Chapter 3 - “Eat,” he said.
He did not make a bowl for himself. He simply poured 2 fingers of amber liquid into a crystal glass and watched her.
Nora picked up the fork. Her hand was trembling slightly. The pasta was perfect. Sharp, salty, rich. She took the first few bites slowly, stubbornly, but then her body took over, starved for real sustenance, and she devoured the rest.
Lorenzo watched the tense line of her shoulders slowly drop. He took a sip of his drink.
“I bought the diner today,” he said quietly.
Nora choked on her last bite. She coughed, clutching her ribs as a sharp spike of pain radiated through her chest.
“You what?”
“I bought the diner. The building, the lot, the grease traps, all of it.”
“Why?” Nora demanded, her voice rising. “Did you fire Hector? Did you fire the manager?”
“I fired the manager. I kept Hector. He knows how to keep his mouth shut when bleeding men walk into his kitchen.”
Lorenzo swirled the liquor in his glass.
“I bought it because I’m going to tear it down next month. It’s an eyesore. I’m putting a parking garage there.”
“You’re bulldozing it?”
Nora felt a sudden, bizarre rush of vertigo. The diner was a hellhole, but it was her hellhole. It was the only constant she had had for 3 years.
“Just like that? You just erase things?”
“I erase things that serve no purpose,” Lorenzo said, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “That place was suffocating you. Your apartment was a trap. Your brother was an anchor dragging you underwater. They are gone now. The board is wiped clean.”
“And what does that make me?”
Nora stood, ignoring the flare of pain. Her voice was shaking with raw, unfiltered anger.
“Another piece on your clean board? A pet you keep in a tower because I wrapped you in duct tape once?”
Lorenzo slammed his glass down. The crystal did not break, but the sound cracked like a gunshot in the quiet kitchen.
He crossed the space between them in 2 massive strides, crowding her against the counter.
Nora did not back down. She tilted her chin up, glaring into the bruised-fruit darkness of his eyes.
“You are not a pet,” Lorenzo growled, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
His hands clamped down on the marble counter on either side of her hips, caging her in. The heat rolling off him was suffocating.
“You are the only person in this godforsaken city who looked at a dying man and saw a chore instead of a payday. You have no fear, Nora, and you have no idea what that does to a man like me.”
“I’m terrified of you,” she breathed, her heart hammering wildly against her bruised ribs.
“Liar,” Lorenzo murmured.
He leaned in, his nose brushing the side of her jaw. He inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of her skin.
“You are terrified of the world, but you aren’t terrified of me. If you were, you wouldn’t be yelling at me in my own kitchen.”
He was right, and that terrified her more than anything.
May you like
He did not kiss her.
He simply stepped back, the cold air rushing in to fill the space his body had occupied. He picked up his glass and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her alone with the smell of garlic, the empty bowl, and the devastating realization that she did not want to leave.
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