MasukCHAPTER FOUR: THE CORNER TIGHTENS
Louis walked into St. Jude's with a heavy heart and a lighter wallet. The candy in his hand…cheap lollipops, the kind Chloe pretended to hate…felt pathetic, but it was all he could afford now. All he could afford ever now, apparently. Three jobs gone in one week. Fired for "restructuring." or "budget cuts. or "reasons we can't really explain." Each excuse weirder than the last. The coffee shop, the warehouse, even the janitor gig that had taken him back after the server room incident. All of them, poof, like the wind of bad luck had hit him hard this week. Something was wrong. He could feel it, but he was too tired to figure out what. He pushed open Chloe's door, forcing a smile onto his face. The smile died the moment he saw the face that sat beside her. Lorenzo Volterra was in the chair next to Chloe's bed. Her small hand was wrapped in his huge one. He was reading to her…a picture book, in broken English. "...and then the little bear say, 'Who sleep in my bed?'" Lorenzo looked up at Chloe for approval. Chloe giggled. "You're funny." Lorenzo smiled, a real smile, soft and warm, nothing like the intense predator from Louis's apartment. "You are funny too, piccola." Louis saw red instantly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Lorenzo turned, and his face lit up, actually lit up, like Louis was the sun emerging from clouds. "Ah! Mio gattino." He stood, crossing toward Louis with open arms. "See who is here. Hello…" "Don't 'hello' me!" Louis shoved past him, positioning himself between Lorenzo and Chloe's bed. "What the hell are you doing near my sister?!" Lorenzo blinked, genuinely confused. "I... wanted to see her. She is family now." "Louis!" Chloe's voice cut through, small but sharp. "Stop yelling. He brought me books and he reads funny but it's nice. He told me he's your friend." Louis whirled on her. "You don't understand. This man is..he's…" Chloe tilted her head, wise beyond her years. "He's your fiancé, right? The nurse said you're getting married." Louis's mouth opened but no words came out. "No. No, we are NOT…" "He's cute," Chloe continued, ignoring him completely. "In a scary way, like a wolf in a suit." Lorenzo beamed. "I like her." "That's it!." Louis grabbed Lorenzo's arm, surprised at how solid it was, how warm, and dragged him toward the door. "We're leaving. Now." Lorenzo went willingly, almost happily because Louis had his hands on him, glancing back at Chloe. "I come again, piccola, with more books." Louis pulled Lorenzo into the hallway and slammed the door behind them. "What is wrong with you?!" He kept his voice low…nurses, patients, he wasn't a monster…but the fury shook through every word. "You can't just show up here! You can't talk to her! She's twelve years old and sick and you…you're…" Lorenzo's face shifted. The warmth faded into something softer, almost pitiful. "I was nice." He spread his hands, confused. "I bring gifts. I read book. What more you want me to do?" "I want you to stay away!" "But she is..." Lorenzo searched for words. "She is you. Small you. With less angry." He paused. "I like her." Louis ran both hands through his hair, pacing. "This is insane. You're insane. You show up at my door, you pay my debts…" Lorenzo's expression didn't change, he finds everything about Louis’s reaction interesting. "..and now you're stalking my sister?!" Louis stopped pacing, faced him. "This doesn't make sense. Any of it. I'm not…I don't…" He gestured vaguely between them. "I'm not into guys. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not me and you…you're a Billionaire. You could have anyone. Why are you doing this?!" For a moment, Lorenzo was still. Then something shifted. His face didn't change exactly. But the air around him did. Got heavier and darker. His eyes, those glacier blues, went flat. "I try nice." His voice was quiet. Too terrifyingly quiet. "I try patient. I try gifts. I try everything I know." He stepped closer. Louis stepped back. "And still you say no. Still you push. Still you look at me like I am... monster." Lorenzo's hand came up fast and violent, slamming Louis hard against the wall, hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. "You don't understand," Lorenzo said, each word careful, deliberate. "This is not choice. Not for you or for me." His other hand covered his own eyes for a moment…temple, brow, a