Chapter 3

MIA

I 'd made provision for a hundred and fifty but now over two hundred people crowded Bianca's house.

Every corridor and free space was packed and milling with bodies.

The kitchen heaved, chefs produced trays, and the servers went hard, churning out food and drinks for the hungry mourners.

Moving with efficiency through the house, I restocked platters and cleaned up messes. I straightened furniture and ensured everyone was well cared for, including the priest and Bianca's closest friends.

I pushed through, unceasingly, until my body sent signals I needed the restroom.

First, I tried the hallway restroom, sighing as I spotted a line of ten women waiting.

Next, I attempted the second downstairs bathroom. It was also packed, this time with a queue of men, some of whom smiled at me, some waggling their brows at me with creepy intent.

I ran upstairs.

It was quieter here, and I breathed freer, heading for my aunt's guest bedroom toilet I'd designated as a second bathroom for men.

Only to find a burly, suited figure lurking outside the door.

The same thug who'd banished me from my seat in the chapel.

‘Fuck, not you again,' I whispered.

He raised a brow.

‘I have to get in there,' I growled, not in the mood for more of his bullshit.

He gave me an amused side glance. ‘No can do, miss, the Don is inside.'

Hit with more anger at his and his boss' bullying and downright rude attitudes and the need to pee now, I scowled.

This was not his house, and I had some rights as its caretaker.

Besides, I was also about to embarrass myself if he didn't let me in.

I waited for a minute longer, hopping from one foot to another, but still, no one exited.

Grimacing, I turned to the taciturn man. ‘I require that bathroom now, let me in or else -'

His brow rose. ‘Or else what?'

‘This,' I snapped.

With a rush of energy that surprised me, I slipped around his muscled thickness and barrelled for the door.

It wasn't locked and gave in to my hand turn.

I rushed in, only to run full tilt into a body.

A tall, lean, corded physique belonging to a man.

I stumbled back, heart racing as I took in who stood before me.

Not just any man.

Lorenzo.

His dark hair was tousled, its slicked-back style escaping its form, hinting at restlessness.

For a fleeting second, a sudden urge hit to reach for his temple and soothe the sorrow lingering in his eyes.

Then I remembered his asshole move to kick me out of church and sucked my teeth.

He caught my disdain and canted a brow, exuding power and grace like a feline predator stalking its prey.

Every muscle was coiled, ready to strike any moment, and his intense gaze held an untamed hunger.

In that wild instant, surprised and taking on a defensive stance, he was both dangerous and alluring, a fierce and captivating force to be reckoned with.

His penetrating dark blue eyes locked onto mine, assessing me with an intensity that made me uneasy.

I noted the subtle flex of his strong jaw, a sign of restraint, as he sized me up in return.

‘We finally meet, bella.'

His voice was hoarse, resonant, so deep and rasped as if dragged over fine sandpaper. He spoke in an accented intonation that hinted at an international schooling.

His hands were over his fly, and I realised I'd caught him pulling it up.

My eyes fluttered over his waist, and I blushed.

‘Eyes up, cara,' Lorenzo rumbled, brow quirked, lips curled.

Gaze hot, so hot.

I obeyed, my gaze flying up to lock with his.

He stepped closer, his eye contact never leaving mine, a hint of a smirk playing on his sensual, full lips. ‘It's safer that way.'

I straightened my posture, trying to regain my composure despite the unexpected encounter.

‘I have to go,' I clipped, embarrassed and annoyed at the situation.

Lorenzo's eyes glinted as his focus dropped to my mouth for some reason, then back to my frustrated eyes.

‘Of course,' drawling, his delicious timbre sending a shiver through me. ‘I wouldn't dream of standing in your way, not at this delicate time.'

Just as I turned away from his handsome, downright annoying face, he jerked his chin at me. ‘Who are you? You seem to be taking a lot of initiative around here. Are you the hired help?'

I reared back in shock at his words. ‘The hired?- Fuck, you're a trip.'

He raised a brow, his mouth curving in amusement. ‘I've insulted you.'

I leaned in, not caring who he was or giving a shit about his infamous reputation. ‘Who I am doesn't matter because, according to you, I'm not family enough. Now get the hell out.'

His eyes narrowed as my words parsed over him. ‘No one in my world dares speak to me this way.'

I shot him a sweet smile. ‘Then you'll be glad I'm not in your world.'

A brow canted, and he smirked. ‘Not yet.'

I'd had enough. ‘Signore. Get the hell out, now.'

