Page 71
Story: Lorenzo's Claim
“No, I want to see my daughter,” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
The man to his right stepped forward, raising his gun as if to threaten me, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I noticed every clumsy movement he made. I raised my weapon faster, the gunshot echoing the walls as the bullet ripped through his kneecap.
“I’m giving you one more chance to choose: leave freely or in hacked up pieces.” I kept my gun raised as he took less than a second to decide.
“This isn’t over, Lorenzo. I will see my daughter. You can’t keep me away.”
“Believe me—I can and I will.” I turned my back to him, my eyes locking with Red’s. “Show Victor and his men out. They aren’t welcome in my house.”
“Boss.” Red nodded, already carrying out his task.
I wasted no time in racing back upstairs to Anastacia, who was still asleep. I settled into the chair beside the bed, picking up the ring to continue where I left off. I slid it back onto her bare finger, dried blood still staining her skin.
“I’ll be better for you,” I whispered, kissing her knuckles. “I swear it.”
“L-Lorenzo?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
“Shh, I’m here, go back to sleep.” I stroked her hair as she turned to face me, letting sleep overcome her yet again.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, calling the one person I knew would be able to help me.
“Lorenzo, thank God!” my mother cried from the other end. “Please tell me you found her.”
“I did. She’s here…but I need you.”
“I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone, stopping what she was doing to come to my aid, just as she always did.
22
After what feltlike a lifetime of sleep, I finally began to come around. My body throbbed and ached all over, and I dreaded seeing how I looked after that ordeal. With every ounce of strength I had left, I forced my eyes open, the soft lighting of the bedroom making it easier to come around.
Of course I was in Lorenzo’s bedroom and not my own. It was a stark contrast to mine, enveloped in shadows and simplicity. The walls were painted a deep charcoal, absorbing the light and giving the space a cozy yet mysterious ambiance. Sparse furnishings adorned the room, with only a sleek, black dresser and a minimalist wooden desk standing against the walls. Heavy, dark curtains hung over the windows, keeping any unwanted light at bay.
I turned my head carefully as pain surged through me, almost taking my breath away. My gaze landed on Lorenzo, he rubbed his eyes wearily as he sat perched on the edge of the chair, hunched forward, not realising I’d woken up. His hair was disheveled, and the stubble on his chin was more pronounced than usual.
“L-Lorenzo,” I whispered, my throat dry and raspy.
“Ana,” he breathed, his eyes brightening instantly as he looked up at me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m f-fine,” I lied, unsure whether he believed me or not.
I didn’t want him to see my weakness. Not after everything. I had to put on a front. I had to show him I wasn’t going to let them break me, despite the days of torture, beatings and endless hours of fear and humiliation that still clung to me like a second skin.
“Don’t lie to me, please.” He sighed, pleading with me, but I couldn’t let him in. I couldn’t let him know how I felt on the inside. It was bad enough he had to see the outside.
“Honestly, I’m just sore, that’s all.” I glanced down at my wrists, and I wished I hadn’t. Angry red marks encircled them like tight bands, a vivid reminder of the struggle. The sight made my stomach twist into knots, nausea rising as I quickly looked away.
Lorenzo’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as regret etched onto his face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I tried everything to find you,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.
He retrieved a bottle of water on the side table, bringing the straw to my lips to help me drink. “It’s okay. You thought I walked out on you.” I touched his hand, trying to soothe away his guilt in some way.
I painted on a fake smile as the recent events replayed in my mind—the soundtrack of my voice, the hundreds of photos, and my own whimpers when I was alone. I didn’t know how long it’d take for me to forget all of that, but if I had to guess, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.
I thought that day was the end for me. Chad was completely unhinged, talking about how we’d have one another in the next life as we weren’t meant to be together in this one, but when Lorenzo stormed into that room, I knew that everything wasgoing to be okay, and I would have another chance at life. A do-over at being happy.
“I knew you never walked out on me, Ana. We all knew it.” He squeezed my hand. “My mother is here to help get you cleaned up. I didn’t think you’d want me to offer my services for that so soon.” His worry and care was something I had never seen with him before. It was as if the current events had changed him a little. Sure, we still had plenty to discuss, but right now, I couldn’t think about anything other than recovering.
Carmella appeared at the door, making her way over to us. She placed her hand on Lorenzo’s shoulder. Even if she was shocked and horrified by my appearance, she hid it well as she offered me the kindest smile without an ounce of pity.
