Chapter 2

ESME

"Fuck you," I whisper. My voice breaks, and the sound of it kills me. I want to be a wall of ice, but standing this close to him, I’m melting. I’m seething, my grip on his collar trembling. 

I want to scream. I want to hate him. But I can't keep the fire going when he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in this house worth destroying. 

Before I can blink, his hand is behind my head, fingers tangled in my hair.

"We both know you don't mean it. If you really wanted me gone, you wouldn't be holding onto me so tight."

I twist my lips, speechless, and the next second he pulls me into a kiss that tastes like tobacco and whiskey.

My resolve shatters. I whimper against his lips as his other hand slides down, bunching up my dress as he caresses my thighs. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows that every time he touches me, I'll melt and automatically forget how much I should hate him. 

He pulls back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine. 

"If you pull that stunt again, I'll lock you up somewhere your daddy can't find you. You’re stuck with me. Esme. For life."

—

He doesn't give me a chance to respond before locking his lips on mine again.

Hands roaming all over my body, slowly slipping my panties away while he dangles his tongue in my mouth, sucking away whatever fight I have left until I hear it: the thud of footsteps in the hallway.

My eyes snap open, and I try to pull away, but he doesn't budge. He just stays there. 

Makes me remember the last time we were this reckless—the time he had me against the desk in my father's study with the door unlocked, not giving a damn who walked in. 

He almost gave me a heart attack. 

And now he's doing it again. 

And the worst part? It thrills me.

"Lorenzo, stop," I hiss, shoving at his chest.

"Someone's coming."

He laughs and finally lets go, watching me scramble for the door. 

I don't look back as I burst out of the room and run.

~~~~~~~~ 

"Esme?" 

"Dad!" I skid to a stop, almost bumping into my dad in the hallway.

I'm panting, fixing my skirt and trying to look less suspicious, but the heat in my face isn't helping.

Alejandro has always been the one to notice things others don't, but somehow, he seems to be losing his touch when it comes to matters concerning Lorenzo.

 

He sizes me up, brow knitting.

"Look at you," he says, his voice a low grate. "You’re twenty years old, a grown woman, and yet you’re still skidding around corners like a kid. Who is chasing you that has you this breathless?" 

Actually, I'm twenty-four, but never mind.

"No one, Dad. I just... I forgot something in the room."

He doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push.

  He just sighs and adjusts his cuffs, looking back toward the noise of the party. "Fix yourself. Your grandfather is asking for you again, and I won't have my daughter looking like a mess in front of our guests."

He turns and walks away, leaving me standing there with my heart still racing for all the wrong reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lorenzo isn't going to stop until we're caught—reasons for his obsession I do not know, and I don't plan to stop either.

Even if I book another flight, he'll find another shocking way to sabotage it.

Fine, then—another approach.

The next day during breakfast, I waited for him to be seated at the dining table. He has this annoying habit of being the last one to arrive for every single meal, acting like his time is more valuable than everyone else's.

He saunters in as usual, a half-burnt cigarette hanging from his lips. He looks far too casual for a Monday morning.

Grandpa watches him with a "here he goes again" look, shaking his head while Dad is busy glaring a hole through his head.

And me? I'm smiling like an idiot. 

"Good morning, Uncle."

He pauses; his face darkens instantly. 

"It's Lorenzo."

"But you're my uncle, isn't that right?"

He sighs inaudibly and sits quietly, letting me win this round.

But I'm just getting started.

I clap, stealing their attention. 

"Now that everyone's present, I have an announcement to make." 

Grandpa smiles. 

Dad... well, as usual, doesn't even look up from his coffee. 

And Lorenzo—he’s more attentive than all of them, his eyes narrowing as he leans back in his chair. 

"Tonight I'm bringing someone special."

I sneak a glance at Lorenzo, expecting him to choke on his food or spit out his drink, but all I get is this deadpan stare that tells me he’s already thinking of ten ways to kill this person.

"And who's this special someone?" Grandpa jumps in. 

"He's, um..." I stop myself before I spill the name; the last time I threatened him with a boyfriend—just a name, and Lorenzo tracked the guy down and scared him out of the state within three hours.

But this time will be different; it has to be.

"He’s welcome here," Dad finally says. "As long as he isn't a spy and has no contact with the Valenti. And I hope he knows exactly who you are—and exactly what kind of business this family runs."

"It’s settled then. 8 PM," I say, pointing a finger at each of them around the table like a drill sergeant.

"And no one is allowed to ditch dinner."

They all nod, except for Lorenzo.

God, he’s a real pain in my arse.

The silence doesn't last long. Dad leans forward, his eyes shifting from me to Lorenzo. The air in the room gets heavy—the kind of heavy that usually happens right before someone gets shot. 

"I’m heading to the docks later," Dad says, voice cold.

"The shipment is lagging. I’ll take care of it, so butt out, Lorenzo. I don't need you hovering over this one." 

Lorenzo just shrugs, looking completely bored. "Sure. I’ve got plans today anyway." He pauses, a slow, shark-like grin spreading across his face. "I'm going shopping. With Esme."

I almost choke on my coffee. "What?" 

"I want you to look good for that 'special someone,'" Lorenzo says, leaning back. The way he says "special someone" makes it sound like a death sentence. 

I chuckle, nervous. "That’s... sweet, but shopping is a girl-bestie job, not yours." 

"I don't mind," he says. He isn't asking, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him from ruining my day before it even starts.