The ride home was torture.
Lorenzo didn't say a word, not a single explanation or an attempt to deny what my brother had just blurted about Paris. His jaw was tight, his hands gripping the wheel, and eyes fixed firmly on the road as if nothing had happened.
And that silence was worse than anything to me.
When we finally pulled into the garage, I yanked the door open before the car even fully stopped. The slam echoed, sharp and angry, but I didn't care. My chest burned, my throat tight with a mess of emotions I couldn't control.
He followed behind me as I stormed through the entrance, his long strides deliberate, calm, infuriatingly composed compared to the chaos inside me.
Then I froze. Sitting on the living room sofa was her. The so-called "big tits" woman.
She was even worse in person... half her cleavage spilling out of a too-tight, white mini dress that looked one wrong move away from disaster. She crossed her long legs elegantly, a sly smile tugging at her glossy nude plump lips.
"Oh, hi," she purred, giving me a little wave as if we were girlfriends.
I didn't wave back or say a word because everything in me was burning. So this was the kind of woman Lorenzo slept with. Shiny, polished, fake. Everything I wasn't.
My chest squeezed painfully. My hands trembled at my sides as I turned sharply and marched toward the stairs, ignoring her entirely.
In my room, I slammed the door shut and locked it with a bang that rattled the frame. My back pressed against the wood as my vision blurred.
"This is stupid, Alessia," I told myself. "You should have known better and never let yourself feel this way."
I wasn't like her. I wasn't glamorous, seductive, or experienced. I was clumsy, messy, still figuring out my life and haven't even had my first kiss because of him! Women like her could pull him into bed with a single look. Women like her belonged in his world but never me.
Maybe it was time to stop this ridiculous crush once and for all...
★★★
~Lorenzo's POV~
I watched Alessia storm upstairs, the slam of her door echoing like a gunshot in my chest.
What the hell was wrong with her? She'd been acting strange since the gym... snapping, glaring, slamming doors. And now she ignored me entirely, like we are having lovers quarrel.
How absurd!
But I didn't have time to chase after her, because there was another problem sitting right in front of me.
"Hello, Lorenzo," the woman on the sofa drawled, uncrossing her legs slowly, deliberately. "Miss me?"
My face hardened instantly. Coldness settled over me like armor. "What are you doing here, Claire?"
She stood gracefully, closing the distance between us with a sway of her hips.
"I called you but you didn't pick," she murmured, her painted red nails brushing against my chest before trailing lower, "I miss you."
"You don't have the right to call me anymore because we ended whatever this was in Paris!"
"Did we?" Her lips curved into a smirk. "Well, I don't remember you complaining then not to contact you."
Her hand slid down further, boldly grabbing me through my joggers. Rage surged in me like ice. I caught her wrist in a brutal grip and yanked her hand away.
"Don't you dare touch me!" My voice dropped, cold and lethal.
She pouted, leaning closer. "Don't be like that, Lorenzo. You and I… we fit."
"You must be insane thinking that!" I snapped. Grabbing her arm, I shoved her back and dragged her toward the door, ignoring her squeals of protest. "Get out!"
"Lorenzo, wait! What's gotten into you—"
"OUT!" My voice boomed through the penthouse, sharp and merciless. The terrifying edge even made her stumble in her heels.
I flung the door open and all but pushed her into the hall. "Don't come back here again. Not ever!"
Her face twisted into a mix of outrage and fear, but she didn't argue. She huffed, spun on her heel, and stormed down the hallway, her perfume finally fading.
I slammed the door behind her, my entire body buzzing with fury.
For five years, I'd kept myself locked away, refusing intimacy beyond fleeting encounters, refusing to let anyone close. Women like Claire weren't anything to me. Just empty distractions to calm my body, occasionally.
But tonight, for the first time in a long time, I cared. Not about Claire, but about Alessia. And the way she looked at me earlier, like I'd betrayed her... made something inside me twist painfully.
No, I'm feeling this way because she's like a little sister to me as well. This couldn't go on. She needed to understand and hear it from me, no matter how hard it would be.
I climbed the stairs, each step heavier than the last. I stopped at her door, staring at the wood as if it were her eyes boring into mine.
I knocked once... firm and commanding but she didn't respond.
"Alessia, come downstairs, now. We need to talk." I uttered, leaving no room for defiance and walked away...
★★★
~Alessia's POV~
I hesitated outside the living room door, my hands trembling slightly. My chest felt tight, my pulse racing as if it could betray me at any moment. Every nerve in my body screamed to go back to my room, but stubborn pride or pure foolishness, pushed me forward.
I opened the door and stepped into the room.
There he was, Lorenzo, seated on the sofa with his casual elegance despite the earlier chaos, and eyes fixed on me... radiating a heat that made my stomach twist in ways I hated.
I folded my arms, lifting my chin up a bit. My face burned, but I forced an angry mask over the turmoil inside.
"I'm here. Happy now?" I snapped, trying to sound more irritated than flustered.
Lorenzo didn't move or smile. He didn't even take a breath that betrayed emotion, just studied me for a long moment, then leaned his body forward.
"Alessia… why are you acting so childish and petty?" His tone was cold.
My pride flared instantly. Childish? Petty? I shot him a glare that could have killed. "What are you insinuating?" I spat, teeth gritted.
Lorenzo's eyes darkened, the anger there undeniable--anger I had never seen in him before. It was terrifying and it made my heart hammer faster.
"Why this sudden change in attitude toward me since the gym? Since the call earlier?"
My stomach dropped. I opened my mouth to retort, words spilling out before thought could intervene. "Screw you!" I bit my tongue for just a fraction too late, and the word escaped anyway.
His head snapped toward me, gray eyes blazing with fury.
"Alessia!" His commanding voice roared through the room. "You are acting like a child! A spoiled brat who will not last long in a firm with an attitude like this!"
I blinked, momentarily shocked, before my pride rose like a phoenix from the ashes. "I am not a brat!" I shot back, my voice trembling with anger and humiliation.
Lorenzo's fists clenched at his sides, and I could see he was trying to control himself but I don't give a damn anymore!
"If it weren't for your brother…" His words tumbled out. "…I would have told you to pack your things this instant and leave my house!"
I froze. The words reverberated through my body, each syllable a dagger. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, unbidden, almost spilling down my cheeks.
How could the man I had loved, crushed on, and fantasized about for six years say such things so casually and effortlessly? As if it were nothing. As if I were nothing.
I could barely breathe. Pride and pain warred inside me, burning hotter than any embarrassment I had ever felt before.
I stood up abruptly, heart pounding like a war drum, fists tight at my sides. "Fine! I will leave your house now. Bye!"
With that, I turned toward the front door and left...