturing to the flowers and music.

A hint of mischief twinkled in his eyes. “A welcome home,” he replied, taking my hand in his.

He guided me upstairs, his hand firm on the small of my back. His smile never wavered. It was contagious.

He pushed open the bathroom door, revealing a scene that stole my breath. The room was transformed into a sanctuary of sensuality. Candles flickered along the edges of the tub, their golden light dancing on the water’s surface. Petals from white roses and delicate lavender floated in the bath, the colours vivid against the milky liquid. The air was heavy with the scent of essential oils—eucalyptus, lavender, and a hint of something earthy, like patchouli. A tray sat on the counter, holding a glass of champagne and a small plate of dark chocolate truffles. He’d really gone all out.

“For you, wife.”

His eyes held mine, intense yet gentle. I had never been treated with such care. It made me wonder if I was never worthy enough until now.

“Lorenzo, it’s beautiful,” I whispered, pressing my fingers to my lips.

“I wanted to do something for you. We have the house to ourselves, and I plan to dote on my wife for the rest of the evening.” He towered over me as he spoke. Then, he knelt before me, his dark strands brushing against my knees. His fingers unknotted the laces of my sneakers before he slipped them off my feet, setting them aside with a quiet thud.

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