Chapter 7 - Whispers in the DarkThe master suite of the Gold Coast estate was vast, silent, and suffocatingly luxurious.
After the chaos at the front gates, Camila had been bundled upstairs by a quiet, efficient housekeeper, stripped of her wet catering clothes, and given a scalding hot shower that washed away the scent of flour, rain, and gunpowder. Now, she sat wrapped in a heavy silk bathrobe on the edge of a massive king-sized bed, staring blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the dark, turbulent waters of Lake Michigan.
The door opened silently.
Lorenzo entered, having changed into a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the powerful, corded muscle of his forearms and the faint, fading scar across his palm. He held a steaming mug of hot spiced tea and a small plate of fresh, warm lemon bars.
He walked across the plush Persian rug and set the plate on the bedside table before sitting down slowly beside her.
“You haven't eaten,” he said quietly.
Camila looked down at the lemon bars. They were golden, dusted with powdered sugar, cut into precise squares. They looked exactly like the ones she made in Logan Square.
“Did your Milan chef make these, too?” she asked, her voice raspy from crying.
“No,” Lorenzo replied, sliding the plate a fraction of an inch closer to her. “I made them. Using the recipe I watched you write down in your inventory notebook last month.”
Camila blinked, turning her head to stare at him in shock. “You... you know how to bake?”
A faint, self-deprecating smirk touched his lips. “When you spend your life surrounded by enemies, you learn how to do everything yourself. Including the things that bring comfort.”
She picked up a square, took a small bite, and closed her eyes. The balance of tart lemon and sweet, buttery crust was absolute perfection. It tasted like home—or at least, the illusion of it.
“What’s going to happen to Aiden?” she asked softly, her eyes opening to meet his.
Lorenzo’s expression hardened instantly, the warmth vanishing like smoke. “He was an operative for the Russos. He used you to get to my supply lines, and he brought a weapon to my home. In my world, betrayal is paid for in blood.”
“Are you going to kill him?” Camila’s voice shook, a cold knot forming in her stomach.
“He is being interrogated in the lower bunker,” Lorenzo said evenly. “What happens to him depends on what information he gives us about his handlers. But he will never walk the streets of Chicago again.”
Camila looked away, staring back out at the dark lake. A week ago, the mere thought of a man being held in a mafia bunker would have sent her running for the police. Now, sitting in the fortress of the city’s most feared crime lord, she felt... numb. Safe, terrifyingly, in the arms of the monster who had rescued her from the illusion of a normal life.
“I can't go back to Sterling & Co., can I?” she whispered.
“That life is gone, Camila,” Lorenzo said, his voice gentle but absolute. He reached out, his warm fingers gently tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Your apartment in Logan Square has already been sanitized and secured by my team. Your belongings are being moved here as we speak.”
She turned back to glare at him, a flicker of her old fire returning. “You moved my things without asking? You didn't even consult me!”
“I protect what is mine,” Lorenzo replied simply, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “And you are mine, Camila. From the moment you looked me in the eye and told me you didn't have a boyfriend yet.”
Before she could form a retort, the encrypted comms device on the bedside table buzzed sharply.
Lorenzo picked it up with a frown, pressing it to his ear. As he listened to the voice on the other end, his entire body went rigid. The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees.
“Repeat that,” Lorenzo ordered, his voice dangerously low.
A muffled voice spoke from the device.
Lorenzo slowly lowered the comms unit, his dark eyes darkening into an abyss of pure, unadulterated fury.
May you like
“What is it?” Camila asked, a cold dread washing over her.
“Aiden didn't act alone,” Lorenzo said, standing up so fast the floorboards seemed to shudder. “And the Russos aren't the only ones looking for a weakness in my empire.”
