Lorenzo's POV

My phone buzzed a few times in my pocket.

But I didn't have time to deal with it.

I was using the tip of my mud-soaked shoe to roughly lift an Irish lieutenant's chin.

"Tell your boss what happens when you sell shit on Vittori territory!"

He raised his face and spat at me.

I backhanded him with a punch.

A tooth immediately flew out of his mouth, mixing with the rainwater on the ground and flowing into the Brooklyn back-alley drain.

I dialed my old man's video call.

"Dad, the Brooklyn trouble's been handled."

I pointed the phone at the piece of trash on the ground.

The old man on the screen was silent for three seconds.

"Who gave you permission?"

I used my thumb to wipe off the blood splatter on the back of my hand.

"They were organizing underage prostitution in Brooklyn, breaking the rules! You taught me that when someone breaks the rules, they should—"

"Who the fuck do you think you are? A Made Man?!"

The old man suddenly roared, the phone emitting a sharp electric buzz.

I pressed my tongue against my cheek and said nothing.

"You haven't been formally inducted yet, it's not your place to act on your own!"

He gritted his teeth, as if he wanted to bite through my neck across the screen.

"The Irish will take this as provocation, they'll definitely retaliate!"

"Maybe at your regular restaurant, maybe in your bedroom!"

"I—"

"Shut the fuck up! Get your ass back here right now!"

I stood in the rain, staring at the darkened phone screen.

Something was churning in my stomach.

Not fear, but some kind of sickening thing that made me want to vomit.

It was always like this.

If I went too far, it was my fault.

If I didn't act, that was also my fault!

In his eyes, no matter what I did, I could never measure up to that damn Tore!

Yeah, Tore took a bullet for him at nineteen!

As the son of Underboss Francesco Bianchi, Tore embodied all the old man's expectations for an heir!

But if I had been there... I would have taken that bullet too!

I yanked open the car door with a cold face and got in the back seat. The driver immediately cranked the heat to maximum.

The warmth of the leather seat seeped through my soaked pants, making me uncomfortable all over.

"Back to the hillside villa."

The car drove onto the Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan's neon lights blurring into a smear through the rain and fog.

I pressed my forehead hard against the cold car window.

A scene from my seventh birthday suddenly flashed through my mind.

Mother stood in front of the cake, warm yellow candlelight illuminating her face.

"Lorenzo, Mommy swears she'll never leave you."

Bullshit.

A few days later, she took all her valuables and left only a note on her vanity: I'm sorry.

Forever?

That word was so fucking cheap.

Back at the Vittori family estate.

I ignored the butler in the living room and went straight down to the boxing room on the basement level.

I tore off my sticky wet clothes and threw them on the floor.

Shirtless, I wrapped my hands, put on my gloves, and went straight at the punching bag.

After just a few hits, my knuckles started going numb and sore.

Sweat ran down my temples into my eyes, stinging so badly I couldn't keep them open.

"Fucker."

I clenched my back teeth and landed a heavy punch on the side of the bag.

The entire bag swung horizontally, the chain making a harsh scraping sound.

"You think you can control me?"

Half an hour later, I stopped, gasping for breath, my forehead against the soaked bag, and threw my gear on the floor.

Light footsteps sounded behind me.

Elizabeth walked up to me carrying a glass of ice water and holding a clean white towel.

I stared at the loose linen loungewear she was wearing, my brow furrowing involuntarily.

That damn linen completely hid her beautiful breasts.

It was common knowledge that women's breasts enlarged during breastfeeding, but you couldn't tell at all with her.

She wasn't even wearing those black silk camisoles anymore—afraid the old man would scold her for being indecent?

The old bastard was so old-fashioned!

"Fighting with your father again?"

I took the towel from her hand and roughly wiped my face.

"He was fighting unilaterally."

"Are you hungry? I can make you a bowl of meat sauce pasta."

She stepped back half a step, considerately giving me space.

"Or we could go out? There's a new Italian restaurant nearby, the chef's from Naples, the white truffle risotto and beef Wellington are both excellent."

I touched my empty stomach. "Okay, let's go out."

An hour later, she and I sat facing each other in a private room at an upscale restaurant.

Elizabeth held sterling silver cutlery, elegantly cutting the pan-seared veal on her plate without making a sound.

The aroma of truffles and butter filled the table.

I took a bite of steak, my gaze uncontrollably moving past the wine glass to land on her lips.

The curve of her lips was absolutely perfect, her chewing motion extremely light, elegant like a queen.

Just then, the phone in my pocket vibrated.

I frowned and pulled out my phone to see three identical text messages from the same number.

[Hello, it's me, Scarlett.]

[May I ask... when is the next service?]

[If possible, I hope... as soon as possible.]

"A new girl you met?" Elizabeth leaned forward slightly, her gaze curiously sweeping across my phone screen.

I turned off the screen and tossed the phone on the table.

"Not really."

She smiled with her eyes crinkling. "I thought our cold Lorenzo had finally figured it out and would start dating."

I pulled at the corner of my mouth. "Just a plaything."

At yesterday's family banquet, Father had compared me to Tore in front of everyone again.

His expression was stern, but his hand dishonestly reached into Elizabeth's skirt!

Dirty old man!

Watching Elizabeth's cheeks grow redder and redder, her crimson lips slightly parted, I really couldn't stand it anymore and left early.

I called Andrew to meet me at Nonna's for drinks.

If not for that, I wouldn't have run into that woman called Lettie.

Actually, that wasn't our first meeting.

I don't remember when exactly, but I had encountered her outside the police station.

At the time, her lips were bruised, as if someone had hit her, and she was at the police station filing a report, seeking protection.

In the moonlight, the way she hung her head reminded me a lot of Elizabeth.

Until last night, when she was covered in that sweet milk-stain smell and I roughly penetrated her.

She trembled the whole time, tears and snot everywhere, ruining my silk pillowcase.

At first she tried to act tough with me, lying that she came to buy medicine.

And then?

Half an hour later, she was obediently on all fours beneath me!

Fucked until she screamed for mercy, her eyes full of fear and hatred, but she had no choice but to follow my demands and call my name over and over.

Her voice hoarse, stiff, ugly as hell.

"Lorenzo?"

Elizabeth's call pulled me back to reality.

"Why did you suddenly zone out?"

"Nothing." I took a sip of red wine. "Thinking about how to make those Irish bastards in Brooklyn shut up for good."

"With guns?" She picked up her napkin and dabbed her lips.

"No, we stopped being those kind of street savages a long time ago."

"That's right." Elizabeth looked at me, her pale green eyes bright.

"Learn more from your father's legal team, their methods of reshuffling and annexing kill without bloodshed."

"I am learning."

I crossed my hands on the table, my back straight.

"Family men can't be held back by useless emotions, that's more lethal than an enemy's bullet."

Elizabeth was beautiful, elegant, noble—every part of her hit my aesthetic preferences.

Too bad she was legally my stepmother.

That broke Scarlett, though just a knockoff, was still pretty comfortable to fuck.

What the hell!

How many times had I thought about her today?

I frowned irritably and sent her an address on my phone.

[In one hour, wait at Kowalski Avenue, I'll have the driver bring clothes and a wig to pick you up.]

[After you're dressed up, go to this location immediately. One minute late, minus five hundred!]