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Chapter 8

Author: Miss Smoke
Elisa shipped me off to some elite Swiss clinic.

Lorenzo had pumped me full of sleeping pills, and with the cancer wrecking my body, I was barely hanging on. Elisa showed up just in time and dragged me back from the edge.

I still see her—poised, cold, the Corsica queen—on her knees, crying, apologizing to me and to my dead parents.

Didn't matter anymore.

The tumor in my head felt like a ticking bomb. I could drop dead any second.

All I cared about was my dad's broken ring.

I scooped up the black shards and tucked them into a velvet box.

Didn't matter how I tried to fix it—some things just don't go back.

***

Three months into treatment, Lorenzo still found me. Guess Elisa caved.

Lorenzo looked wrecked—scruffy, red-eyed, all that cold mafia polish worn down to something raw.

"Chiara..." he croaked from the doorway.

I stayed leaning on the headboard, voice barely there. "The engagement's off. We're just history now. What do you want?"

Before I could finish, he was on me—arms
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  • On the Thirty-Third Try   Chapter 8

    Elisa shipped me off to some elite Swiss clinic.Lorenzo had pumped me full of sleeping pills, and with the cancer wrecking my body, I was barely hanging on. Elisa showed up just in time and dragged me back from the edge.I still see her—poised, cold, the Corsica queen—on her knees, crying, apologizing to me and to my dead parents.Didn't matter anymore.The tumor in my head felt like a ticking bomb. I could drop dead any second.All I cared about was my dad's broken ring.I scooped up the black shards and tucked them into a velvet box.Didn't matter how I tried to fix it—some things just don't go back.***Three months into treatment, Lorenzo still found me. Guess Elisa caved.Lorenzo looked wrecked—scruffy, red-eyed, all that cold mafia polish worn down to something raw."Chiara..." he croaked from the doorway.I stayed leaning on the headboard, voice barely there. "The engagement's off. We're just history now. What do you want?"Before I could finish, he was on me—arms

  • On the Thirty-Third Try   Chapter 7

    Lorenzo walked into the hospital.Sofia's face lit up. She smiled, soft and certain. "Lorenzo, I knew you wouldn't leave me—"She reached for his hand. He stepped back like she'd burned him. Cold, distant.He stared at her, ice in his eyes. "Did Chiara really force you to try to kill yourself?"Sofia blinked, flustered. "Of course she did! Lorenzo, you can't trust that kind of woman—"He cut her off. No heat, just a dead-flat voice. "I checked. You had no direct contact with Chiara. How did she 'force' you? And why did it happen the same day I visited the chapel?"He watched her. "The doctors said the drug levels weren't even close to lethal. That 'suicide' looked staged."His last words were quieter, more to himself than to her, colder than anything before.He felt stupid—how easily he'd fallen for that shallow lie, and the unforgivable things he'd done because of it.Lorenzo moved fast. He ordered Sofia out of the country.Every gift, every asset she'd been given was taken

  • On the Thirty-Third Try   Chapter 6

    Lorenzo flooded the streets with men, tearing through the city's underworld, but Chiara was gone. Like she'd never even been real.With no leads left, he went to the one person he hated needing—his mother, the real boss of the Corsica Family."Mother, do you know where Chiara is? She's gone. I can't find her." His voice cracked with desperation.Elisa's look was ice. "Stop searching. I dissolved your engagement on behalf of the Family. She's nothing to you now."The words hit like a bullet to the chest.Lorenzo reeled, dizzy. "Dissolved?! Based on what? The Mortoros died for that promise—we swore a blood oath!"Elisa laughed, sharp and cruel. "A blood oath? You still remember? Then tell me—what have you done since?"His throat closed. He ground his teeth, voice ragged. "Chiara wouldn't agree. She'd never end it."Elisa's sigh was heavy, her eyes dark with hurt. "She's the one who asked."The study went dead quiet, just the fire snapping in the hearth and Lorenzo's heartbeat th

  • On the Thirty-Third Try   Chapter 5

    Lorenzo's face drained of color. Two hours had already passed since Sofia's rescue. The dose he'd forced on Chiara... enough to—He shoved his men out of the way, bolted from the hospital, and tore off in his car toward Sofia's mansion.His heart hammered the whole drive.Too quiet. His phone stayed dead. He kept dialing Chiara—no answer.The mansion door hung open. The living room was trashed.An empty pill bottle. A shattered ring. No one.Lorenzo stood in the doorway, lungs burning, and yelled, "Chiara?!"Silence.'Where does someone go after swallowing half a bottle of sleeping pills?' Panic crashed over him like a tide.He pressed his temples, hating himself—hating how he'd lost control, how he'd been cruel. She was still his fiancée. His savior's daughter. The girl who'd shown him kindness back when they were kids.He scrambled through every family channel he had. Nothing. Dead ends.He couldn't make it public—'a mafia Don's fiancée goes missing' would be fuel for enem

  • On the Thirty-Third Try   Chapter 4

    Lorenzo bolted up.Gone was the calm—just raw panic twisting his face."Chiara! How DARE you—!"He looked at me like he was ready to kill.In all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen him snap like that.No time to explain—he just waved the guards over.They grabbed me, shoved me into the car, and drove straight to Sofia's place.The mansion was trashed.Every photo of her and Lorenzo? Smashed.Sofia lay on the bed, pale and barely breathing.Lorenzo dropped to his knees, crumpling beside her.He grabbed her hand, voice cracking."Sofia! Look at me! I won't marry her, okay? Just open your eyes—look at me!"Next to her: an open pill bottle and a bloody suicide note, all blame aimed straight at me.His eyes went wild.He spun and slammed me against the wall, hand at my throat.Didn't even notice—half the pills were untouched.Sofia barely took anything.But he was gone—full beast mode, shaking with rage."Chiara! Why the hell would you do this?! You wanted the weddin

  • On the Thirty-Third Try   Chapter 3

    Lorenzo ghosted me for a month.Guess Sofia had his full attention now.His dead Facebook account? Suddenly blowing up with couple pics.Opera nights, island getaways—everything he used to call "pointless."The latest post? Him in a custom tux, Sofia in a wedding dress.Caption: [Wanted to see the woman I love in a wedding gown.]I laughed—cold and hollow.Then I liked the post.And shut off my phone.The next day, Lorenzo called—sounded pissed."Chiara, bring your ID. Chapel. One hour."Click.Five years, and not once had he brought up the chapel.I was ready to text back no—then I remembered.Dad's signet ring was still with him.I wasn't leaving without it.I headed to the old Corsica chapel—same road I'd walked a million times.For once, nothing went wrong.Waited under the bullet-riddled columns for an hour before he showed.Eyes sunken, reeking of smoke.He only lit up when he was falling apart.A whole month since we'd seen each other.He froze when he saw

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