With an enigmatic twist of his lips, he stepped back, giving me space as he gestured towards the bathroom door. ‘All yours.'

Just then, the muscled bouncer from the corridor knocked and marched in.

‘Scusa, boss, she got past me.' Lorenzo's guardian turned to me. ‘Get the fuck out. You shouldn't be in here.'

I sucked my teeth and tossed my head. ‘Show me where it says that on the rules board?'

Lorenzo's eyes lit up with amusement, and then, turning to his man, they blazed with a warning that his bodyguard blanched at. ‘Mauri, let her be. There are no rules here,' he growled, gesturing to the lack of posted regulations. ‘Let's give the lady some peace,' he rumbled, cleansing his sinewed hands at the sink and drying them on the delicate towel I'd hung on the bar earlier that day.

He took his time, too, his mouth flexing with mirth when I narrowed my gaze in a warning glare.

I intensified it as Lorenzo strolled out with a chin lift, accompanied by a soft rasped ‘Ciao.'

Before he followed his sentry out of the door.

I locked it behind them and, unable to think of anything else, conducted my business.

Only when I was washing at the basin did I linger on my fleeting meeting with him.

He really had no clue who I was.

Which was fine with me for now.

I didn't need his brand of complexity in my life right now.

As I emerged from the study and descended the stairs, I spotted him with his brother by the fireplace.

Vitto was the more charismatic of the pair. He chatted with other guests, who appeared to hang on to his every word.

On the other hand, Lorenzo smouldered with closed-off menace and a fuck-off energy that walled him off.

He gazed at the scene with a calculating shrewdness that sent a chill down my spine.

Despite his icy frostiness, his menacing presence only drew people to him like moths to a flame, and I wondered the degree of leverage he held in the underworld.

Based on what Bianca had shared, I understood he was an enforcer, a hard man, a made man, a secretive fixer, and a player.

Still, he was infamous enough to cause a ripple among the guests.

An unseen air of danger hovered around him, so much so that he required a guard to accompany him to the gents.

For a second, I hoped none of his world would taint today. The wake was about celebrating the life of a fierce, ferocious and loving woman who didn't deserve anything less than a dignified farewell.

Sensing my gaze, he turned his head, locking eyes with mine again.

The flicker in his expression, masked by his inscrutable facade, went through me like lightning.

I dropped my eyes, averting my face, not wanting to interact with him further.

I made a mental note to keep my distance and tread with care around him. The last thing I needed was to tangle with someone like him, not now, not ever.

The day's events had taken a toll on me, dredging up memories and emotions I had long tried to suppress.

Needing fresh air and overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions, I slipped from the gathering, seeking peace in the gardens outside.

LORENZO

She was the most alluring creature I'd ever come close to in years.

From those freakish violet eyes to her thick auburn hair cascading in loose waves down her back in a vision.

Damn, her lips were so soft and pliant.

Her body was so lush that my fingers had tingled to fold her into my arms in the powder room.

I wanted to stroke that dewy skin, draw a thumb around that mouth, kiss her stunning eyelids, and rock away the vulnerability in her gaze that intrigued me.

She'd also made me smile and even laugh with her brazenness in the bathroom. I had never had anyone speak to me with such moxie in years; no one dared to.

It was fuckin' refreshing.

Sheer need, the freaking jackhammer desire to own and possess all of her, hit me like a freight train, unexpected and unstoppable.

I cursed under my breath, clenching my jaw to tamp down the intoxicating image of her standing in front of me in the bathroom.

Damn her seductive appeal. It had made me want to ravish her right there and then, to undress all of her siren beauty and obvious disdain for me that both unnerved and fascinated me.

Fuck.

She was not on the agenda. This wake, my work and my family were all I had the energy for.

I had no time for a woman who had the potential to unravel the high walls I had built around my dark soul.

Pushing aside her and my tumultuous thoughts, I turned to join the gathering once more, my mask of indifference in place.

I engaged in polite conversation with Vitto and some of the guests while casting a keen eye on the various movements and conversations in the room.

As the minutes wore on, however, my eyes strayed, searching for flashes of lilac flitting through the room, wanting, yearning for her.

I viewed her interactions with the other attendees, noting the way she navigated the social setting, always keeping a close eye on her surroundings as if she cared a damn lot for everyone in the room and especially for Bianca's farewell.

Now convinced she was more than just hired help, I was intrigued with the way she took such trusteeship of the proceedings, which told me she was more invested than most.

The issue was, what was her play?

Was she a close friend of my aunt's that I'd never met? Or a gold digger waiting for the spoils from Bianca's estate?

