Chapter 8 - Fire at Le ClovisSmoke was visible from six blocks away.
Nora sat in the rear of the armored SUV beside Lorenzo.
His injured arm had been wrapped tightly by Thomas.
The bullet had passed through muscle.
He needed stitches.
He refused.
Nora had stopped arguing after the third attempt.
Le Clovis burned against the dark sky.
Flames climbed through the upper windows.
Fire engines surrounded the street.
Patrons and staff stood behind police barriers.
Some still wore dinner clothes.
Others were wrapped in emergency blankets.
Lorenzo said nothing.
The restaurant had been more than a business.
Nora knew that now.
It had been the one place where he had not felt the phantom weight of a gun against his ribs.
His refuge.
Dante had known exactly what to destroy.
The SUV stopped in an alley two streets away.
Thomas turned.
“Police everywhere.”
Lorenzo opened the door.
“You cannot go near the building.”
“I own it.”
“That is exactly why you cannot go near the building.”
Thomas pointed through the windshield.
“Reporters.”
“Fire investigators.”
“Police.”
“Half the city knows Costa businesses by reputation.”
Lorenzo stared at the flames.
Nora touched his uninjured sleeve.
The contact surprised both of them.
“Thomas is right.”
Lorenzo looked at her hand.
She removed it.
“Going there doesn’t save the restaurant.”
His jaw tightened.
“It’s already gone.”
He turned toward the window again.
“No.”
Nora understood.
The building was not what he meant.
The restaurant contained years.
Memories.
A life he had built after killing the man who built the empire before him.
Nora thought about her apartment.
The Bertinellis had torn it apart.
She had not even seen the damage.
She realized she did not care about most of what was inside.
Furniture could be replaced.
Clothes could be replaced.
But there had been one box beneath her bed.
Photographs.
Letters from Hannah.
A bracelet from their mother.
Maybe destroyed.
Greg had controlled the apartment for so long that Nora had stopped treating it like home.
Lorenzo had not.
Le Clovis had been his.
“I’m sorry.”
She whispered.
He did not answer.
Thomas’s phone rang.
He listened.
Then turned around.
“Staff accounted for.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“All?”
“All.”
“Customers?”
“Three minor smoke inhalation.”
“No fatalities.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes briefly.
Nora felt some of the tension leave his body.
“Dante?”
“No sign.”
Thomas continued.
“But we found something.”
A photograph appeared on his phone.
A black spray-painted symbol marked the brick wall behind Le Clovis.
A crown split in half.
Lorenzo stared.
“What is it?”
Nora asked.
“My father’s symbol.”
She looked at him.
“Dante knew?”
“Everyone in that generation knew.”
Thomas frowned.
“There’s writing beneath it.”
He zoomed.
THE LAST COSTA FALLS SUNDAY.
Nora’s stomach tightened.
“What’s Sunday?”
Lorenzo answered.
“My mother’s birthday.”
Silence filled the SUV.
Dante was no longer attacking businesses.
He was digging into graves.
They returned to the estate before dawn.
The traitors had been removed.
Security had been replaced with men from a different branch of Lorenzo’s organization.
Nobody trusted anyone.
Lorenzo went directly to his office.
Nora followed.
“You need a doctor.”
“Later.”
“You’re bleeding through the bandage.”
“I noticed.”
“Apparently your observation skills are excellent too.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Nora stood in front of the desk.
“Sit.”
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow.
“Did Maria promote you?”
“Sit.”
He did.
Nora called Wyatt.
The physician arrived twenty minutes later.
He stitched Lorenzo’s arm while complaining continuously.
“You mafia idiots believe blood is decorative.”
Lorenzo ignored him.
Nora remained near the window.
Wyatt finished.
“No heavy lifting.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
Wyatt sighed.
“Fine.”
“No getting shot again.”
“That seems more realistic.”
He packed his bag.
Then looked at Nora.
“Ribs?”
“Still attached.”
“Good.”
After Wyatt left, Nora returned to the desk.
Lorenzo opened a map.
“Dante will move again before Sunday.”
“How do you know?”
“Because dramatic men lack patience.”
Nora sat across from him.
“What does Sunday mean?”
He remained silent.
“You already told me it was your mother’s birthday.”
“Yes.”
“What happened on her birthday?”
“Many things.”
“Lorenzo.”
He looked at her.
“Why does Dante think it matters?”
Lorenzo leaned back.
“My mother died six years ago.”
Nora’s voice softened.
“How?”
“Cancer.”
The answer surprised her.
After everything else, ordinary illness seemed almost crueler.
“She spent her final months in a house near Lake Michigan.”
“Not here?”
“No.”
“She hated this house.”
Nora understood why.
“She asked me to take her away.”
“So you did.”
“Yes.”
“Sunday?”
Lorenzo nodded.
“Every year on her birthday, I go to the lake house.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
Nora’s heart sank.
“Dante knows.”
“Apparently.”
“So Sunday is a trap.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
She realized how absurd the command sounded.
Still:
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because if I do not, Dante chooses another target.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
Lorenzo opened a drawer.
“He wants me isolated.”
“He believes grief makes me predictable.”
Nora shook her head.
“So don’t be predictable.”
“He has already threatened your sister.”
“My sister is guarded.”
“He burned Le Clovis.”
“That doesn’t mean you walk into his next plan.”
Lorenzo stood.
“You wanted a place in the conversation.”
His voice remained calm.
“You have one.”