drag through his hair. When he looked at Louis again, something was different behind his eyes. "I still be nice," he whispered. "But you don't listen. So now... I stop asking." Louis couldn't breathe. Not from fear…well, maybe from fear…but also from the sheer weight of Lorenzo's presence. He was everywhere. Too close…too big and just too much. "You have no job now." Lorenzo said it like a fact. Like the weather. "All of them. Gone. You wonder why?" Louis's blood ran cold. "What?" "I buy them." Lorenzo's voice stayed calm, even. "Every place you work. Every little odd job. All mine now. All gone for you." Louis stared at him, the words not quite making sense at first. Then they hit. All of them…The coffee shop…The warehouse. The janitor gig that had taken him back. Every single one. He bought them…All of them. Just to take them away from Louis. "You..." Louis's voice cracked. "You can't…" "I can…When it’s you…" Lorenzo leaned closer, his breath ghosting across Louis's cheek. "I can do anything. That is what money means. That is what I mean." Louis's mind raced. How long had this been happening? How many jobs had he lost because of this man? How far did this obsession go? He pulled back just enough to meet Louis's eyes. His expression wasn't angry. It was worse. It was certain. "I give you days. Two. Three. I don't know." He shrugged. "Then you come. You sign, little American." "And if I don't?" Louis tried to muster courage he didn't feel. Lorenzo smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Your sister is really nice. I like her. Would be shame if..." He trailed off, let the silence finish the sentence. Louis saw red. "If you touch her…" "I don't touch." Lorenzo's voice dropped, almost gentle. "I don't need to touch. I just... stop paying. For hospital or medicine. For everything." He tilted his head. "You think about that, mio gattino." He leaned in and pressed his lips to Louis's cheek. A peck. Soft and almost tender. Then he pulled back, smile back in place, warmth returned like the last thirty seconds never happened. "I wait for you," he said gently. "Come when you ready." He walked away. Anya, standing frozen at the end of the hall, scrambled to catch up. Her heels clicked against the tile, frantic. "Signor Volterra…that was too much. The sister? You threatened the sister? He'll never…" Lorenzo didn't slow down, didn't turn around to look at her. "You fall behind," he said quietly. "You supposed to convince him. You are not doing your job, if you push harder he would”, he whispers to her in Italian. Anya's mouth snapped shut. They disappeared around the corner. Louis slid down the wall, legs giving out. Sat on the cold hospital floor, staring at nothing. What just happened? He bought all my jobs. All of them. How far is he willing to go? ***** Louis didn't remember the walk home. One minute he was on the hospital floor. The next, he was here, at his door, his hand reaching for the keys. "Mr. Carter." A soft voice called for him. He flinched so hard he nearly dropped everything. Anya stood against the wall by his door. She looked different. Not severe or professional. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes were red like she had been crying. "What do you want?" Louis's voice came out flat. He didn't have energy for more. Anya opened her mouth and closed it. Then she dropped. To her knees. On the dirty hallway floor, in her thousand-dollar suit. Louis stared at her, short of words. "What the…get up…" "Please." Anya's voice cracked, actually cracked. "Please, Mr. Carter. Please sign the contract." "I…what…no…get off the floor…." "I have worked for the Volterra family for fifteen years." Her words tumbled out, desperate. "Fifteen years. It's all I know. All I have. If you don't sign, he'll…he'll fire me. And no one else will hire me. The Volterras don't let people go quietly. I'll have nothing." Louis grabbed her arms, trying to pull her up but she wouldn't move. "Please." She looked up at him, tears spilling. "I have a mother. She's sick. I'm all she has. If I lose this job…" "Okay! OKAY!" Louis's voice broke. "I'll think about it. Just…get up. Please. You're making me look like a villain." Anya grabbed his hands. "He'll take care of your sister. All of it. The best doctors. The best treatment. Whatever she needs. She'll beat this, Mr. Carter. She'll live because of him." Louis went still. Chloe. Always