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Flashbacks slammed into him, uninvited but unstoppable. That night. Her voice. Her scent. Her warmth. His hands clenched. “That’s Krystal,” he said again, louder this time, the certainty sharpening in his voice.

He hadn’t imagined it that night. He knew it was Krystal! He wouldn’t have made a mistake like that, not with her.

His chest rose and fell as he gripped the phone a little tighter, the truth finally sinking in.

"Seriously? Are you sure?" Michael asked, leaning forward.

"Itdoeslook like her," Larry admitted, squinting at the screen. "But only her back is showing. Are you sure it's her?"

Lorenzo’s voice dropped, intense. “If I slept with her that night at the hotel... then that child... it’s mine?” The words rushed out of him in a single breath, disbelief warring with something deeper—something raw.

In the next second, he was on his feet, storming out of the bar.

***

"I’m so sorry. How are you now?" Krystal asked over the video call, her eyes on the bruises lining Damion’s face. They weren’t as bad as she’d feared, but still...

"I’m fine," Damion replied calmly. "They look worse than they feel."

Krystal let out a soft breath, relieved.

Kara scooted closer to the camera, eyes narrowed. “What about the baby? Whose is it?”

"There’sno baby!” Krystal walked over to the dining table and sat down with a tired sigh. “I was just messing around with a random report I found at the hospital that belonged to another woman who had the same name as me. I don’t even know who told Lorenzo I was pregnant, but he believed it and then he completely lost his damn mind.”

Damion frowned, one arm going around Kara’s shoulder as he pulled her closer. “Krystal... you need to tell him the truth. Things have already gotten too far.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Krystal mumbled, her fingers curling on the table. “We’re not getting back together anyway. It doesn’t matter what he thinks about me.”

“Krystal,” Damion said gently. “You shouldn’t lie about something like that. Pregnancy isn’t a joke. And besides...” He paused. “Maybe this could be a turning point. Don’t you love him already?”

Krystal stiffened.

Before she could respond, the front door slammed open.

Krystal’s phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the table. She barely managed to press the hang-up button before spinning around.

Lorenzo stormed into the apartment.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath. She’d forgotten to lock the door after Darren left for a party.

She shot up from the chair, but Lorenzo was already charging toward her. In a flash, he caught her wrists in one hand and wrapped the other around her waist, dragging her backward until her spine hit the wall with a dull thud.

Before she could say a word, his mouth was on hers—rough, hungry, furious.

Krystal gasped in shock, lips parting from instinct, and he took full advantage. His tongue forced its way inside her mouth with no hesitation, dominating the kiss like it was a punishment. But it wasn’t painful. It was desperate. Unhinged. Possessive.

His body pressed against hers, hard and hot, pinning her completely between him and the cold wall. His hand on her waist slid up her side, fingers digging into her ribs.

The kiss deepened, his mouth moving over hers with raw aggression, and she tasted everything in him—alcohol, desire, rage. His lips were warm and demanding, moving over hers in a rhythm that made her toes curl despite everything in her screaming to push him away.

She whimpered into his mouth.

His teeth grazed her lower lip, biting just enough to sting before sucking it between his lips. He kissed her like he wanted to erase every bit of distance between them.

Krystal’s wrists twisted in his grip, but he didn’t loosen it. He pulled back only slightly, giving her a fraction of space—just enough for her to gasp for air.

Her eyes fluttered open, and what she saw made her chest tighten.