Page 23 of Lorenzo's Claim

After about twenty minutes, we reached our first destination. One I used to lose myself in as a child.

“I won’t be long,” I assured Chad as I quickly exited the car before he could ask me if he could tag along.

I entered the old-school flower shop situated on the main strip of town, an array of flowers decorated the inside and out. It was so familiar to me. Nothing had changed in all the years it had been open. I used to visit weekly with my grandmother to collect her favourite pink lilies. I was obsessed with flowers, and to be honest, they were still one of my favourite things. My grandfather and I used to spend hours tending to the garden,and when he passed away, my grandmother took his place by my side.

“Anastacia, my darling, how are you?” Marilyn, my father’s aunt cooed as she pulled me into a hug. “Your order is ready.”

“Well, I’m married. Surprise!” I groaned as she gasped at the news.

“I cannot believe your father would do such a damn thing! I could wring his neck!”

“I can’t believe it either, and get this, he sprung it on me outside the venue! I thought I was attending a typical mafia wedding. But no, it wasmine.” I breathed, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me.

“Tell me, is your husband a good one, at least?”I wished.

“My husband is Lorenzo Ricci. I don’t think there is any good in him.”

“Is your father fucking mad?! Excuse my language, but I swear he doesn’t think most of the time.” She threw her arms up in frustration.

“Clearly.” I laughed, but it was all fake. No feelings attached.

“You know where I am if you need anything, even if it’s just a call.” She patted my cheek gently, the familiar smell of peppermint and floral hues taking me back to simpler times.

“I know, thank you. It means a lot.” She handed me the usual bunch of lilies, beautifully wrapped. “How much do I owe you?”

“You ask me every week, darling, and the answer is always the same. Nothing.”

“Fine, but here’s a tip for the beautiful flowers.” I grinned, leaving a fifty on the counter.

“You’re as stubborn as my brother. The same brother who’d be turning in his grave if he knew the deal your father made.” She scoffed, her irritation levels rising yet again. “Look after yourself. Show that husband of yours just who you are, who yourgrandfather taught you to be.” She winked, her support well and truly needed.

“Don’t worry, I will.” I blew her a kiss from the door before heading back to the car.

I knew I was being followed the second I stepped foot outside Marilyn’s shop. Lorenzo had sent someone after me, wanting to know my every damn move.

Psychopath.

“All sorted?” Chad asked as I climbed inside the car.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I fastened my seatbelt as he set off down the road to our final destination.

We drove across town to where my grandmother resided in a secluded care home. She barely had any time left, and each week I visited, it got harder. I’d grown up with her, spending the majority of my time at my grandparents’ house. Visiting her was my favourite part of the week. Knowing that she was getting worse day by day, and that one day I’d be without her, killed me inside.

“Ana, you can stop coming here if it’s too hard,” Chad said softly, his voice gentle and understanding.

“I could never stop visiting her. She needs me just like I need her.” I retrieved the flowers as he pulled up to the large building. “You don’t need to wait. I’ll make my own way home.”

“Without a phone? Don’t be silly. I’ll park up and wait.” He smiled as I exited the car.

I climbed the worn stone steps, feeling the coolness of the railing beneath my hand, and entered the old yet elegant building. The nurses greeted me with warm smiles and cheerful hellos, their faces as friendly and welcoming as they were every week. Inside, the high-beamed ceilings stretched above me like the nave of a cathedral, while vibrant paintings and black-and-white photographs lined the walls, capturing moments of history and beauty. Through the tall double doors at the back, the viewunfurled like a masterpiece, offering a sprawling landscape that seemed to breathe life into the very structure of the building.

My grandmother caught my eye through the window as she sat on a bench under the shade of her favourite oak tree with a book in hand and a red cardigan draped over her shoulders. The very same one my grandfather bought her the year he died.

“Go on out, Anastacia. She’s waiting for you.” One of the nurses smiled, capturing my attention.

“Thank you. How is she today?” I asked, turning my attention to the nurse.

“She’s okay. Today has been one of her better days.” She squeezed my hand before she wandered back to tend to another patient.

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