Page 21 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
Then, Lorenzo’s voice hit me like a punch to the gut: low, steady, and deceptively calm.
“Hello, Maria.”
For a second, I forgot how to breathe, how to think, and how to exist.
The years hadn’t dulled anything about him. If anything, they’d sharpened him—like a blade honed to perfection. He had the same intense gaze, the same mesmerizing expression, and the same presence that made my world spin at the sight of him.
My fingers curled at my sides. “Lorenzo.”
His eyes flickered down, taking me in, his gaze lingering just a second too long, but he masked it just as quickly. Then, without looking away, he motioned to one of the butlers.
“Take their bags and show them to their rooms.”
Kayla and Matteo had returned, and for a second, she glanced at me for confirmation, and I gave her a small nod.
Matteo looked at me for a long moment as if trying to decide if he should go, and then he took Kayla’s hand and followed the butler.
Only when they were gone did Lorenzo move again. “Can we talk?”
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to run upstairs, lock myself in my room, and pretend I had never stepped foot in this house again. But I also knew that the sooner we got this over with, the better.
“Sure.”
I followed him through the hallways, past the grand staircase, and past the paintings I had once memorized as a child. Nostalgia and grief stirred up inside me, squeezing tight.
By the time we reached the backyard, my stomach was a knot of nerves. The pool shimmered under the bright lights, and the scent of the orange trees brought back old feelings to me. I stood by the edge, arms wrapped around myself and bracing for whatever he was about to say.
Lorenzo leaned against the railing, watching me. Always watching. “You left.”
A cold, humorless laugh slipped past my lips. So typical of Lorenzo to just go straight to the point, “Yeah, I figured we’d start with that.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Why?”
I forced myself to look at him. "Because I was pregnant."
Something in his expression changed. It wasn’t shock or anger. It was acceptance—like he had already known.
The realization made my chest tighten. “You knew.”
Lorenzo exhaled slowly, his gaze unwavering. “I suspected the night I came over to your room. I had seen the pregnancy kit on your nightstand. I wasn’t sure, but it had crossed my mind a few times.”
The admission knocked the wind out of me.
All these years, I had convinced myself that I left before he could ever find out and that I had taken my secret with me and buried it deep. But Lorenzo wasn’t stupid. He had always been able to read me better than anyone.
My nails dug into my palms. “You should have told me you knew.”
“And then what?” His voice was quiet and measured. “Would you have stayed?”
I hesitated. He knew the answer as well as I did.
His jaw tightened. “You should have told me, Maria. We could have figured something out.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “Right. Because we were such good friends?”
Lorenzo studied me for a moment, then sighed. “It doesn’t matter now.”
