Page 73 of Lorenzo's Claim

“Ana?” Red’s voice called out from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t respond. My sobs cut off my words as I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to muffle the sound. “Ana?! Please open the door,” he called again, his voice filled with concern.

They don’t care about you, Ana… But I do.

Chad’s voice embedded itself into my mind as I closed my eyes, violently shaking my head, trying to block him out.

Oh, Ana, you know I’ll always be here. Your husband can torture and kill me, but you know I’ll live on in your mind.

“Go a-away… Please…” I pleaded through ragged breaths.

“Ana?” Red shouted again, managing to interrupt the unwanted voice. “Fuck!”

I felt small, vulnerable, and alone.

Wondering if I'd ever forget and be the woman I once was.

23

The scentof garlic and basil mingled in the air as I added the finishing touches to Anastacia’s dinner, wanting to make sure she ate something to regain her strength. I had gotten used to seeing my wife with such fire and that spark I’d grown to enjoy. Seeing her the way she was now killed me inside. Although she said she was fine, I knew she was anything but.

I planned on making Chad pay for what he inflicted on Ana. I wouldn’t rest until he was tortured, killed, chopped up, and disposed of. However, he could wait until Ana was better. She would be my sole focus before anything or anyone else.

“Boss!” Red burst into the kitchen, his expression uneasy. “Ana’s locked herself in your ensuite. She won’t open the door.” He seemed panicked, rightfully so.

The dishes clattered on the tray when I dropped them. I was ready to race up the stairs. “Red, finish that for her. She needs to eat.” I instructed as I hurried out of the kitchen, doubling my strides until I climbed the staircase and reached my bathroom.

“Ana, open the door,” I called out, but there was no response. I pressed my ear against the cold wood, only hearing the sounds of running water. My mind raced with possibilities ofwhat was happening behind the locked door, each one more terrifying than the last. Desperation clawed at me, and I felt a deep, unwavering need to be by her side, to be her comfort and support, whether she realised she needed me or not.

Without hesitation, I kicked the door in as the wood splintered beneath the force. The room was a stark contrast to the warmth of the kitchen as my eyes automatically fell on the shower. My heart stopped. There was my wife, crumpled on the shower floor, violent sobs leaving her.

My heart clenched in my chest as I crossed the room in two strides and entered the shower stall with her. I dropped down beside her, the ice cold water coming down on me. Her body trembled, and her lips were blue.

“Ana,” I whispered.

“I c-can still f-feel—” She struggled to breathe through her tears as she clawed at her skin. I realised she was trying to scrub herself clean, trying to erase the abuse of Chad’s men.

“Stop. Please, stop.” I took her hands in mine, pulling her drenched body into mine as I shut off the water. “I’m here. Nobody will ever hurt you again.” I shushed her, holding her close, not letting her feel as though she was alone.

I never thought I’d ever see her so vulnerable. There might have been a time I would have loved to see her broken, but seeing her this way made me realise it was never truly what I wanted. All I ever truly wanted was her, I was just too stupid and closed off to see it.

I held her tightly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry, so fucking sorry,” I whispered into her hair, but she didn’t reply.

I didn’t know how long we sat there for, but it was long enough that my embrace stopped her shaking, stopped her clawing at her skin and calmed her breathing.

“I’m going to take you out of here, okay?” I said gently, which was new for me. I had stepped into unfamiliar territory andrealised she’d be the only one I’d ever do that for.

She replied with a nod. I scooped her into my arms. “Please stay with me tonight, in this room or yours, but I don't want you to be alone.” I set her down on the edge of the bed and retrieved a towel.

“Can I stay here? I don’t feel safe in there…” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“We can.” I cupped her face, wiping the tear that fell with the pad of my thumb. “We can stay anywhere you want.” I placed the towel on the bed, her eyes meeting mine. “I need to get you out of this dress, okay?”

She nodded, looking away from me. “Okay.”

She raised her arms as I slipped off her dress, goosebumps covering her bare skin. My eyes dropped to the bruises that covered all parts of her and my blood simmered beneath the surface. My wife took everything they gave her, and it made me sick.

What sort of fucking person could hurt her like that?!

I composed myself internally, not letting my inner rage rattle her. I replaced her lace lingerie with a pair of my boxers before covering her with one of my T-shirts that drowned her slender frame.

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