Page 90 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
I let out a choked laugh. “Protect me? Is that what you were doing? Protecting me by keeping me in the dark? Letting me fall and live in a lie?”
His jaw clenched. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you.”
“But you didn’t.”
His hands fell to his sides, defeat washing over his face.
I wiped my tears angrily, shaking my head. “I can’t…I just… I can’t do this.”
Lorenzo’s voice cracked. “Maria, please. I am sorry. Just hear me out. I had—”
I turned away, my entire body shaking. If I stayed, if I let him hold me, I knew I would break. And I couldn’t afford to break. Not now. Not with everything falling apart around me. So, I left, and Lorenzo didn’t stop me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LORENZO
She was gone.
I stood frozen in the middle of the room, the weight of her absence pressing down on my chest like a boulder. My heart was still hammering from the fight with Luca, but the real blow, the one that truly shattered me, had come from Maria.
“I can’t marry you.”
The words echoed in my skull, bouncing off the walls of my mind like a cruel joke. My fingers clenched into fists, my entire body trembling.
This was my fault. I had brought this upon myself. I let out a ragged breath, running a hand through my hair before slamming my fist against the desk. The pain barely registered. I welcomed it. I deserved it.
Dante warned me. I could still hear his voice.
“Tell her before she finds out on her own. The truth never stays buried, Lorenzo.”
But I hadn’t listened.
Would it have made a difference?
I gritted my teeth, the fury boiling inside me until it had nowhere to go. My arm lashed out, knocking the stack of papers off my desk. They scattered like fallen leaves, swirling in the air before landing in a chaotic mess on the floor.
The chair went next, crashing into the bookshelf. The sound of splintering wood filled the room, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out the ache in my chest.
My breathing was ragged, and my vision blurred. Maria was gone, and for the first time in years, I felt truly, utterly alone. A soft knock at the door barely registered in my haze of anger.
“Lorenzo.”
The voice was gentle and familiar.
My mother. I had gone back to get my mom after Maria left and brought her to my house. Something earlier on had reminded me of how I wanted her near me to keep a close eye on her and be closer to her. But right now, I couldn’t let her see me like this.
I turned away from the mess I had made, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes. But it was too late. She stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the destruction. She didn’t flinch. She had seen worse.
She had seen me worse. She walked toward me slowly, like she was approaching a wounded animal.
“You have never been one to handle pain well,” she mused, bending down to pick up one of the papers I had thrown. “You bottle it up until it eats you alive. Just like your father.”
I sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of him.
She sighed, placing the paper on the desk before looking at me. “I knew something was wrong. The moment I saw Maria’s face. I knew you had not told her the truth.”
I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “She left.”
