Page 93 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
35
MIA
I’ve developed a prettyimpressive tolerance for shocking revelations lately.
Waking up married to a stranger? Check. Discovering the stranger runs the Las Vegas mafia? Double check. Finding severed body parts on the doorstep? Unfortunately, also check. Learning my entire family history is a lie and I’m actually cartel royalty? That one’s fresh.
But apparently I haven’t reached my limit yet.
“You want a divorce?”
I barely recognize the sound of my own voice. We just made love. There’s no other word for what happened between us. It was raw and desperate and beautiful, like our souls were trying to fuse together through skin and sweat and breathless whispers.
And now he wants to end it.
My chest feels like it’s caving in on itself.
“No.” Lorenzo’s grip tightens on my hand when I try to pull away. “Christ, no. I don’t want that at all.”
I blink at him, confusion cutting through the panic. “Then why?—”
“Because I fucked everything up from the beginning.” His voice is rough, self-loathing bleeding through every word. “I tricked you into marrying me for all the wrong reasons. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it right, and this is all I’ve got.”
He sits up, running his free hand through his hair until it sticks up in about twelve different directions. It’s the first time I’ve seen him look anything less than perfectly composed. Well, besides the part where he murdered someone in front of me.
And somehow, despite everything, that disheveled vulnerability makes my heart crack open even wider.
“I want to give you a choice,” he continues. “A real one this time. You deserve that.”
“What about the alliance?”
The question slips out before I can stop it. Part of me hates that I’m even asking. Shouldn’t I be more concerned about us than his business dealings? But the practical side of my brain is already calculating what this means for his war with the Bratva.
“I’ll still approach Miguel. Try to convince him without using you as leverage.” Lorenzo shrugs, but I catch the tension in his shoulders. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll figure something else out. I’m resourceful.”
Resourceful.That’s one word for it.
I think back to that first morning when I demanded an annulment, how desperately I wanted to escape this marriage I couldn’t remember agreeing to. The whole thing felt like a cosmic joke. Me, trapped with some gorgeous criminal who thought he could just claim me like property.
But all that changed so quickly. First, he intrigued me. But over time, I fell completely for him. He was strong, smart and funny. But most importantly, he made me feel seen. Every day, he soaked up as much information about me as he could, spent as much time with me as possible while still running his criminal empire.
He told me he wasobsessedwith me, and I didn’t let that scare me away because it made me feel special and important. I had a powerful man in the palm of my hand.
Or so I thought.
My nose burns and tears flood my eyes. I try to turn away from him so he doesn’t see, but he doesn’t let me hide. Rolling me back onto my back, he hovers over me with his brow furrowed, concern in his dark eyes.
“Why are you crying, baby? What’s wrong?”
The gentle tone is my undoing. All that hurt and betrayal I’ve been shoving down comes rushing to the surface.
“Are you serious right now?” The words explode out of me. “You’re asking why I’m upset when the man I love just told me he wants a divorce?”
The admission hangs between us like a live grenade.
I try to scramble away from him, desperate to put some distance between us before I fall apart completely. The sheet tanglesaround my legs as I fight my way out of bed, grabbing his discarded shirt from the floor and shoving my arms through the sleeves.
When I finally work up the courage to look at him, Lorenzo is still sitting in bed, gloriously naked and wearing the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.