“That does not give you authority.”
Nora stared at him.
“Then why listen to me at all?”
The question stopped him.
She continued.
“You surround yourself with men who obey.”
“Vincent obeyed for fourteen years while stealing from you.”
Lorenzo’s face hardened.
Nora did not stop.
“Maybe obedience isn’t as valuable as you think.”
Silence.
“You want to go to the lake house because you’re angry.”
“No.”
“You want him to come.”
“Yes.”
“So you can kill him.”
“Yes.”
Nora exhaled.
“At least you’re consistent.”
Lorenzo walked toward the bar.
He reached for Scotch.
His wounded arm pulled.
He stopped.
Nora took the bottle first.
He stared at her.
“You’re injured.”
She poured.
“You’re not helpless.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
She handed him the glass.
“I hate helpless men.”
Lorenzo’s mouth finally curved.
Small.
Brief.
Real.
Nora stared.
“You can smile.”
“Rare medical condition.”
“Should I call Wyatt?”
“Immediately.”
Something in the room changed.
Not safety.
Not exactly.
But the tension became warmer.
More dangerous in a different way.
Nora realized she was standing close.
Too close.
Lorenzo noticed at the same moment.
His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth.
The stitched cut had almost healed.
Nora’s breath changed.
Neither moved.
Her body remembered men as danger.
Hands.
Pressure.
Demands.
But Lorenzo was not touching her.
He waited.
Even his gaze seemed to ask something he would not say.
Nora could step back.
She knew that.
The knowledge made staying feel different.
She lifted her chin slightly.
Lorenzo’s hand rose.
Stopped beside her face.
“May I?”
The question nearly broke her.
Greg had never asked.
Not once.
Not for kisses.
Not for sex.
Not for access to her phone.
Not for anything.
He assumed love meant permission already existed.
Nora looked at Lorenzo’s hand.
Then his face.
“Yes.”
His fingertips touched the unbruised side of her jaw.
Barely.
Her pulse jumped.
He did not pull her closer.
Did not claim.
Did not take.
He simply touched her like she was something capable of leaving.
Nora closed her eyes.
The sensation was almost unbearable.
Not because it hurt.
Because it did not.
Lorenzo’s thumb moved once along her cheek.
Then he dropped his hand.
Nora opened her eyes.
“Why did you stop?”
His gaze darkened.
“Because you’re injured.”
“I’m not made of glass.”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“That is precisely the problem.”
Her heartbeat accelerated.
“What problem?”
Lorenzo stepped back.
“You do not know what you want yet.”
Anger replaced vulnerability.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“No.”
“I decide what I will participate in.”
He looked at her.
“You left an abusive relationship forty-eight hours ago.”
“Your home was destroyed.”
“Your sister was threatened.”
“You were almost abducted.”
“And you have spent the last day inside my criminal organization while people try to kill us.”
His mouth tightened.
“If I kiss you now, I will wonder whether you wanted me or wanted the first man who made you feel safe.”
Nora could not answer.
Because he was right.
She hated him for it.
Lorenzo turned away.
“That does not mean never.”
Her breath caught.
He looked over his shoulder.
“It means not tonight.”
Then he left the room.
Nora remained beside the desk, furious, embarrassed, and more attracted to him than she had been thirty seconds earlier.
Sunday arrived beneath a white sky.
Snow began just after sunrise.
Nora discovered Lorenzo preparing to leave at 7:00.
He wore a dark wool coat over a shoulder holster.
Thomas waited in the foyer.
Three vehicles stood outside.
“So much for alone.”
Nora said.
Lorenzo looked at her.
“I listened.”
“To me?”
“Do not become unbearable.”
She crossed her arms carefully.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Then apparently you didn’t listen.”
“Nora.”
“You said Dante might target someone else if you don’t go.”
“Yes.”
“And I am the person he has targeted most consistently.”
“That is the argument for leaving you here.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“It’s the argument for controlling the environment.”
Lorenzo studied her.
“You’ve been thinking.”
“I’m an accountant.”
“Occasionally we do that.”
Thomas looked away to hide amusement.
Nora continued.
“If Dante expects you emotionally compromised, he expects you to protect me by keeping me away.”
“He already got inside this house once.”
“Not again.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed.
Nora held his gaze.
“I’m tired of hiding while men negotiate my existence.”
“If Dante is at the lake house because of me, I go.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
They stared.
Thomas finally spoke.
“Boss.”
Both turned.
He looked uncomfortable.
“She’s right about one thing.”
Lorenzo’s face suggested Thomas might soon regret employment.
“The estate is known.”
Thomas continued.
“Dante knows the security structure.”
“The lake house is easier to control if we sweep it first.”
Nora raised an eyebrow.
Lorenzo stared at Thomas.
“Traitor.”
“Apparently we’re clearing those out.”
Thomas replied.
Nora almost laughed.
Lorenzo exhaled.
Then looked at her.
“You stay beside Thomas.”
“Fine.”
“You do exactly what he says.”
“Within reason.”
“Everything he says will be reasonable.”
“That seems statistically unlikely.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Nora.”
She smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
“If anything changes, you leave.”
Her smile disappeared.
“All right.”
“Your word.”
She understood what he was doing.
Using the thing he valued most.
“Yes.”
Nora nodded.
“My word.”
They left.
None of them knew Dante Bertinelli was already inside the lake house.
May you like
And he was not waiting for Lorenzo.
He was waiting for Nora.
