Novel & Cerita Lorenzo Haunting Ground

He walked with an exceptional determination, though his pace was slow. We walked slowly through the fallen leaves, past the Italian-style fountain, and finally stopped in front of the small chapel deep within the estate. "Aurora, do you remember this place?" "I remember. The first day, you told me there was a female ghost trapped inside." "Yeah." Lorenzo stared at the carved wooden door. "That was my first love. Marco, that bastard, tortured her to death." An inexplicable heaviness settled in my heart. "What's this? Is my wife jealous?" Lorenzo turned his head, his eyes playful.

"Come inside." Gerald pushed the wheelchair forward and Maxton and Xander fell in behind without a word and the mansion doors opened and swallowed all of them and the courtyard began moving again as people slowly remembered how to be people. Lorenzo hadn't moved at all. He was standing exactly where he'd been when he pulled the trigger with the gun still hanging from his fingers and his eyes fixed on something on the ground in front of him that nobody else could see. His face was completely blank in the way that wasn't peace but the total absence of everything — like every feeling had fired at once and now there was just nothing left and his body was standing there waiting for instructions t

Elena sat back on the cold floor, staring at her hand, her breathing uneven now. Not crying. Not weak. Just… overwhelmed. “This is insane,” she muttered. And for the first time since she arrived— She felt it. Not fear. Not attraction. Doubt. Maybe Maria was right. Maybe this place wasn’t meant for her. Maybe she had stepped into something far bigger than she could handle. “You’re bleeding.” The voice cut through everything. Low. Controlled. But not calm. Elena looked up. Lorenzo stood in the doorway. For a second, she didn’t react.

Lorenzo didn't stop chanting, his large hands cupping my face even tighter, as he forced his blazing gaze into mine. I gripped the black stone in my hands as more pain punctured my chest, aligning with the burning heat on the lower side of my stomach. It was as if there was a merge deep within me, and my crystal blue eyes still stared into Lorenzo's. His voice and chanting had completely consumed my entire being.

The sounds in the room faded, and Luca's voice became a distant murmur. My vision blurred, and an icy chill ran through me, despite the warmth of the blanket. And then I saw him. It was not a dream, not a memory. It was a sharp, almost tangible image, projected directly into my mind. Lorenzo Moretti. He was standing in what appeared to be a dark, dank cave, the flickering light of a torch casting dancing shadows across his face. His smile was that of a predator, cold and calculated, and his eyes...his eyes glowed with a feverish madness. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of blurred figures, large and menacing—wolves.

"Though perhaps a bit too much rosemary." Lorenzo stared at his daughter, a grim, satisfied smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "A Valeriano must always appreciate quality, Isabella. Even in the middle of a cleaning." He waved his hand dismissively toward the guards. "Drag Bruno out to the orchard. He’s making a mess of the rug." As the guards moved to drag the heavy corpse away, Lorenzo turned his bloodshot eyes toward Dante. "And you, Ghost. You didn't blink. Most men lose their appetite when the ledger gets balanced at the table."

He sipped his espresso slowly, deliberately, like a man who feared nothing. “They’ve been there since dawn,” he said quietly. Amara crossed to him, lowering herself into the chair at his side. Her pulse quickened. “Lorenzo’s men?” “Lorenzo’s dead.” His lips curved into a cold, humorless smile. “But a hydra always grows new heads. The shadows are stirring again.” Her fingers tightened around her cup. “Then we should leave Rome.”

I started whispering, weak. I didn’t know if it was for me or for him. Lorenzo’s lusty voice blurred, fading at the edges. “Mmmnn... I’m dying to shove my cock between them and jerk off the most delicious fucking stroke of my life... tell me I can, baby... sshh, fuck, tell me you’ll let me come between these beauties...” I fought not to listen to the ghosts. I tried to lock onto Lorenzo, hide in his presence. But when he grabbed my waist and laid me back on the bed, my eyes caught a huge shadow dropping over my body and horror hit me all at once.

The morning sun peeked through the high, broken windows, hitting his face. He stared into the empty air, a final spark of light returning to his dull eyes. "Elena..." He whispered my name to the shadows, a faint smile of relief touching his lips. "Don't be scared... I’m coming to find you... It’s too dark there... you shouldn't be alone..." "In the next life... don't ever meet a bastard like me again..." His hand went limp. The ring rolled onto the bloody floor with a soft, metallic chime. Lorenzo was dead. The Caruso family, left without an heir, was torn apart by rivals within weeks.