Lorenzo: A Grumpy/ Sunshine, Dark mafia Romance (Chicago Ruthless Book 3)
Lorenzo: Chapter 31

It’s not an unfamiliar feeling that settles over me as I walk toward the study. The house seems quieter and darker than before, although I’m aware it’s exactly the same.

I shake my head, annoyed that I’m wallowing in a misery of my own making. So, I miss her. It means nothing. She inserted herself into my life from the moment she arrived here—of course I fucking miss her. I threw myself into the arrangements for her new identity in Iowa because it was the perfect distraction and because it made it easier to let her go if I knew she’d be safe. According to Lionel, Brad’s still in Panama, and Mia now has a secure house in a quiet neighborhood where nobody will ask questions about a woman who just moved from Arizona for a change of pace. I avoided her too. Under the misguided notion that not being around her would make her absence less difficult to bear.

None of that helped with the loss I feel today. It hurts just as much as if I’d held her in my arms up to the last second. Even when I was avoiding her, she was still here. Her laughter echoed around these walls, her scent filled every room she left. She made this house a home for me again.

But it was all an illusion. She can’t replace Anya’s position in my life or in this house. No one can.

Max walks into my office, his expression full of anguish. Oh, fuck. “What’s wrong? Is it Joey?”

“No. Everyone’s fine,” he assures me, and a wave of relief washes over me.

“So what the fuck’s wrong with your face, compagno?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. He wasn’t this fucking nervous when I caught him at his cabin with my sister. “I’m sorry, Loz.” His voice cracks with emotion, and adrenaline thunders around my body. “I should’ve seen it.” He places his large hands over his eyes, like he can’t bear to look at me.

“What the fuck are you going on about, Max?” I ask with a snarl, a million different scenarios running through my head.

“This.” He pulls a white envelope from the inside of his suit pocket. “She asked me to give it to you when the time was right, but I didn’t know it was the right time. You told me it was just sex. She was the first woman …” He shakes his head again, nervous energy radiating from him. “I didn’t realize how much she meant to you until I saw how miserable you’ve been since she left. It’s almost like when—” He coughs.

“Are you talking about Mia?” It’s been a week since she left, and I’ve barely slept or thought of anything but her. I’ll get over it. It’s nothing compared to Anya.

I glance at the envelope in his hand. A letter from Mia? That doesn’t make sense. It must be from— My heart races and I struggle to catch my breath. “What is that? Who asked you to give it to me?”

He holds out the white envelope and I see her distinctive writing. Tears well in my eyes. I slam my hands on the desk and everything on it shakes violently. “You had a letter from my wife, and you’ve kept it to yourself for over two years?” My voice is quiet. Calm. Deadly.

“She made me promise, Loz.” He places the envelope on my desk. “I fucking hated keeping it from you, but she made me …”

I stare at my name written in her beautiful cursive handwriting. He had a letter from my wife, and he kept it from me. Anger wells up like a volcano and I glower at him, ready to tear his head off his fucking shoulders. “You kept it from me.”

“She made me—”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“Read it and you’ll see why,” he says, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not sorry I kept it from you, Loz, but I am sorry I didn’t give it to you weeks ago. So you can hate me all you want, but you’ll never hate me as much as I’ll hate myself if I fucked this up for you.”

“Get the fuck out!”

He blinks at me.

I snarl, lip curled and nostrils flaring as indescribable rage courses through me, blurring my vision and rendering me immobile.

“Now.” My chest heaves with the effort of not killing him.

“Nobody else knew, Loz. I didn’t even tell Joey.” With that, he walks out, leaving me alone. I glance at my desk, at the innocuous-looking white envelope that just turned my whole goddamn world upside down. With trembling fingers, I pick it up and lift it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I hoped for her scent, but it smells of Max’s cologne.

Placing it back down, I sit and stare at it. Once I open it and read her words, they’ll be gone. I’ll know them and there will be nothing new of her left.

I have no idea how much time passes while I sit and look at the damn thing, wondering why the hell she gave it to Max and not me—or even to Dante. He never would have been able to keep this from me. Is that why she chose Max?

My hands shake as I pull it open. It’s not sealed, and I recall Max’s words. Read it and you’ll see why. How dare he read her final words to me!

My rage is washed away by a wave of bone-crushing sadness at the sight of the pale pink pages that spill from the envelope. I hold these to my nose also and sob when I replace her sweet vanilla scent.

I open the pages slowly, careful not to tear or blemish the delicate paper, and I read.

My dearest Lorenzo.

I know you hate surprises, my darling. This is the last one from me, I promise. If Max has given you this letter, it must be time. Asking you not to be mad at him for keeping it from you is like asking the sun not to set, but please know that I chose him because he loves you like a brother, yet he’s strong enough to see you in pain and still do what’s best for you. Don’t spend too long punishing him for only doing what I asked. I trust him to know when the time is right. He won’t let either of us down.

So, you’ve met someone, right? I hope she is everything you need and want. I hope she makes you smile again, my dearest love. If I know anything though, it’s that you’ll be fighting your feelings, pushing her away and letting guilt consume you for loving her after you promised to only love me.

My Lorenzo, my darling. My everything. Our love was timeless. Perfect. It will never be replicated or repeated.

That doesn’t mean you can’t replace a whole new kind of love. She might be exactly like me or nothing like me—all that matters is that she makes you happy.

My greatest regret in leaving you comes from my fear that you will spend the rest of your life in darkness. Please don’t, my darling. It would break my heart a million times to think of you never again experiencing all the joy that life has to offer. Your love for another does not diminish your love for me, and you honor my memory by allowing your heart to beat for another.

I wish that I could write more, but you know how easily my hands tire now. Besides, you are a man of few words.

So I’ll leave you with this—grief is the price we pay for love. Would you trade any of your pain if it meant we lost even a second of our time together? I know you well enough to know your answer. You would endure a thousand years of torment for one more kiss, one more dance, one more anything. Do not let fear of loss stop you from living, Lorenzo. And know, that no matter what you do, I will always be proud of you.

So go live enough for both of us, content with the knowledge that the piece of your heart you gave me is safe in my hands for eternity.

Until we meet again, my dearest love,

Anya x