Not Afraid of the Mafia Heir’s Threat Chapter 05

I kept it vague. “It’s nothing. I just don’t think we’re right for each other.”

My mother sighed. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

“That boy was always too restless for his own good. Ending it now may save you pain later.”

“Don’t worry about the Conti family. Your father will handle them.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept my voice steady. “Mom, don’t tell Lorenzo’s family yet.”

There were still a few things I needed to take care of before I ended this for good.

She sighed again. “Okay. We’ll do it your way.”

“Sweetheart, if you’re unhappy, just come home.”

“I’m here.”

I ended the call too fast.

My eyes burned.

But I couldn’t cry anymore.

Curled up on the bed, I finally fell into a heavy sleep.

Six days left.

In six days, the photos would be gone.

And Lorenzo and I would be done.

No more crossing paths.

When I woke up, the tear stains on my face still hadn’t dried.

The apartment was a wreck.

I poured myself a glass of water and called a cleaning service.

The housekeeper arrived quickly.

She looked stunned. “Miss, are you sure all of this is supposed to go?”

I nodded and said quietly, “Thank you.”

She didn’t ask again.

She just got to work.

I stood on the balcony.

If I reached out, I could brush the tender new leaves growing from the branches outside.

Everything looked full of life.

Below me, the river was washed in the pale gold of morning, moving along, kept moving, endless and alive.

Back in high school, when life felt like nothing but pressure and deadlines, Lorenzo and I both lived on campus.

I used to say all the time, “When I get to college, I’m buying a place by the river. Trees outside, sunlight everywhere, big windows.”

Lorenzo would lean against the railing and listen without saying much.

The wind tugging at the hem of his uniform jacket until all I could see was that blur of white.

He almost never agreed with me just to agree.

But that time, he’d looked out into the distance and given a quiet, “Okay.”

I never expected him to remember.

But when freshman year started, he gave me exactly that apartment.

Exactly the way I’d described it.

My eyes stung again.

I sniffed once and turned back inside.

The housekeeper came out of the storage room looking regretful. “Are you sure you want to throw out the dog bed, the dog food, and these little dog sweaters too?”

“Oh, and there’s an unopened box of allergy medicine in here.”

I froze for a second.

A month ago, I’d said I wanted a dog.

Lorenzo had pinched my cheek and murmured in that low voice of his, “No.”

“I’m allergic to dog hair. What, you don’t want your future husband anymore?”

So I had let it go.

But looking at those things now, all I felt was bitterness spreading through me.

A person could change in a month.

That was all it took.

I shook my head. “Throw them out.”

“All of it.”

Thirty minutes later, the apartment looked normal again.

Only the photos of us were gone.

In the end, I packed just one bag.

Slung over my shoulder, it felt almost weightless.

Before I left, I stood there and took one last look around.

Lorenzo and I had curled up on that couch and watched comedies together.

We had cooked in that kitchen.

Broken the showerhead in the bathroom.

There were too many memories here.

Far too many.

And I couldn’t carry them with me.

So I left them there.

I reached for the doorknob.

The door suddenly flew open from the other side.

I stumbled back in shock.

Lorenzo stood there in the doorway.

His face was dark, and cold anger rolled off him like winter air.

“Was it you who told my mother about Gianna?”

I braced one hand against the table, confused. “What?”

Lorenzo stepped in and caged me in with his body. “Sera, all I did was get a little close to Gianna.”

“Did you really have to go running to my mother over that?”

“She cried all night. Her eyes are still swollen.”

I tried to follow what he was saying.

But I’d barely slept for days, and I was too tired to think straight.

“So,” I asked weakly, “your mother went after Gianna?”

Lorenzo didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

I kept my voice patient. “Did she say why?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint, mocking smile. “Sera, stop acting. It’s pathetic.”

“If you did it, own it.”

He looked down at me like the verdict had already been decided.

Like I’d already been found guilty.

There was no point, but I tried anyway. “I didn’t.”

Whatever patience he had left snapped.

A pulse jumped in his temple as anger sharpened his voice. “Gianna’s not like you.”

“She’s not after my protection. She was lonely. She just wanted someone to talk to.”

“She has no interest in marrying into a mafia family.”

He closed the space between us and trapped me in his arms again.

His tone turned patient, coaxing, like he was trying to reason with a child. “I’m not going to marry her. The only woman who’ll ever be my Donna is you.”

“So why take this to my mother?”

“Sera, apologize to Gianna.”