Chloe, that was his weakness and strength. "Fine," he whispered. "I'll... I'll think about it." Anya bowed her head lower, almost touched the floor. Louis dropped down with her, frantic. "Stop! STOP doing that! I said I'd think about it!" She looked up, hope flickering through the tears. "Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you, Mr. Carter." Louis helped her up, feeling like the ground was shifting under his feet. Nothing made sense anymore. ***** The hotel room wasn't a room. It was a penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows, a view that made Louis dizzy, furniture that probably cost more than his entire life, and an interior design that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Lorenzo sat at a long table, dressed in something casual that still looked expensive. He smiled when Louis walked in…genuine, warm, like he hadn't threatened everything Louis loved forty-eight hours ago. "Mio gattino." He gestured to the seat across from him. "You eat first. Then talk." Louis opened his mouth to argue. A server appeared with covered dishes. The smell alone made Louis's stomach betray him. ‘When had he last eaten?’ He sat and ate because apparently his body had priorities his brain didn't agree with. Lorenzo watched him the whole time. Didn't eat himself. Just watched. Like Louis was the meal. Finally, Louis pushed his plate away. "I'll sign." Lorenzo's eyes lit up. "Good…" "But I have terms," Louis said quickly. The light didn't dim. If anything, it glowed brighter. Lorenzo leaned forward, interested. "Tell." "I want..." Louis swallowed. "I want to be able to walk away, at the end without you coming after me or you hurting anyone I love." Lorenzo considered this. "One year. You stay one year. After…" He waved a hand. "You free. If you want." "And my sister. Full treatment. Best doctors. All of it," Louis asked. "Already arranged." Louis blinked. "What?" "Before you come. I arrange. She get everything. No matter what you choose." Lorenzo shrugged. "She is child. She is sick. She is yours….That is enough." Louis stared at him. Something cracked, just a little, in the wall around his heart. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay." Anya appeared with an iPad. Typing, typing, typing. Then she handed it to Louis. Pages. So many pages. Tiny font. Legal words he didn't understand. Louis's head spun. "This is... I can't read all this." "You sign." Lorenzo's voice was calm. "We fix details later." "That's not how contracts work…" Louis protested. "You sign." Lorenzo shrugged instead. Louis grabbed the iPad. Signed without reading. Scrawled his name across twenty pages because if he stopped to think he'd lose his mind. "There." He shoved it back at Anya. "Done." Lorenzo smiled. "Good, after the contract is done, you…get fifty…dollars…millions . Now…" He tilted his head. "You know sex is mandatory, yes?" Louis choked. Actually choked, he grabbed his water, coughed, sputtered. "WHAT?!" "Marriage contract." Lorenzo shrugged like this was obvious. "Sex is part. Normal part." "I…I've never…with a guy…I don't even…" He lied. In the back of his head he remembered the male classmate he kissed and made out with in the locker room back in high school. But that was different. That was just experimenting and didn't count. "Neither have I." Lorenzo said it simply, like it didn't matter. "We learn together." Louis's brain short-circuited. "You've never…but you're…you're so…" "Obsessed with you?" Lorenzo finished. "Yes. First time for everything." He paused. "I wonder... what Anya say to make you sign. I'm guessing she talked to you." Louis found his voice. "She said you'd fire her if I didn't. That she'd lose everything." Lorenzo went still. Then he laughed. Loud and long and genuinely delighted. "Anya?" He pointed at her. "Fire Anya?" Anya's face had gone pale. "Her family work for mine for…" Lorenzo waved a hand. "Generations. Since before Italy was Italy. She don't do this job, she do other job. She always have place. Always have money. Always have power." Louis's blood ran cold as he slowly turned to look at Anya. She was already moving, closing her tablet, heading for the door. "I'll prepare the jet for Milan," she said quickly. "We leave tomorrow." The door clicked shut behind her. Louis stared at the empty space. "She... lied to me." "Yes." Lorenzo didn't sound surprised. "She made me