Page 52 of Lorenzo's Claim

I used to be sure that’s what I wanted, but now I’m having second thoughts.

No, scratch that, I was sure, she was Victor’s daughter, that was all. I had my plan and I had to remain focused enough to execute it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gino’s angry tone cut the silence.

I already knew I was a class A prick. I didn’t need a lecture from him and Emmet.

“The way you spoke to your wife was uncalled for. I get you don’t love her, perhaps you never will and that’s fine, but she isn’t some cheap whore and you know it.”

I did know it. She was a fucking goddess. One someone like me would never deserve, so why try?

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and he was right.

“Remember you work for me, Gino. Not my wife,”

“Lorenzo, I get it, alright? You want to kill her father, but why do you feel the need to keep hurting her?” Gino asked. “And I don’t mean physically, I mean verbally, sometimes you don’t realise how much words can hurt someone.”

“I don’t know, okay? Maybe it’s because I’m a heartless bastard who has never felt anything other than pain for years. And that was because of her father.”

“Exactly, her father. Not her.” Emmet responded, finally joining the conversation. “She won’t even go back to the Fedorov house tonight. Do you care where she’s going?”

“Of course I care.” I rubbed at my temple. “She’s my wife.”

“Yeah, you sure know how to show it.” Emmet scoffed.

I chose to ignore his comment, mainly because of course, he was right.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I knew it was Red, updating me on Ana.

“Red, where is she?”

“At the graveyard.” He replied, his tone clipped and distant. “She has nowhere else to go, Lorenzo. Not once did she ask me to drive her to Victor’s.”

I could picture Ana kneeling beside Aleksander’s grave, thinking I was a damn monster, and she wasn’t wrong. I was and I always would be.

“How is she?” I asked, softer than before.

“How do you think she is? She’s sitting in a fucking heap beside his grave. She’s fucking shivering. Shall I continue?”

“No, don’t. Just send a couple of men to keep an eye on Chad. I don’t trust him.”

“Just like you don’t trust the woman who is supposedly your wife.” He hung up before I had the chance to respond. Before I had the chance to ask him to bring her home.

“Well, where is she?” Gino asked, pouring himself a whiskey.

“Out.”

“Where?” Emmet questioned. It was clear as day that my two most loyal men were worried about her. The same men I told not to speak to her or make her feel welcome, yet they did the opposite. I guess they had a bigger heart than I did. Hell, did I even have one at all.

“I’m going to bed,” I muttered.

But I didn’t want to go to bed, I wanted to go and find my wife. But I couldn’t, I would be the last person she’d want to see, probably always would be.

Tonight, I should have gutted a traitor. I should have finally made him sing like a canary. But the second I got the call that Chad was allowed past the gate, I flew home like a bat out of hell, forgetting everything and anything in that moment. Thinking that bastard was with my wife caused something inside of me to snap.

I shouldn’t have felt anything, yet I did. I just couldn’t explain what.

Tonight had been a shit show… A real fucking shit show, and I was done with everything, including the guilt that crept in about Ana.

---