'Lorenzo my love?'
I scoffed in my head as both of us froze. Slowly, we turned toward the sound, and a tall, stunning lady in a fitted red dress approached us, a smile that could kill on her lips.
I stiffened as she glided toward us, hips swaying in that body-hugging red dress, hair perfect, makeup flawless. She didn't even glance at me, her entire attention locked on him like he belonged to her.
Lorenzo's eyes flickered briefly before he straightened, his face schooled into calm neutrality.
"Veronica," he said evenly.
So she had a name? A beautiful, venomous-sounding name.
Her eyes finally flicked toward me, and her brows lifted with faux surprise. "Oh… and who is this?"
Before I could open my mouth, she added, her voice dipped in sweet malice: "Is she your younger sister?"
My entire body burned. My stomach twisted with embarrassment as my nails dug into the towel in my hand. Younger sister? That's what I looked like to her? To everyone, including him?
I forced my expression into something cool, calm... anything but the fire raging inside me.
"No," Lorenzo answered without hesitation. "Alessia is my best friend's younger sister and also an intern at my company for the next three months."
"Ah, I thought as much." Veronica's smile sharpened. "I know the kind of women you keep around, Lorenzo. High standards, refined taste. I didn't think she quite fit that category."
Her eyes lingered on me with a deliberate up-and-down sweep, as if assessing a charity case in leggings. My jaw tightened, but I said nothing. The cool mask stayed firmly in place, even as my insides screamed.
Lorenzo cleared his throat. "Excuse me." He gently set his water bottle down and stepped away, guiding Veronica a few feet across the gym floor.
I watched them... watched her lean close, laugh too loudly, brush her manicured fingers against his arm in ways that made bile rise in my throat. He stood tall, controlled, but he wasn't pushing her away either. What a flirt!
Every giggle, every playful touch was like a knife slicing deeper into me. "Why do you care?" I demanded silently. "You're not jealous, Alessia. You can't be jealous!"
But the ugly heat coiled tighter inside me, wrapping around my lungs until every breath hurt.
For twenty long minutes, I stood there pretending to scroll on my phone, pretending not to hear her laugh, and not to see the way her hand stayed on his chest every second.
Inside, I wanted to scream, 'take your hands away from him bitch!'
But I sank lower into the seat, trying to make myself invisible, but my mind refused to cooperate. My fingers twitched against the leather of the bench, itching to reach out, to do something... anything, yet I was frozen in a cocktail of fury and longing.
Lorenzo didn't even glance my way. He stood there, composed, almost enjoying her company, and yet my heart thudded against my ribcage as if it wanted to escape.
Why did seeing him like that... so calm, so unaffected, hurt more than if he'd been yelling at me? My pride bristled, my stomach churned.
I wanted to tell her she didn't belong near him, that no one could just waltz in and claim what belonged to only me. But I couldn't speak. Not when my voice might betray everything I'd tried to hide: the stupid burning jealousy.
Finally, mercifully, she left. Her expensive sweet rose perfume clung to the air as Lorenzo walked back toward me.
"You ready to continue?" he asked, his tone as steady as if nothing had happened.
I clenched my jaw, my face hot with an anger I didn't dare name. "Actually, I'm done!"
His brows furrowed slightly. "We've barely started."
"I want to leave," I snapped, glaring up at him. Before he could answer, I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and marched toward the exit.
I didn't stop until I was inside the car, slamming the door harder than necessary. My chest heaved, my arms crossed tight as if they could keep all the messy feelings inside.
A minute later, Lorenzo slid into the driver's seat. As he started the engine, he finally said, "Veronica is a business associate."
I rolled my eyes without looking at him. "I never asked."
"I just thought you should know."
"Well, I don't want to know," I shot back. "Keep the information to yourself!"
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, then back to the road. "You're angry?"
"No, I'm not." My voice was sharp, brittle.
"Yes, you are," he said quietly. "Is it because of what she said earlier?"
"Of course not!" I barked, crossing my arms tighter, staring hard at the window. My pulse, however, betrayed me. My flushed face, my shallow breathing, the heat simmering under my skin, it all screamed what I refused to admit.
"Okay," he said simply, dropping the subject, though he didn't seem to believe it through the look on his face.
The car filled with strained awkwardness, broken only by the hum of the engine. Then Lorenzo's phone buzzed against the console. He pressed a button on the wheel, answering through the car's speaker.
"Lorenzo!" My brother's voice exploded through the car, loud and cheerful, making me jump. "Finally! You're alive. Why the hell haven't you been picking up your calls?"
Lorenzo's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. "I've been busy, Adams."
"Really?" My brother chuckled, his voice carrying a teasing edge. "Well, you'd better come home soon, because guess who's waiting for you in your apartment?"
Lorenzo's eyes flicked to mine for a split second... sharp, warning, almost desperate. But I frowned, my heart sinking.
"Who is it?" He finally asked.
"Yeah," my brother continued, laughing. "That lady with the big… tits and ass you slept with in Paris last week, she's here. Says she misses you."
Lorenzo's eyes instantly locked with mine... And in that moment, I wished I could disappear.