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He stayed quiet for a beat before finally reaching for her wrists. Gently, he untied the ribbon, rubbing his fingers over her reddened skin to soothe her.

“It’s not like that,” he murmured, voice softer now. “I’ll apologize to you for what Esther did—”

“Why would you apologize for her?” Krystal snapped, yanking her hands back. “Make her apologize to me.”

He held her waist tighter, pulling her close again. His hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as his eyes grew serious.

“You have to understand. I have to take care of Esther. Two years ago she was hur—”

A loud horn cut through the night

Their heads snapped toward the sound.

Krystal's eyes darted to the open window, the sharp glow of headlights flashing across her face. Her instinct took over.Taking advantage of his distraction, in a heartbeat, she pushed the door open and jumped out of the car.

“Krystal! Get back here!” Lorenzo shouted, lunging across the seat to grab her arm, but his fingers barely grazed her wrist—she was already gone.

The door slammed behind her with a jarring thud.

Lorenzo’s jaw tensed, the muscle twitching as fury rose in his throat. Slamming his palm against the leather seat, he threw his own door open and stepped out, boots crunching against gravel.

Krystal was already striding away, her hair catching in the breeze as she rounded the car. Her heels clicked against the pavement. She didn’t even glance back as she came to a stop beside Darren.

Darren leaned casually against the driver’s side, arms folded, one brow raised. The moment he saw Krystal, his smirk deepened.

Then his gaze lifted over her shoulder, locking onto Lorenzo. His expression darkened.

“Why are you still bothering Honey?” Darren asked, his voice flat but laced with cold warning.

Lorenzo’s steps slowed. He stopped a few feet away, eyes narrowing. His eyes flicked between Krystal and Darren, lips twisting into a forced smile as he looked between them. “Honey?” he repeated through gritted teeth.

Krystal’s voice echoed in his mind like poison. ‘Since I left you, I’ve had so many men around me. Older, younger, pretty boys with abs and charm—calling me honey, baby, darling.’

His eyes burned.

His gaze turned lethal, locking onto Darren. “What the hell’s it to you?” he snapped, each word like a shot fired. “This is between me and my wife.”

Darren gave a short, amused laugh, tilting his head. “Didn’t you two already get a divorce?” he said, deliberately casual.

Lorenzo stepped forward so fast it was a blur. He got right in Darren’s face, towering over him. His breath was ragged, fists balled at his sides.

“We haven’t finalized anything yet,” he growled. “She’s still my wife!”

Krystal let out a sharp, amused laugh, tossing her head back. Her lips curved into a taunting smile. “You need to get your head checked, Mr. Moretti,” she said, her voice like silk wrapped around venom.

She turned to Darren, and without a flicker of hesitation, she draped her arm over his shoulder. Her fingers slid into the collar of his jacket with intimate ease, like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“Let’s go,” she said lightly, voice airy, dismissive—as if the man fuming just feet away didn’t exist.

Darren didn’t need to be told twice. He smirked, smug and unbothered, and slid his arm around her waist.

He opened the passenger door of his Ferrari with practiced charm. Krystal slipped in gracefully. The door clicked shut behind her.

Lorenzo stood rooted to the spot, his heart thudding in uneven beats.

The woman who once clung to him like a lifeline, the woman who once whispered his name like a prayer—just climbed into another man’s car like it meant nothing.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath heavier than the last. His vision blurred from the fire tearing through his insides. Rage curled low in his belly like a coiled serpent, uncoiling with every mocking image replaying in his mind.