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My grip didn’t loosen on the gun even as I measured his sincerity. Cristian hadn’t spoken about him. I hadn’t asked. But if Cristian had even suspected that Lorenzo was thinking of hurting me, he wouldn’t be breathing let alone standing here. Felix was around here somewhere too. I’d felt his eyes when I walked in, sensed his presence in the shadows. But he didn’t exactly have a good track record with damsels in distress.
Then again, I wasn’t exactly a damsel.
I watched Lorenzo carefully. He wasn’t armed. He didn’t have a murderous glint in his eye, wasn’t cloaked in anger and bitterness as he had been.
“I won’t hurt you.” He watched as I took stock of him.
“No,” I agreed. “You won’t. I won’t let you.”
Lorenzo grinned. “Cristian has truly found his match. I’m glad.”
I scowled. “Glad? You made it quite clear you despise my fiancé during our last encounter. The one where you forced yourself on me and punched me.”
Lorenzo flinched visibly, and I was glad. He deserved for that to haunt him.
“I hated myself,” he admitted, almost meekly. “Have for many years. It’s much easier to project that hate instead of face it. Cristian was easy to hate.” He exhaled a long breath. “It is much harder to admit I love him.”
“He cut off your hand, yet you love him?” My tone was saturated with disbelief.
He chuckled. The sound was light. Pleasing almost. Everything about him was a stark departure from the man who’d tried to rape me only months ago.
“When you put it like that, it sounds insane.” He looked down at the hook in place of his hand. “But I was insane before. Driven by greed, jealousy, grief. I hated everyone, my parents, Cristian ... myself. It was going to kill me, that hate. Cristian had every right to kill me. It would not have been his fault. Just mine. It would’ve destroyed my parents. And they’re good people. The best. What they’ve gone through to build this, what they have lost...” He trailed off as his eyes turned glassy.
The emotion in his voice was palpable. The shame.
It could’ve been an act, to be sure. Underneath, he could be scheming, biding his time until he caught Cristian off guard to get his revenge. But I doubted it. Very few people could fake sincerity like that. And of the few who could, I knew Cristian would see right through them.
I trusted him to keep me safe. Trusted him with my life. Such a huge change compared to my feelings only two months ago, when I hated him, was convinced he was going to be the end of me, when I wanted him dead.
A lot could change in a short time. Hate was not always forever. Though it seemed like stone in the beginning, it crumbled quickly, unveiling something entirely different.
“I have brought shame to my family.” Lorenzo’s voice was more solid. “My sister would’ve been ashamed of me. Of what I let her death turn me into.” His eyes met mine, unwavering. “She would not like the man Cristian has turned into either, but she would understand that there was no other path for him. She would be happy he has you. You are good for this family. Though I don’t expect you to like me or forgive me, I hope with time you may understand me.” His lips curled up in a weak smile. “You have influence over him. I can see that. If you wish, he will kill me. Banish me. I wish to attend your wedding. To find a way back into this family. I will not threaten Cristian’s title. I do not want it.” His eyes darted away. “I do not and will not deserve it in this lifetime. I accept that. I am at your mercy.”
Silence descended over us, thick and heavy with expectation. I could’ve shot him between the eyes—I was getting rather good thanks to three-time weekly sessions at the range—and no one would question me. Resent me. He’d proven himself to be a scoundrel.
I didn’t think second chances were afforded in this life, yet I suspected Lorenzo had had many. Nor was I a particularly merciful person.
“If you do anything to threaten this family, I will kill you myself,” I promised.
He smiled again, looking rather handsome, if that could be believed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The Next Day
I was standing in my wedding dress, shaking.
The fear didn’t make any sense. I was not some innocent virgin who hadn’t been touched by her fiancé. My fiancé had touched me, fucked me every way a woman could be fucked. I had no innocence left.
Marriage was just a piece of paper. I believed that, didn’t I? There was no room for romance in my life. I’d been engaged to Pete for almost three years, and I hadn’t so much as picked up a bridal magazine. Barely had had a single thought for the wedding, and whenever I did think about it, I was filled with dread and broke out in hives.
