Lorenzo St John Novels & Stories

the voice came from a speaker in the ceiling. I looked around the room. A man stepped out of the shadows. He wasn't wearing a mask anymore. He was wearing a simple janitor’s uniform, the kind I saw every day in the hallways of St. Jude’s. It was Mr. Silas. The man who emptied the bins. The man everyone ignored. "Mr. Silas?" I gasped. "What is this? Why are they in there?" The old man smiled, but his eyes were empty. "Everyone looks at the Thorne family. Everyone watches the Hales. But nobody looks at the man holding the broom. I’ve been the ears of the Order of St. Jude for thirty years, Loveth."

She only stood by the door until I looked up at her. “He’s here,” she said finally. “He is waiting for you to admit him in.” “Send him in.” Lorenzo walked in like the room had been waiting for him. Tall, dark suit, the kind of poise that came from knowing exactly how much attention he commanded. His smile was faint but deliberate, a crafted expression that could pass for charm in the right light. “Mrs. Blackthorn, I didn’t think that you would be calling at all. But I am glad that you did.” He said, and he extended his hand to shake mine.

“I’ve already lost one son today.” “Roman got what he deserved,” Domenico hissed. “No doubt there,” Giovanni said with a sigh. “He always was driven by his selfishness. I thought maybe he would learn something from you, but alas, he only stayed the sociopath he always was.” “What does that make me?” “That depends. You’ve stolen my goods. She’s worth a lot, being Francesca Vitale Santoro’s daughter.” A deep growl rumbled in Domenico’s chest, and he pulled me tighter against his back.

"I don’t even have a room with a lock in that house." He frowned but said nothing. After a pause, his tone softened. "After tonight, Lucia won’t be under my sponsorship anymore. The family only supports orphans until they turn eighteen. I promised to give her a proper ending." "So you gave her my signet." "It’s just one night. You’ve had everything since childhood. She may only get this once. Consider it a favor." Adrian Camerlano, the Godfather’s eldest grandson and the youngest acting capo in Port Saint Giovanni, knew exactly what that signet meant. He simply did not think it mattered enough.

‘Lorena, Lorena, Lorena darling don’t be a chicken, how can you hide from someone who doesn’t even know you are hiding. “Yeah you are right Lil ora. Why should I hide? After all, I am Lorena Princess Price why should I be bothered about some stalker, if he comes again I will beat him up and hand him over to the police. ‘that’s good girl’ ‘What are you waiting for then? Grab your purse, your bag and money and go out there, show them who’s boss’ “Yes! Show them who is boss. He is supposed to hide from me not the other way round. I am like a devilin.” I crawled on an invincible wall.

“Mistress…?” “I said that I couldn’t do that to a woman like you. That I couldn’t hurt you. That I loved you too much to put you through this…” Lorenzo brushed a red curl from her eyebrow with gentle fingers. There was so much tenderness in his warm blue eyes that Phoebe finally believed his words. Lorenzo De Angelis, the Italian tycoon, was in love with her, Phoebe Stone, a simple cleaner and a bookstore manager. Even so, she said nothing to him. She needed to hear every single thing that women did and said about her… about Lorenzo and her. There will be time after that to talk about feelings and emotions… about their marriage.

The arms dealer pleaded, "Please, Don Giovanni, allow my daughter to divorce him. She is half-dead. It was my failure as a father that she caused this catastrophe. She is no longer fit to be part of this family." Giovanni agreed. When Chiara was carried out of the cellar, she looked as if she had aged ten years. Her face was a ghostly white, and she kept muttering to herself, "But I'm the heir's wife..." Lorenzo took his two mistresses with him to Sicily, but his convoy was ambushed by rivals on the road. During the shootout, he was shot in the groin. The doctors who saved him said he would be impotent for the rest of his life. He was a broken man.

“Anna, we’re married. My money is your money. Besides, earning it isn’t hard for me at all.” Anna: “…” Was he even human? It was too much to handle. Lorenzo smiled. “I don’t have bad habits. My only expensive hobby is collecting—art, antiques. In ten years, the pieces I bought have appreciated multiple times. My other businesses? Not a single company in the red.” He paused, then added, “Of course, there’s the hidden stuff, gambling, et cetera. My wealth is far more than you imagine. Money is just a number to me.”

he said, his voice dropping a note lower. “I-I was looking for the bathroom,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “I got lost…” Lorenzo’s gaze hardened as he glanced around the room, then back at me. “Does this place look like a bathroom to you?” I shook my head quickly, too terrified to say anything else. “Who are you here with?” he asked, his tone sharp. Before I could answer, John spoke up from his spot on the floor. “She’s with me, sir. She’s my stepdaughter,” he said, his voice trembling. “But I didn’t ask her to come over here, I swear—”

Isabella’s voice was sharp, dripping with jealousy. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lorenzo said softly. “Everything is going according to plan.” “Then why didn’t you back me up out there? She said her stomach hurt, and you looked genuinely worried.” Lorenzo sighed. “I’m doing all of this for our child. She’s carrying him, after all…” His voice trailed off. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet jewelry box. Inside was an antique sapphire brooch. He pinned it gently to her dress. “You wanted this at the auction. I bought it for you.”