feel guilty. She got on her knees " "Anya?" Lorenzo's eyebrows shot up. Then he laughed again. "That woman? On knees? She never kneel for anyone. Not even me." He shook his head, admiring. "Clever. Very clever." Louis felt the floor drop out from under him. "Well I'm doing this for my sister only..." he said, trying to pick what was left of his dignity. Lorenzo stood, walked around the table. Louis stood too, backing up on instinct. Lorenzo kept coming. "You have good heart," he said quietly. "Too good. People use it." He reached Louis. One hand came up, cupped his jaw. Gentle. Almost tender. Then he kissed him, Aggressively…demanding…and taking. Louis's back hit the wall. Lorenzo's body pressed against his, solid and warm and everywhere. His lips moved like he owned them…because in his mind, he did. When he finally pulled back, Louis was gasping. Lorenzo smiled softly now like he hadn't just stolen something. "A life waits for us in Milan," he murmured. "My family. My world. You see it soon." Louis stared at him, chest heaving. This wasn't going to be easy. This wasn't going to be simple. He was in so far over his head. Lorenzo pressed one more kiss to his forehead…gentle, almost loving…and stepped back. "Rest now, mio gattino. Tomorrow, everything change. But tonight…" He paused, a small smile playing on his lips. "Let's go to bed together." He walked away, leaving Louis pressed against the wall, heart pounding, mind screaming, the signed contract burning a hole in a tablet across the room. ‘What have I done. What have I gotten myself into?’CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THREE: THE PERFECT FIT The glass doors slid open, curtains parting like water as Lorenzo guided Louis into the bedroom. The penthouse was quiet, warm, lit soft gold from the lamps Lorenzo had left on. "How did it go, love?" Lorenzo's hand found the small of Louis's back, steadying him as they walked. "You must be so tired." Louis was already pulling away, shedding his coat, his energy a restless buzz. "You would not believe the way they treated my staff. The makeup artists… Lorenzo, they had them working fifteen-hour days with no breaks. Fifteen. And the lighting crew?” “They were drinking energy drinks like water because production refused to hire a second shift. I had to step in myself, I told them if they didn't fix it I was walking, and then…" "Oh really?" Lorenzo followed him, unbothered by the rant. "…and then the director had the nerve to say I was being difficult. Me. Difficult. Because I wanted my people to not collapse on set…" "Yeah?"
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO: THE WOMAN IN THE ROOM The phone rang three times before someone picked up. "Volterra residence." Louis tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear, toeing off his shoes by the door. "Hey, it's Louis. Is Aunt Gia around?" The housekeeper hesitated. It was a small thing…a beat of silence that lasted a second too long….but Louis caught it. "Signora Gia is not available at the moment." "Not available?" Louis frowned, padding into the kitchen. "It's eight in the morning there. She's always up by six." "She took a trip, Signore. An emergency trip." "A trip?" He stopped at the counter, fingers drumming against the marble. "Where?" "America." "America." He repeated it slowly, like the word might rearrange itself into something that made sense. "Aunt Gia flew to America." "Yes, signore. She left last night." Louis pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it, then put it back. "She's in her eighties. Isn't she a little old to be flying across t
CHAPTER HUNDRED AND ONE: SHE’S ALIVE Louis pushed open the door to the penthouse, his body aching from a long day on set. His feet were sore, his shoulders tight, and all he wanted was a hot shower and a quiet night with Lorenzo. Then the smell hit him. Rich…warm and delicious. He stopped at the dining room , his eyes landing on the dining table. It was set for two…candles, champagne, plates arranged with care. The food was already on the table, steam rising from the dishes. Lorenzo looked up from the kitchen, a smile spreading across his face. "Finally, you're here." Louis blinked. "You cooked?" "I did." Lorenzo crossed to him, his hands finding Louis's waist. "I made all of this. For you." Louis's eyes swept over the table. "This is... a lot." "You deserve a lot." Louis laughed softly, leaning into the touch. "I would get a shower first. I smell like set." "I'll survive." Lorenzo kissed his forehead. "Go. I'll wait." Louis showered quickly, the hot water loosening the
