Page 52 of Lorenzo

“Was Genevieve alive when you left?”

His face closes immediately.

“Yes,” he says tightly.

“What was she doing?”

“She was standing by the bed. She was putting her dress back on.”

“What color was her dress?”

“Red,” he answers automatically.

Red is usually a color people wear to be noticed. I keep that to myself for now.

“Was she injured?”

“No.”

“Upset?”

“No.”

“Afraid?”

“No.”

“Did you help her zip her dress back up?”

He looks thrown by my question.

“Umm, no, actually. I didn’t.” He furrows his brows.

Interesting. According to the report I got my hands on, her dress was zipped up when they found her.

I walk him through the rest of the night, from the time he left the room, down to the lobby, and all the way back to his house, up until the moment the police came knocking at the door.

When I'm done, I gather my notes and slide them into the folder.

“What's the next step?” Lorenzo asks.

“I would like to speak to the cousins who were there that night,” I say. “I want to know what they saw, if anything.”

His gaze meets mine.

“They’ll cooperate.”

I nod and turn to Julian. “You have your part of it, but I'm going to do a deep dive on this Genevieve Sorel and see what I can find.”

Alessio was looking down at his hands. This is a man who has grown up in a very dangerous family, and though he is very young, I don't let that fool me. I know exactly who he is and where he comes from.

But right now, sitting here looking dejected, I can't help but feel for him. He went out for a night of fun, and his whole world changed.

“I thought she liked me,” he says quietly.

The words are quieter than anything he has said since I began.

Lorenzo’s posture changes, though he does not move toward him.