LORENZO
I blew out smoke gently from my lips and crushed the burning cigar beneath my leather shoes.
I wished I could be as cold hearted as my papà, Zach Vellani, and shoot at whatever the fuck I hated but that was impossible.
I didn't have the heart to kill. I had my mammà's heart. And for that, I was a misfit in my papà's eyes.
You wouldn't understand what living under someone's shadow can do to you until you're there.
My papà—the only man who didn't fail to remind me how much of a mistake I was—just crossed the fucking line by asking me to apologize to Cassian Moretti.
Beyond the white gate and expensive suits, most men who walked into the Vellani estate came here just to make deals on trafficking operations.
Out in the open, we were the classic white-picket-family, but beyond those gates, my papà's wealth came from illegal ventures.
My papà had a fondness for comparing me with Cassian Moretti since I pissed in my pants during my first shooting lesson at seven.
At fifteen, I'd fucking gagged watching him cut off a man's balls for stealing from him.
Since then, I'd been declared a fucking pussy, and a living misfit for the family business—my mammà's sin, and a shame my papà didn't want the public eyes to see—but being this drop-dead handsome, I couldn't avoid the media.
My papà idolized the Moretti heir. It was more like he wished Cassian Moretti was his son and I was fucking dead with bullet holes in my skull.
And his life's goal had been to mold Karen, my half-sister into his tool for alliance with the Morettis'.
How romantic.
My jaw tightened as venom crawled through my veins at the thought.
So you see, I can't help but hate that arsehole—Cassian Moretti—who had no idea he was making my life a living hell just by existing and being himself: a fucking cold hearted bastard who had more blood on his hands than the worst criminals in Lake Como and Shales Haven.
I was on my way to his office to tender an apology for 'allegedly insulting him' because I'd said the truth my papà was too blind to see. I had an abundance of reasons why I hated Cassian Moretti.
The urge to drink almost choked me.
I felt something collide into me. My gaze dropped down as she stepped back, muttered a sorry that was anything but sorry and disappeared through the elevator.
It didn't take long for the apology to get over with. I figured somehow, Cassian Moretti didn't give a shit about me.
And the feeling was mutual.
And when I'd mentioned the girl—of course I had to, I found her on his property—I'd heard the silent warning in Nico's voice and something dark flicker across Cassian's face.
They weren't having a threesome, right?
Nevertheless, that wasn't going to stop me because that red-bird suddenly had my attention in a way no other girl in Lake Como city ever had.
_____—---°°—---______
I'd waited in the car for her all day. I know that was stupid and right now I was one of those idiotic male characters Karen watched and blushed over on telenovela.
Papà's package he'd asked me to pick up was seated in the backseat.
I was practically up to my neck with thoughts on what papà would think considering he'd tried to reach me. My phone was dead.
But there was only one thing my mind was focused on.
Ayla Thorne, of course.
And as if aligning with my thoughts, she ran past the car towards the bus shelter.
I watched her. Watched her fucking wet.
The way she'd stood there, dripping water to the concrete while staring into the empty sky, like she could make the rain stop with that innocent expression on her face made my entire body feel warm in a way I'd never felt.
She was beautiful. Like a character pulled out of one of the books I'd read because Karen bought things she never liked.
I drove forward.
And just as I'd expected. She acted like I was a bloody pest she wished she could crush.
She was different.
I'd never made an effort to get a girl. Women always loved me, but Ayla— the cold stare she threw in my direction even as I stood under the rain, somehow dug under my skin.
Frustration clawed at my chest and it took more than an hour! More than an hour to get her into my own damn car.
I dropped her home before returning to the Vellani estate.
I just wanted to do right by her.
….____—--^^----____
The sound of a bullet rolled out from my papà's study the moment I walked through the front door.
Karen was downstairs, face pale as shit.
Bang.
Another bullet sound rang out, followed by the deep groaning of a man.
Zach Vellani never killed in his study unless he was pissed, which was rare.
"You're wet!" Karen said, her knees propped up.
"That's obvious. Who's he mad at?" I said, eye pointing to the study.
"You." She said, her lips tight. "You were supposed to bring the package home immediately, remember?"
I sighed, an aloof countenance warmed my face.
"Don Moretti' s a bit pissed at papà, and now papà's mad at you."
I gave a nonchalant shrug. "Who's he shooting at?"
Before she had time to answer, the door to Papa's study opened, Italian curses rolled off his lips the moment he spotted me.
"Where is it?!" He roared coming down,
I let the envelope drop to the floor. "There." I rolled my eyes lazily, and something dark filled my spine..
At this moment, I knew I could kill him if he laid a finger on me.
He stopped. The darkness in his eyes mirrored the darkness in my heart.
"Son of a bitch." He slurred, releasing a finger from the trigger. "You're a fucking waste like your mamma!"
The urge to shoot his fucking brains out till it splattered across the hallway forced a smug smile on my face.
But I didn't have the bulls to do it.
"Karena pick up the package!" Papà ordered, his gaze not wavering from mine.
Karen did, placing it into his shaky hand.
I knew he mentally had a bullet hole drilled into my skull. I could feel the intensity of his hate and it fueled my boldness.
He turned and stormed off.
"What has gotten into you?" Karen's cold hands grabbed mine. "What were you thinking standing up to him?"
"What I should have done a long time ago when that bastard pulled a trigger into your mammà's heart." I deadpanned. "The devil's finally given birth to his kind."
"Enzo!" Karen cried.
"Go to bed, Karen. You need a clear head tomorrow." I said, and disappeared through the stairs.