CHAPTER HUNDRED: FACE THAT FEAR? The applause was deafening. Lorenzo stood at the podium, the lights hot on his face, the crowd on their feet. The new car…the most advanced model the company had ever produced…was displayed behind him, sleek and silver, catching every flash of the cameras. He didn't care about any of it. His eyes found Louis in the front row. Louis was smiling, clapping, his eyes bright with pride. The bandage on his arm was barely visible beneath his sleeve. Lorenzo didn't wait for the applause to die down. He stepped off the podium and moved through the crowd, his strides long and purposeful. People tried to stop him…handshakes, congratulations, questions…but he ignored them all. He reached Louis. "You did well," Louis said, his voice warm. Lorenzo didn't answer. He pulled Louis into his arms and kissed him…deep, hungry, full of everything he had been holding back. Louis laughed against his lips. "Lorenzo…people are watching…" "I don't care." Lorenzo ki
CHAPTER NINETY NINE: UNHINGED Louis sat cross-legged on the bed, his laptop open in front of him, a stack of glossy cards in his hand. His hair was still damp from the shower, falling in soft waves across his forehead. He was smiling…a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Okay, so," Louis said, flipping through the cards, "I just opened up my bookings and announced that I'm back to work." He held up one of the cards triumphantly. "And I already got booked to host on a show." Lorenzo looked up from his phone, his expression shifting from bored to interested. "A show?" "A big one. Prime time. The kind of thing that could really…" Louis stopped himself, laughing. "Listen to me. I sound like I'm accepting an award." Lorenzo set his phone aside and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "You should sound like that. You're incredible." Louis rolled his eyes, but his cheeks flushed. "I got an extra card." He held it up, waving it slightly. "Would you like to come?" Loren
CHAPTER NINETY EIGHT: MY SAINT LOUIS Louis sat across from Matt in the corner of a quiet café, far from the mansion, far from Lorenzo, far from anyone who might overhear. His coffee sat untouched, growing cold. His hands were wrapped around the cup, but he wasn't drinking. He was staring at the table, his mind racing.Matt watched him for a long moment. "You look like shit."Louis let out a hollow laugh. "Thanks.""You called me here. Said it was urgent." Matt leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "So. What's going on?"Louis was quiet. He glanced around the café, checking the faces of the strangers nearby. No one was looking at them. No one was listening. But still, he hesitated."Louis." Matt's voice was firmer now. "What did you do?"Louis's jaw tightened. He looked up, meeting Matt's eyes. "I made a deal."Matt's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. "What kind of deal?""With Theo."Matt went still. His arms uncrossed slowly. "Theo. As in
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US. The mansion felt different with Chloe in it…brighter, louder, like someone had turned up the volume on a song Louis didn't realize had been playing too low. She sat in a wheelchair, not because she couldn't walk but because she tired easily, her bod
CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BLOOD ON THE STREET The private jet sat on the tarmac, engines humming, ready to take him to Zurich. Lorenzo stood at the bottom of the steps, one foot on the first stair, when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. The estate. "What." The voice on the other end wa
CHAPTER SIX: THE GRANDMOTHER Louis stood in the middle of the bedroom, staring at the massive bed like it was a cage about to snap shut. He should be getting ready for bed. That's what normal people did. They brushed their teeth, they changed into something comfortable, they lay down and clos
CHAPTER FIVE: MARRIED TO A CRAZY ONE IN MILAN. The private jet felt ridiculous. Louis had never been on a plane that felt more like a hotel room. Leather seats that reclined into beds. A table set with actual silverware. A flight attendant who kept asking if he wanted anything…champagne, caviar







