Chapter 2 - The Groom’s Wrath
The silence in the service pantry was absolute. Lorenzo stared at the piece of paper in his hands, the ink of Vanessa’s signature mocking him. Three days ago. For three days, Vanessa and Celeste had plotted to humiliate Elena on the morning of her wedding, and they had done it knowing Lorenzo would be too preoccupied with syndicate business to notice. Or worse—knowing he wouldn't care enough to stop them.
The phone in his pocket vibrated. It was Marco.
“Boss, the alderman is waiting, and the florists are asking about the altar arrangements. Also, Celeste is asking for you in the West Wing.”
Lorenzo crushed the receipt in his fist. “Cancel the florists, Marco.”
“Excuse me?”
“Cancel the florists. Turn away the caterers. Lock the front gates. Nobody gets in. The wedding is off.”
Lorenzo didn’t wait for his security chief to respond. He moved through the mansion like a localized storm. The anger radiating from him was so palpable that staff members flattened themselves against the walls as he passed. He found Celeste and Vanessa in the main drawing room. Vanessa was no longer in the wedding dress; she was sipping champagne in a silk robe, laughing at something on her phone.
“Lorenzo, darling,” Celeste said, smiling brightly as he entered. “Are we ready for the photographers?”
Lorenzo locked the double doors behind him. The heavy click echoed like a gunshot.
“Where is she?” Lorenzo’s voice was dangerously soft. The tone he used right before someone in his underworld disappeared.
Vanessa’s smile faltered. “Who? Elena? She’s probably throwing a tantrum in her room.”
He threw the crushed dry-cleaning receipt onto the glass coffee table. “You planned this. You requisitioned the dress three days ago.”
Celeste sat up straighter, sensing the lethal shift in the room. “Lorenzo, be reasonable. The girl has always been fragile. She isn’t built for your world. Vanessa, on the other hand—”
“Get out.”
Vanessa blinked. “What?”
“You have exactly ten minutes to pack whatever you can carry. Anything bought with my money stays. If you are on my property in eleven minutes, I will have Marco drag you by your hair to the curb.”
“You can’t do this!” Vanessa shrieked, standing up. “We’re family! She’s nothing!”
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Lorenzo closed the distance, looming over her until she shrank back into the sofa. “She was everything. I was just too blind to see you suffocating her. Ten minutes.”
As the women scrambled in terror, Lorenzo looked out the massive bay windows. The caterers were packing up. The white roses were being thrown away. He had built an empire of blood and money, but he had failed to protect the only purely good thing he had ever possessed. He had lost her. And he had no idea where she was.