I needed to find out.

My gaze tagged her the second she slipped out of the house.

Eyeing at the doors she'd slid out of for a minute or two ago, I gravitated to them. Unable to resist the irresistible allure of the enigmatic woman who had caught my eye.

MIA

I stepped out onto the deck, the cool breeze brushing my skin, offering solace amidst the chaos of Bianca's funeral.

I rounded the terrace until I came to the small walled-off garden at the end of it.

Bianca and I had furnished, decorated and set it up for mimosas and sundowner drinks facing the valley.

Leaning against the railing, I gazed out at the expansive estate below and beyond, the beauty of the purple-tinged mountains. Taking a breath, I let the tranquillity of the surroundings soothe my frayed nerves.

The scent of lavender wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of roses, creating a waft of fragrance that brought memories of Bianca rushing to mind.

With the sun descending below the horizon, casting lengthy shadows across the garden, I lost myself in thought.

The mask I had worn for so long, the facade of control, was cracking and crumbling. For the first time in weeks, I let out a silent sob, unchecked and unbidden. Each movement wracked my body, releasing a lifetime of pent-up emotions.

In the solitude of the garden, my tears flowed, mixing with the fragrant scents of flowers and earth.

The weight of grief pressed down on me, threatening to engulf my being. I clutched the railing, the metal cold beneath my fingertips as I struggled to compose myself.

A slight rustling behind me startled me.

Wiping at my tear-streaked cheeks, I turned and jolted at the sight of Lorenzo, standing still, his intense eyes locked onto my face.

He didn't say a word. He just reached into his pocket, took out the stunning kerchief tucked in it, and offered it to me.

I glared at him at first, still smarting from his earlier insult.

He kept holding it out, and I accepted the luxe square with reluctance, attempting to quell the ache in my chest.

Our fingers brushed, and for a moment, I gasped at the tendril of heated energy it sent through me, unable to tell if it was an accident or not.

Not in the mood to entertain the thought further and bound by grief, I found an outdoor chair.

Perching on it, I buried my face in the silken, cotton-threaded cloth, trying to keep my cries silent.

An unexpected heat bloomed to my right, and I sensed Lorenzo's companionable silence, his presence a balm on my shattered nerves.

He hadn't moved; it was simply the temperature emanating from him that was warming me.

In time, the tight, wound-up angst that had built up within me began to ebb away in the tranquillity of the garden.

After a while, when my silent sobs had subsided, calmed by my in-depth breathing and his rock-solid essence, I found my voice. ‘Thank you.'

His rumbled timbre rolled over me, easing my moment of vulnerability in some strange way. ‘Can I get you anything?'

I turned my head, convinced that my red eyes were the last thing he wanted to witness, but I could not help myself.

Despite my reservations and his tsunami-like force of presence, his company was comforting yet disconcerting.

Our eyes locked, his holding a glint of concern, but something else was lurking beneath the surface, something that made me cautious.

I wiped away a stray tear and nodded, mustering a weak smile. ‘No, thank you. I'm OK.'

The words felt inadequate to describe the tumult of emotions churning inside me.

Stepping closer, his tall frame cast a shadow over me. ‘Funerals have a way of stirring up memories and sentiments we thought were long buried.'

His tone held a sandpaper raw edge as if he carried a weight of past sorrows.

Studying him for a beat, I noted how his slicked-back dark hair ruffled in the breeze and the faint scar on his jawline, suggesting a turbulent past.

‘I noticed you've helped out a lot today. Who was she to you?' he murmured.

I sighed. ‘My de facto aunt, a sponsor and mentor in other ways. My mother cleaned her house for her and then became her housekeeper. When my mother passed, Bianca took me under her wing. I've been taking care of her affairs since she left us.'

Lorenzo's head tilted. ‘M. Kassa, from the emails? That you?'

I nodded.

He whistled under his breath. ‘Fuck. I assumed -.'

‘You're an ass,' I stated with cold annoyance.

He reared back in surprise. I guessed no one had ever spoken to him like this.

His navy azure gaze locked on me, unsure how to react, until he huffed. ‘You're a spitfire, Miss -?' he trailed off, prompting me to fill in the blank.

‘Call me Mia,' I offered.

‘Mia,' he drawled, extending the vowels, savouring them.

That deep aqua regard stayed on me for another long moment before I saw his face soften. ‘I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for my careless assumptions. It seems you are family, after all.'

Our gazes clashed until I looked away.

