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His fists clenched so tight the skin stretched over his knuckles, white and trembling. His lips pressed into a hard line, jaw tight, teeth grinding.

And then, without a word, without a backward glance, he turned. His steps were sharp, heavy, his shoes slamming against the pavement with every stride.

He stormed back into the casino, the cool air inside doing nothing to cool the inferno burning inside him.

The bouncers stepped aside wordlessly as he pushed through to the private lounge.

Once inside, he grabbed the nearest bottle and poured himself a drink—then another.

And another.

Three shots went down in rapid succession, like water.

Michael leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers entwined, watching him with faint amusement. “Let me guess,” he drawled, raising a brow, watching him down shot after shot. “Krystal again?”

Lorenzo’s head snapped toward him, eyes wild and dark. “Don’t bring her up again,” he snarled.

Michael raised both hands, palms out in surrender. “Alright, alright. Message received.”

Larry chuckled, swirling the ice in his whiskey glass. One leg crossed over the other, he threw an arm around Lorenzo’s shoulder.

“Man,” Larry said with a smirk, “that woman’s dangerous. First had me falling for her, now she’s got you losing your damn mind. I’ve seen you lose billion-dollar deals without flinching. But this?” He shook his head. “She’s got you unraveling.”

Lorenzo growled and shoved Larry’s arm off him with force.

Larry stumbled slightly, straightening with a tight scowl.

The smile vanished from Larry’s face. He exchanged a quick glance with Michael—who subtly shook his head, warning him to drop it.

Lorenzo’s jaw tightened, his seething glare cutting through the dimly lit room like a blade. With a sharp growl, he downed the rest of his whiskey in one long pull, the glass slamming down onto the table.

“She was with me for two years,” he growled, voice rough and tight. “Twofuckingyears—and the whole time, she was faking it? Pretending to love me?”

Chapter 15 A Love-sick Puppy

Michael leaned back on the couch, swirling his drink. “I don’t think that’s the truth. Krystal was so attentive to you. From what I saw, she really cared about you. She took care of you like no one else.”

Lorenzo’s voice dropped low, gravelly with pain. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying,” Michael leaned forward slightly, his tone calm but pointed, “if she didn’t haveanyfeelings for you, she wouldn’t have stayed that long. Two years isn't nothing, Lorenzo. There had to be something real.”

Lorenzo went still for a beat. His fingers trembled slightly as he set the glass down, his expression cracking for just a moment. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Michael said. “And look at her now. she suddenly has men chasing her left and right? Come on, man. She’s doing it on purpose. She wants to make you jealous.”

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “You mean… she’s pretending to have all these guys around her just to get under my skin?”

Michael smirked and lifted his glass. “Think about it. Has she ever said anything like, ‘I have plenty of men now, and you're not even on the list’?”

Lorenzo’s mind flashed back to that conversation in the car. ‘Since I divorced you, I’ve had so many men around me.’

He gave a small nod.

“There you go,” Michael grinned, pointing with his whiskey glass. “She’s trying to mess with your head—make you realize how much she still matters to you.”

A slow smile spread across Lorenzo’s face as he leaned back against the leather couch. “So it’s all a bluff. She’s faking it.” He chuckled darkly.

Michael leaned forward, his tone more serious now. “You like her, don’t you? Don’t lie.”