Chapter 5 - The midnight confrontation
The charity gala ended in a storm of whispered gossip and furious tension. The ride back to the Duca estate was suffocating. Lorenzo rode in the lead SUV, his mind racing with the words Elena had spoken on the dance floor. Vivien rode in a separate car, having cited a sudden migraine, though Lorenzo knew it was pure, unadulterated rage. Elena had returned hours earlier with the catering staff.
It was past midnight when the heavy doors of the mansion closed behind him. The lights were dimmed, the house plunged into a quiet, velvet darkness. Lorenzo threw his tuxedo jacket over a chair in the foyer, loosening his black bowtie.
He didn't go to his suite. He walked directly to the massive estate library. The room was two stories high, lined with ancient books and smelling of rain from the open balcony doors.
He found Elena exactly where he knew she would be. She was pretending to organize a cart of books, trying to stay busy, trying to hide. She had changed back into her black housekeeping uniform, the white apron stark against the dark wood of the room.
Lorenzo walked in and quietly pushed the heavy mahogany doors shut, turning the brass lock with a definitive click.
Elena spun around at the sound, her back hitting the bookshelf. She looked like a trapped animal, beautiful and terrified.
We are done playing games, Elena, Lorenzo said, his voice a low, lethal rumble that filled the quiet library. He crossed the room slowly, his predator's gait purposeful and terrifying.
Mr. Duca, I was just finishing up, Elena stammered, grabbing a book like a shield. I will go to my room.
You aren't going anywhere, Lorenzo commanded, stopping mere inches from her. He placed a hand on the bookshelf right beside her head, trapping her. He leaned in, the scent of expensive cologne and champagne wrapping around her.
Who are you? Lorenzo demanded.
I told you, I am Elena, I—
Do not lie to me! Lorenzo’s voice cracked like a whip, fierce and demanding, yet heavily laced with a desperate need for the truth. Marco pulled your file. You don't exist. You have no family, no history. And yet, my daughter, who has barely spoken three words to anyone in this house since she arrived, calls you Mommy when she thinks no one is listening.
Elena squeezed her eyes shut, a sob tearing from her throat. Please, Lorenzo. Stop asking. If I tell you, you will hate me. And she will kill me.
Lorenzo’s expression shifted. The anger vanished, replaced by a profound, terrifying protective instinct. Who will kill you? Vivien? Is that why she treats you like dirt? Is that why you let her humiliate you?
Elena nodded, unable to speak through her tears.
Lorenzo reached out, his large, warm hand gently gripping her chin, forcing her to look up at him. His dark eyes were fierce, burning with a fire she had never seen before.
Listen to me, Lorenzo whispered, his thumb softly brushing away a tear on her cheek. No one in this world has the power to touch you while you are in my house. Not Vivien. Not the council. No one. Do you understand me? Tell me the truth, Elena.
Elena looked into his eyes, the absolute conviction in his voice tearing down the walls she had built for three agonizing years.
Four years ago, Elena cried, her voice breaking. You were bleeding. You stumbled into the alley behind the diner where I worked. The Moretti cartel had ambushed you. You were delirious. I hid you in my apartment. I stitched your wound.
Lorenzo froze, his mind flashing back to a dark, blurry night he had completely lost to blood loss and fever. He remembered an angel with brunette hair and soft hands. He remembered pulling her into his bed, desperate for comfort, desperate for life. He had woken up alone the next morning, the apartment empty, his wounds bandaged.
I got pregnant, Elena whispered, the confession spilling out like a broken dam. I wanted to find you, but the Moretti men were tearing the city apart looking for the woman who helped you. They found my name. They burned my apartment down. I ran. I lived on the streets to protect her. When Mia was born, I knew they would use her to get to you. So I brought her here. I left her at your gate because I knew you were the only one strong enough to protect her.
Lorenzo stared at her, the breath knocked completely out of his lungs. The maid standing in front of him wasn't just a stranger. She was the mother of his child. She was the savior he had looked for and failed to find.
Why didn't you come to me? Lorenzo asked, his voice thick with a devastating, heavy sorrow. Why did you come back as a maid?
Because the Moretti cartel is still looking for me, Elena sobbed, gripping the lapels of his white shirt. And Vivien found out. She found my old ID. She told me if I didn't force you to marry her, she would hand me over to them, and they would take Mia.
Lorenzo’s entire body went rigid. The betrayal was absolute. Vivien wasn't just a greedy socialite. She was conspiring with his deadliest enemies to destroy his family from the inside.
May you like
He wrapped his massive arms around Elena, pulling her flush against his chest, burying his face in her dark hair. He held her tight, a silent vow passing between them in the dark library.
Vivien is a dead woman, Lorenzo whispered into her hair, his voice devoid of mercy. But before I end her, I am going to make her suffer.
