Page 4 of Reckless Games

"Ummm..." she stammered, clearly taken aback by the abrupt intrusion. Her eyes darted between me and Giovanni, uncertainty clouding her features. Giovanni's expression softened into one of relief as he caught sight of me, but I met his gaze with a glare, silently reprimanding him for his lack of discretion.

"I guess your friends are here," she muttered nervously, shooting me an uneasy glance. His careless entrance had only succeeded in unnerving her further, and I cursed his thoughtlessness once again. I was glad they at least kept the guns out of sight. I could only imagine what the hospital security would have done otherwise.

Giovanni moved toward the bed, offering me his support. One glare from me, and he stepped back. My shoulder was injured, not my feet. I could still walk. Removing the various tubes connected to my left hand, I got out of bed. We made our way out, the girl trailing behind us in silence. I grabbed the bag Giovanni had brought, as I had instructed, and pulled out my clothes. He stepped out of the room while she continued to stareat me, her jaw hanging low. Something churned inside me, and my curiosity piqued to know what her reaction to my next move would be.

Without warning, I pulled the gown over my head, making her squeal and turn to face the door. “Wh... what are you doing?” she stammered. How fucking adorable! I smirked, ignoring her, before continuing to change my clothes. Once done, I headed for the door.

“You're leaving?” she asked, sounding shocked. “The doctor still hasn't discharged you.” Giovanni joined me, and nobody bothered to answer her. I was relieved the doctor wasn't anywhere in sight. As we reached the empty corridor, I came to a sudden halt. I signaled my men and Giovanni to give us some privacy in the empty corridor. They obeyed, walking ahead with a knowing nod.

"Remember to take plenty of rest and refrain from exerting yourself," she instructed softly, realizing there wasn’t anything she could do to stop me from leaving. My gaze locked with hers as I turned around. I nodded in understanding, my eyes reflecting a sense of softness I never knew before today.

Taking a step closer, I leaned in until my lips brushed against her ear, earning a gasp from her. "Lorenzo," I whispered, relishing the slight shudder that ran through her body at the sound of my name. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep whiff of her intoxicating scent. She didn’t smell sweet, like those typical girly scents. She smelled musky and spicy. Inhaling deeply again, I took in the warm cinnamon and citrus scent that clung to her skin. Yep, now that was even better than cocaine. A smirk tugged at my lips, hidden from her view, as I pulled away and began to make my way towards the exit.

"Take care, Lorenzo," she murmured softly, her words tinged with a hint of affection. Though she couldn't see it, her parting words brought warmth to my heart. With one finalglance over my shoulder, I left, my mind already set on one thing.

I will return soon, Angel.

***

Chapter 1

Present; Angela: 24, Lorenzo: 31

Angela

"Love me, love me. Say that you love me," Emily belted out at the top of her lungs, causing my ears to throb with each off-key note. She gyrated to the imaginary beat, oblivious to the death stares I was inflicting at her.

"Would you please stop that? How many times do I have to remind you that your singing resembles a dying hyena?" I sighed, shaking my head at the live wire in Cafe Bistrovia. "You're going to scare off the customers."

Emily flashed me a mischievous grin. "Oh, come on now. We all know I'm the life of this place. You'd all be bored stiff without me." She winked at a passing customer, who flashed her a toothy grin in return.

"Order up!" The chef's voice echoed from the kitchen window, diverting Emily's attention as she deftly balanced three plates laden with penne pasta, Italian steak, and a juicy hamburger.

"Gotta go," she chirped, bustling off to serve the waiting tables.

"Remind her not to sing next time, or we'll all end up deaf," Marco, our seasoned chef, quipped from the kitchen.

"I heard that, Marco!" I chuckled, enjoying the banter between the two.

Life had settled into a monotonous routine since my parents' tragic accident. Get up, work to survive, eat, sleep, and repeat. I longed for something to break the monotony and inject excitement into my mundane existence.

And then, twelve months ago, he walked into my life. With stormy silver eyes that held depths I could drown in, he swept me off my feet with a single glance. For a brief moment, life felt electric, full of promise and possibility.

But like a passing storm, he vanished as quickly as he appeared, leaving me yearning for more. And so, I returned to the same old routine. He should have at least left his number out of courtesy. At least in the name of gratitude for practically saving his life. I had tried reaching his friend’s number that he called with my phone that day, but I figured he already blocked me after I got no response.

As time passed, his absence only fueled my thoughts, leading them back to him with alarming frequency. Okay, who was I kidding? My mind practically lived in his orbit. Did he ever think of me? Did he miss me as much as I missed him?

But then reality crashed down on me like a wave, washing away any romantic notions. Why would he miss me when we barely knew each other? What I felt was just attraction, I reminded myself. Plus, why would someone likehimas much as even glance twice at someone likeme? Would he even remember me if our paths crossed again, or would I become just another stranger in his life? The weight of these questions pressed down on me, threatening to suffocate any hope I held onto. I shook my head, attempting to dispel the thoughts as Emily returned, a radiant smile plastered across her face. She carried a bouquet of roses and a bag.

"Who's that from?" I blurted out, unable to contain my curiosity.

Surprisingly, she shook her head. "Not for me, but for you!" she exclaimed, her grin widening.

"For me?" I echoed, taken aback.

"Yes, and there's more," she chirped, handing me the bouquet and a small card. I frowned and opened it, reading the message inside.

Even when apart, my thoughts are woven with threads of your presence, wrapping me in a blanket of warmth that knows no bounds. In your presence, I found my heaven and my hell, for even the devil yearns for the embrace of an angel like you.

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