The man to his right stepped forward, raising his gun as if to threaten me, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I noticed every clumsy movement he made. I raised my weapon faster, the gunshot echoing the walls as the bullet ripped through his kneecap.
“I’m giving you one more chance to choose: leave freely or in hacked up pieces.” I kept my gun raised as he took less than a second to decide.
“This isn’t over, Lorenzo. I will see my daughter. You can’t keep me away.”
“Believe me—I can and I will.” I turned my back to him, my eyes locking with Red’s. “Show Victor and his men out. They aren’t welcome in my house.”
“Boss.” Red nodded, already carrying out his task.
I wasted no time in racing back upstairs to Anastacia, who was still asleep. I settled into the chair beside the bed, picking up the ring to continue where I left off. I slid it back onto her bare finger, dried blood still staining her skin.
“I’ll be better for you,” I whispered, kissing her knuckles. “I swear it.”
“L-Lorenzo?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
“Shh, I’m here, go back to sleep.” I stroked her hair as she turned to face me, letting sleep overcome her yet again.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, calling the one person I knew would be able to help me.
“Lorenzo, thank God!” my mother cried from the other end. “Please tell me you found her.”
“I did. She’s here…but I need you.”
“I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone, stopping what she was doing to come to my aid, just as she always did.
22
After what feltlike a lifetime of sleep, I finally began to come around. My body throbbed and ached all over, and I dreaded seeing how I looked after that ordeal. With every ounce of strength I had left, I forced my eyes open, the soft lighting of the bedroom making it easier to come around.
Of course I was in Lorenzo’s bedroom and not my own. It was a stark contrast to mine, enveloped in shadows and simplicity. The walls were painted a deep charcoal, absorbing the light and giving the space a cozy yet mysterious ambiance. Sparse furnishings adorned the room, with only a sleek, black dresser and a minimalist wooden desk standing against the walls. Heavy, dark curtains hung over the windows, keeping any unwanted light at bay.
I turned my head carefully as pain surged through me, almost taking my breath away. My gaze landed on Lorenzo, he rubbed his eyes wearily as he sat perched on the edge of the chair, hunched forward, not realising I’d woken up. His hair was disheveled, and the stubble on his chin was more pronounced than usual.
“L-Lorenzo,” I whispered, my throat dry and raspy.
“Ana,” he breathed, his eyes brightening instantly as he looked up at me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m f-fine,” I lied, unsure whether he believed me or not.
I didn’t want him to see my weakness. Not after everything. I had to put on a front. I had to show him I wasn’t going to let them break me, despite the days of torture, beatings and endless hours of fear and humiliation that still clung to me like a second skin.
“Don’t lie to me, please.” He sighed, pleading with me, but I couldn’t let him in. I couldn’t let him know how I felt on the inside. It was bad enough he had to see the outside.
“Honestly, I’m just sore, that’s all.” I glanced down at my wrists, and I wished I hadn’t. Angry red marks encircled them like tight bands, a vivid reminder of the struggle. The sight made my stomach twist into knots, nausea rising as I quickly looked away.
Lorenzo’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as regret etched onto his face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I tried everything to find you,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.
He retrieved a bottle of water on the side table, bringing the straw to my lips to help me drink. “It’s okay. You thought I walked out on you.” I touched his hand, trying to soothe away his guilt in some way.
I painted on a fake smile as the recent events replayed in my mind—the soundtrack of my voice, the hundreds of photos, and my own whimpers when I was alone. I didn’t know how long it’d take for me to forget all of that, but if I had to guess, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.
I thought that day was the end for me. Chad was completely unhinged, talking about how we’d have one another in the next life as we weren’t meant to be together in this one, but when Lorenzo stormed into that room, I knew that everything wasgoing to be okay, and I would have another chance at life. A do-over at being happy.
“I knew you never walked out on me, Ana. We all knew it.” He squeezed my hand. “My mother is here to help get you cleaned up. I didn’t think you’d want me to offer my services for that so soon.” His worry and care was something I had never seen with him before. It was as if the current events had changed him a little. Sure, we still had plenty to discuss, but right now, I couldn’t think about anything other than recovering.
Carmella appeared at the door, making her way over to us. She placed her hand on Lorenzo’s shoulder. Even if she was shocked and horrified by my appearance, she hid it well as she offered me the kindest smile without an ounce of pity.
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