Page 45 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
Lorenzo’s grip tightened. “Oh, so you do know who I am. Then, you know I don’t make empty threats.”
Jeremy’s forehead broke out in sweat.
Hannah was shaking beside me, but I caught in her expression—satisfaction. Relief.
I crossed my arms. “Hannah, you can go get your things.”
Jeremy nodded frantically. “Y-yeah. Yeah, take whatever. I don’t want no trouble, man.”
Lorenzo released him, and he stumbled back, clutching his throat like he’d just been yanked from a noose.
Hannah practically sprinted inside, grabbing a few bags and stuffing clothes into them as fast as she could.
Ten minutes later, we were done. Jeremy had fled as soon as Lorenzo had his back to him, sprinting into the street like the wild dog he was.
As we walked back to the car, Hannah turned to me suddenly, throwing her arms around me.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t—”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I murmured back. “Just promise me you’ll never go back.”
She nodded, eyes glassy. “I won’t.”
Lorenzo pulled out his wallet, slipping a thick wad of cash into her palm.
“For the road,” he muttered.
Her mouth opened in shock, but he was already turning away like he hadn’t just handed a waitress a small fortune.
Hannah clutched the money to her chest, blinking back tears. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Lorenzo said. “Just go.”
She nodded, wiped her face, got into her car, and drove away.
I stared at him. He pretended not to notice.
But I had seen it. The softness. The kindness.
A glimpse of the Lorenzo I used to know.
A glimpse of the boy I had loved growing up.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LORENZO
“You look beautiful,” I whispered as I walked into my mom’s house. I had dropped Maria off after Hannah left and made my way to my mother’s house.
“You are such a terrible liar,” she teased as I placed a soft kiss on her cheeks.
I smirked, dropping onto the couch beside her. “Good to see you too, Mamma.”
She gave me a knowing look, folding her soft fingers over her lap. “You’re overworking yourself again, aren’t you?”
“I run a business,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Not much choice.” I tried not to look at her, to see how pale she was getting. It breaks my heart to see her this way and have so little I can do about it.
“You run an empire,” she corrected, shaking her head. “And you let it eat away at you.”
