Page 67 of Lorenzo's Claim

A knot tightened in my stomach, twisting and turning as if it had a life of its own. My heart raced, and a cold sweat prickled my skin. I clenched my jaw and took shallow breaths, desperately trying to steady the tremor in my hands and calm the rising tide of disbelief that threatened to overwhelm me. He was my father’s right hand, a man who I called my friend. But he wasn’t really. He was just a stranger. A monster cloaked in familiarity.

“This room,” he continued. “It’s a shrine to you. The photographs on the walls? I took them. Every whisper in that soundtrack? Your voice—that I recorded over the years. I’ve crafted this space just for you, Anastacia. A place where you’re mine and mine alone.”

“You’re sick,” I stated, the rope biting harder and deeper into my flesh. “Lorenzo?—”

“Lorenzo isn’t coming for you.” He laughed, resting his hands on the arms of the chair beside mine. “He’s already moved on and found himself a new toy to play with. You’re yesterday’s news. But not to me. To me, you’re everything.”

“You’re lying.” My heart pounded in my chest, but I refused to let him see the fear I suddenly felt. “Lorenzo would never?—”

“Never what?” he interrupted. “Never forget about you? The woman he used as the main pawn in his game with your father? Never find someone else?” he spat. “Open your fucking eyes. His world won’t stop because you’re trapped in here.” He cocked his head to the side. “Lorenzo thinks you packed your stuff and disappeared. We made it look as though you walked out on him. Even left your ring on the side table, too.”

I glanced down at my ring finger, and of course, it was empty. They did a number on the pair of us. They tried to make Lorenzo believe I’d give up so easily. I didn’t know if he did believe it. Ijust had to hope he was clever enough to know I wouldn’t have walked out. That, no matter how shitty our marriage started out, I wouldn’t have given it up without a fight, because deep down, it could work… We just had to make it.

I closed my eyes, shutting out his words and presence. I couldn’t look into those emerald green eyes I had looked into many times before. I felt him lean into me, his obsession becoming a suffocating weight. He traced his tongue along my cheek, leaving a wet path in its wake as his thumb brushed roughly across my lips. I shuddered, my body recoiling from his touch, but the bastard held me firmly in place.

“You are mine now,” he whispered. “I’m going to make you see that, whether you like it or not.”

The room seemed to close in around me as his words echoed in my mind. As the air became thick with his scent, his voice, and the weight of his gaze. My mind raced as my grandfather’s words kept repeating in my head. For the first time, I didn’t know if I could endure this. Chad’s obsession was a different kind of torture. It was relentless, psychological, and inescapable.

“Who are they?” I asked, referring to the three masked men.

“Men you know. Men your father banished and were made to feel as if they were nothing.” He paced the room. “Men who are taking their anger out on you rather than him.”

“More cowards then.” I said. “Can’t go up against someone untied and able?”

He stopped before me, his backhand colliding with my face as I fought against the force. I managed to keep my head upright. He stepped back as I let out the breath I held. “We will see how long your defiance lasts.” His voice was cold and distant. “I hate to hurt that pretty face, but I’ll allow it until you see sense.”

“You may as well have them beat me to death then because I’ll never give myself to you,” I bellowed, my throat hoarse from refusing the food and drink they had offered me.

“I will never let it get that far, angel.” He strummed his finger against his lips. “Until then, I’ll leave you to enjoy your stay here. This room was made for you, after all.”

“I’ll never be yours, Chad.”

He was on me in seconds, his hand gripping my throat as I fought against him. “Youwillbe mine. You already are. You just need to see it.” He tightened his hold as I tried to swallow. “Now, I need to get back to playing the perfect right-hand to your father. We wouldn’t want him to suspect something amiss.”

I managed to free myself from his hold as I reared my head back, head butting the bastard in his nose. Blood spurted on my skin, but all I did was smile as I watched him clutch his face.

“You’ll regret that, Anastacia!” he cried out before storming towards the door.

“I’ll never regret anything.” I scowled.

The door slammed shut behind him as my breath suddenly came out in ragged gasps. The soundtrack continued its endless loop, my own voice and laughter haunting me from the speakers. I tried to block out the images, the sounds, and the memory of Chad’s touch.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. His obsession was a fire, and I was the fuel. I had no idea what he had planned next, but one thing I was sure of was that I would never make it easy for him.

Pain is temporary, Moy voin. It’s what you do with it that defines you.

I would endure.

I would survive.

And one way or another, with or without Lorenzo’s help, I’d find a way out.

I’d escape.

21

The rain hammeredagainst the windows of Anastacia’s bedroom, mimicking the relentless storm that raged inside me. Days had bled into nights as I scoured the city for traces of Ana. It took this happening for me to realise that her presence was more important to me than I ever knew. Her laughter, her scent, the way she occupied every room with a smile—until she saw me, anyway. But I missed her. There was a dull, painful ache inside of me, one I had never felt before. Everything was just so damn empty.

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