“I’m not hungry.” As I turned my back on her, I felt her eyes on me until I heard the soft click of her heels leading out of the room. I blew out air on a long exhale. Even though I ached to feel her in my arms again, I resisted. Her cryptic call and message had prepared me for some bizarre meeting, yet it had nothing on discovering that Lorenzo—the one man I’d learned to trust without meaning to—was not only responsible for kidnapping her but the father of her child.
That was like a major blow of gigantic proportions and I had no idea how to handle it. The pain radiating through me, a chaotic burn of resentment and despair, squeezed my insides. Bile climbed up my throat, souring the insides of my mouth and making me cringe. I’d come here with the intention of giving her my heart again. Only, it seemed like destiny had its own plan—to send me scurrying back home with my heart in tatters, once more. I stared out the window, wondering if it would ever be whole again.
Raking a hand through my hair, I gave into the tears, hoping they would soothe my soul, bring me the calm I was desperate for since hearing Zena was alive. I was fucking exhausted. It’d had been months, clinging to hope, clinging to the knowledge that I’d be happy again. I’d wasted hours not sleeping, barely eating, searching—for what—the agony of having my heart broken. Again.
Was I like a wimp magnate for heartbreak? Did I not deserve love? Had my name missed cupid’s recommendations?
Maybe I’d done some serious shit in my previous life and destiny was intent on making me pay, by denying me love, making me walk on that precipice of hope before yanking the rug from under me, every single time love bloomed.
Breathing hard, to fight the pain in my chest, the ache in my belly and the tension in my muscles from holding my body too tight, I hit the wall. My knuckles burned on impact. I didn’t care. Clenching it, I made my way toward the bedroom. Even though I craved sleep, I didn’t think it would come easy.
I woke to the feel of the bed dipping behind me. Vaguely aware I might’ve been asleep for not more than five minutes, I squinted at the bedside clock. Fuck. Did I really sleep for twelve hours? Maybe Zena and Lorenzo’s lies had taken its toll on me or maybe some divine power decided I needed the rest.
I rolled over to find Lorenzo sitting on the bed, his blue eyes watching me intently. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I bit out on instinct.
My belligerent tone did nothing and he replied, “Zena mentioned you hadn’t eaten. I brought you something to eat.” He gestured to the tray sitting on the bedside table.
“I’m not hungry.” I turned my back on him.
He didn’t move, his slow breathing the only sound in the surrounding silence. “I know you’re angry, Rayden but you need to eat something.” I ignored him. “Would you like me to feed you?” Only someone who knew him well, would pick up the subtle playfulness in his tone.
“I’m not a fucking baby,” I snarled.
I heard him stand and walk around the bed to look at me. “Then stop fucking behaving like one,” he reproached.
“Go away, old man, you’re not my father.” Despite my irritation, his low chuckle curved my lips in a small smile.
“Trust me, being your father is the last thing I want unless...” he trailed off.
Curiosity got the better of me and I lifted my head. Even in the semi-darkness, with his hands in his pants pockets and head titled to one side, he cut an imposing figure.
“Unless what?” I pushed.
He held my gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable as usual. Wordlessly, he turned and walked away. At the door, he paused then glanced over his shoulder. “I’m forty, Rayden and you’ve seen my cock in action, still think I’m an old man?” His brow shot up before he left the room.
Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling wondering when exactly Lorenzo and I had become friends. Going by how we picked up where we left off, anyone looking in and didn’t know about the kidnapping, would assume he and I knew each other well. We didn’t. Not in the normal sense that is. His abrupt appearance, more so his ability to comfort me was strangely welcomed. I’d been at my most vulnerable today and probably the desperation for a shoulder to cry on, the only reason I appreciated his care.
During my short time with him, he’d offered lessons that stayed with me over the years and maybe I had him to thank for the tough arrogance I now possessed. Only this time, it was different. He’d gone a step too far. He’d stolen from me. Made Zena his while I’d lived in agony. She could never belong to me now. They had a child together, a bond I could never break. Yet, deep down I knew, that all logic would soon fail me. What he’d done to me was unforgiveable and I intended to make him pay. He might be a mafia boss, but I was no less cocky than the first time he met me. Now and after all the shit I’d gone through, I planned to take without asking.
Zena was mine.
My stomach gave a sudden rumble, reminding me the last meal I’d fed it was a meagre breakfast of coffee and two health bars that morning. I glanced over at the tray on the bedside table and moved closer.
Lifting the lid, I couldn’t stop the low laugh. “Thanks, old man.” I reached for a slice of the pepperoni pizza he’d previously made for me. I’d been his young captive then and I might be his captive once again, but fuck the pizza still tasted good.