‘My brothers and I owe you a debt of gratitude,' he rumbled on. ‘We had no way of accomplishing all you've done here without your help. We tried booking flights but didn't reach here in time, so your help has been priceless. Grazie.'

I conceded, swinging my eyes back to meet his. ‘I understand; you explained it all in our comms. It wasn't a hardship. I'd been looking after her for weeks prior. I liaised with the doctors, nurses, funeral home and the priest. Everyone loved her, which made it all so much easier.'

I tagged the shock in his face as he realised the massive job it'd been taking care of his aunt in her last days.

‘I don't know what to say, but grazie mille, thank you,' he uttered.

‘You don't have to thank me any more,' I breathed. ‘I did what needed to be done. She was family to me in every sense of the word.'

Lorenzo's eyes mellowed, a flicker of understanding passing between us.

His guarded demeanour faltered in that moment, revealing a vulnerability that mirrored my own. ‘Family isn't always blood,' he murmured, his voice just above a whisper.

Nodding, I swallowed the lump in my throat at the truth of his words. Bianca had been more than just a relative; she had been my anchor in a sea of anguish and torment.

Lorenzo's eyes glimmered with empathy. ‘She was married to my father's brother and visited my family in Italy often. She stayed with my brothers and me after our parents were -.'

He paused, clearing his voice. ‘She did not need to, but she took us under her wing and for that, we were forever grateful. After that, she travelled each year to Naples to visit us. I was unaware of her affiliations in Sydney, so it's excellent to learn she had a friend in your mother and someone who cared for her in you,' he rumbled.

A slight smile played on my lips. ‘She was one of a kind. I owe her everything.'

‘She was lucky to have you by her side in her final days. Please understand we, the Calibrese brothers, are grateful. We thank you for how much you've done, even without meeting us,' Lorenzo repeated once more, his voice carrying a sincerity that caught me off guard.

‘It was my pleasure.'

‘If there's anything we can do, anything at all, please let me know.'

Lorenzo's empathy added an unexpected twist to an already emotion-charged day.

‘How close were you with her?' I blurted out, surprising myself with my sudden curiosity.

His face flickering with melancholy, he hesitated for a breath before speaking, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

‘Bianca and I were tight, more so in my adulthood, when I was mature enough to appreciate her kindness and grace,' he grated, choosing his words with care.

The depth of meaning jarred me in his rumbled bass that implied layers of complexity and deep grief beneath the surface.

I furrowed my brow. ‘You seem familiar with loss,' I ventured with caution, unsure how he'd react to my statement.

Lorenzo's expression darkened for a second before smoothing into a mask of neutrality. ‘We all carry our burdens.'

The weight of loss fell once more, creating a complex tapestry of emotions in me that threatened to overwhelm me once more.

‘I'll miss her so much,' I whispered. ‘I don't know how I'll be able to look at life the same way without her.'

He gave me a long look, tagging the shimmer in my eyes. ‘Don't take life too seriously, bella. Nobody gets out alive anyway.'

I slow-blinked at him, then gasped as the meaning of his words hit home.

When his lips turned up, I jolted, a bubble of laughter rising in me.

‘We all have our problems, beautiful,' he drawled on. ‘The only people without any are those in cemeteries.'

I burst out in giggles, scrambling for his kerchief, which I clapped to my mouth to stop my chortle from reaching the house.

The dams broke then, and I laughed long and hard, shaking into my silk-lined palm until tears leaked.

I wiped them off, all the while glaring at him as his lips quirked at me.

‘You did that on purpose,' I finally breathed. ‘I can't stop laughing no matter how morbid it is.'

‘My work here is done.'

In that instant, we locked eyes. This uplifted moment in the midst of our shared loss created an unspoken bond between us, bridging the gap between strangers brought together by shared grief.

I was drawn to his ability to navigate the complexities of loss with quiet strength. He appeared to understand grief in a way that hinted at a hidden pain.

Despite his enigmatic facade and the secrets, a depth of character lay hidden beneath his steely exterior.

‘I appreciate you sitting with me and lifting my mood,' I murmured, unsure how else to express my gratitude for his unexpected humour.

Lorenzo inclined his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Our gazes clashed as I flushed, overwhelmed with emotion.

His was searching and seismic, and I was struck again by his commanding presence, underlying menace, strength, and self-possession.

At that moment, I wondered again what Bianca had meant when she asked me to take care of him in her letter.

Also, why did she leave me a tiny white gold and diamond amulet in the shape of a small hand closed, with the thumb between the index and middle finger?

Secrets, omens, potent pointers to a message from beyond the veil that I'd yet to discern.