LORENZO
I knew from the start that Lucy Parker was the one I needed. Not because she was good with words, or because she could twist the law into knots, but because she didn't scare easily.
Fear was what I hated most in people. Fear makes people weak. It makes them betray you before you even lift a hand. But Miss Parker… she didn't flinch, not when I first showed up in that polished suit, not when I gave her that first cold stare.
I remembered the first time I heard her name. One of my men mentioned her, surprisingly, he didn't call her a lawyer. He called her a fighter. Someone who once stood against a senior lawyer and made the man look like a fool in court.
I needed that kind of fire. I needed someone who didn't just talk, I needed someone who could stand in the storm.
And that courtroom today… it wasn't a fight. It was a test... for her.
I watched her from my seat with my hands folded, wearing this unreadable look that made her scared of me. She thought I didn't care, that I wasn't paying attention. But I was. Every single move she made, I was reading her like a book. Every glance, every word, even the way she sat straight with her shoulders pulled back like she was carrying the entire case on her back.
I respected that.
But I also needed to know if she could handle more than just courtrooms, if she could handle my world.
And when she dropped that video, when Stark's face turned white, I knew I had found the right one. Not just for the case, but for something bigger.
She didn't know it yet, but I was going to drag her into the shadows. Into a place where the law didn't matter anymore. Into a place where only survival counted.
As I stood in my office, watching her stand there, dressed in that simple but elegant dress, I saw more than a lawyer. I saw a weapon I could sharpen, use, and maybe… maybe trust.
The funny thing was… she didn't even realize she was already halfway mine.
I smirked to myself.
"Sadly," I had told her, "those terms will be changing. Because you'll be working for me."
I could tell by her eyes she didn't know what that meant yet. But she would, soon enough. And when that day came… I hoped she was ready.
Marco stood by the door, "Boss, they're all waiting."
My eyes didn't leave hers. "Tell them I'll be out shortly." He nodded, then disappeared.
She exhaled, trying so hard to steady herself. "I'm not your employee, Mr. Carcaterra. I came here out of respect for the invitation. Don't confuse my presence for submission."
I smiled, loving the whole confidence she was playing. "That's what makes this so fun."
She turned towards the door. "We're done here."
"You'll come back," I said. "Not because I forced you, but because when the wolves start circling, you'll remember, I'm the only one who knows how to bite harder."
She left and I followed after a while. The moment I reached the top of the stairs, something didn't sit right. It wasn't just about the music, or the laughter, or the sound of glasses clinking... it was the energy.
I've been in too many rooms not to know when something's wrong.
I scanned the crowd, my eyes landing on two men standing too close to the exit. They weren't drinking, they weren't laughing. They weren't talking to anyone either. One of them kept darting his eyes around, like he was counting people or searching for someone.
I frowned.
"Marco," I muttered under my breath.
He leaned in immediately. "Boss?"
"By the door," I said, tilting my head slightly, "the two in dark suits. You see them?"
Marco's eyes followed. "Got them."
"Send a quiet word to the boys outside. Get their faces on record. I want names."
Marco moved quickly, pulling out his phone to send a silent text, but I was too late. One of the men suddenly turned, pulling something out from his coat. A glint of metal... gun.
"Down!" I barked before the first shot went off.
Screaming broke out everywhere. Guests were running in every direction, heels clattering on marble floors, chairs falling over, glass smashing. The music cut abruptly.
I pulled out my own gun. I never went anywhere without one.
Marco was already on it, ducking low and firing two clean shots toward the shooters. One of them went down hard, crashing over a table. The other started firing blindly, hitting one of the chandeliers and sending shards raining down.
"Where's Lucy?" I shouted.
Marco's face went stiff. "I thought she was still in your office."
"Go check. Now."
He didn't argue. Marco disappeared up the stairs, two steps at a time.
I focused back on the crowd. My men were closing in now, some coming in from the gardens, others from the garage entrance. The shooter was boxed in, but still desperate. Desperate men make stupid moves.
Another shot cracked through the air, grazing my shoulder. I barely flinched, but the pain bit deep.
I fired back. This was my house. My party. My rules.
The last of the attackers dropped with a hard thud, his gun spinning across the floor. But I wasn't thinking about the blood on my floor. I was thinking about her.
Marco came running back, breathless. "She's not in the office."
I grabbed him by the collar. "What do you mean she's not there?"
"I don't know, boss. The place was empty."
I cursed low under my breath. If they touched her...
I scanned the panicked faces, the crying women, the men dragging their dates toward the door, security holding back the mess.
"Find her!" I barked at my men. "I want every damn corner of this house searched. Don't miss a single room!"
Marco was already shouting orders to the others.
"She couldn't have just disappeared," I growled. "Somebody would've seen her."
But when I called one of the guards outside on my earpiece, his reply made my gut twist. "No one's seen her, boss."
No one? No one had seen her leave?
That's when fear, real fear, curled around my chest. I didn't fear men with guns, I didn't fear betrayal. But not knowing? That was what I hated most.
What if they had grabbed her? What if she was...
"Boss…" Marco's voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned sharply. And there she was.
Miss Parker walked in from the hallway like she didn't just miss a gunfight. Like she hadn't just been the woman half the house was searching for. She was holding a wine glass, swirling it lazily, blinking at the scene like she had walked into the wrong movie.
Her eyes scanned the broken chairs, the smoke curling from broken bulbs, the bodies of the shooters on the floor.
"What the hell happened here?" she asked, completely serious.
I stared at her like I was seeing a ghost.
I felt relief at first, then anger. Then a kind of twisted respect I didn't want to feel right then.
I cursed under my breath.
"Of course," I muttered, shaking my head. "Of all the damn people to walk out of this alive…
it had to be you."
She took a slow sip of the wine. "Did I miss something important?" she asked.
For a second, I almost laughed.