6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Daniella

I said yes to seeing Lorenzo Duretti again.

I keep thinking about it and wondered what I was thinking. The man is the epitome of danger and the man who I know had something to do with Jeremy’s death. I had slept with him, done a whole lot more than sleep, actually and I had enjoyed every second of it.

Fuck my life.

The hours at work drag on, each minute feeling like an eternity. My mind is only half focused on the tasks at hand, the other half consumed by the events of last night.

I can still feel the weight of Lorenzo’s touch, hear the timbre of his voice and feel his huge cock stretching me, filling me and making me come. But the shock of who he is overshadows everything. I can’t believe I spent the night with the head of the Duretti family.

At least he doesn’t know anything about me. I didn’t even give him my name and he didn’t give me his. So, he doesn’t know who I am, and more importantly, he doesn’t know that I know who he is. Surprise and ignorance are elements I have at my disposal, and I plan to take full advantage of that.

As I sift through emails and answer calls, I keep replaying our conversations in my head. He might be a ruthless monster or mafia lord or whatever, but the guy knows how to hold a conversation.

Lorenzo knew something about Jeremy’s death. He had to. But getting close to him again, extracting information without arousing suspicion, would be a tightrope walk.

At lunch, I take my salad to a quiet corner of the office cafeteria. My appetite is non-existent, but I force myself to eat, knowing I need to keep my strength up.

I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts, just as Renee walks up to my table. I had just raised a fork full of salad to my mouth and she smiles down at me.

“Hey, Dani. How was your weekend?”

“Um…” I say around a mouthful of food, but I raise my hand and finish chewing before I speak again. “It was okay.” It’s a massive understatement, but it’s not like I’m going to tell her about having sex with a mafia don.

“Can I join you?” she asks nodding at the empty seat in front of me.

“Yes, of course.”

She smiles and easily slides into the seat.

“So, how are you holding up?”

“I’ve had better days,” I admit, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m sorry I never called back.” The last time she had called, I had just been leaving Lorenzo’s house, and I couldn’t chat with her. I felt really bad about it, but then I never remembered to call her back.

She waves off my apology.

“It’s okay. I'm sure you’ve been busy. Can we talk? Maybe grab dinner after work?”

“Um…” it’s on the tip of my tongue to make up an excuse to back out, but she’s giving me a knowing smile like she knows that’s exactly what I’m about to do. And I did promise to say yes the next time she asked me out.

“Of course. I know a great place. How about seven p.m.?”

“Sounds perfect. Your salad looks delicious.” It’s my turn to smile.

“No, it doesn’t.”

She laughs a little and shrugs. “It doesn’t look that bad. It was a lot worse last week.”

The food in our cafeteria isn’t the best and there have been reports of food poisoning.

“Your food on the other hand…” I nod toward her side of the table. On her plate is a turkey wrap that looks and smells to die for.

“Thank you. I got it on the way to work. Here, you can have half.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to finish it anyway.”

She lifts it off her plate and sets it on mine and I smile in gratitude.

I push my salad away and bite into the wrap, instantly feeling better when I taste the fresh ingredients. I admit to myself that having a friend to talk to might help me process everything that’s happened. I just can’t tell her about Lorenzo, however. It would put her in danger.

I listen as she talks about her work and her frustrations. I had completely forgotten how nice human interactions could be when they didn’t involve the words, “I’m so sorry for your loss”.

For the rest of the afternoon, I throw myself into work, trying to drown out the noise in my head.

When seven rolls around, I meet Renee at a cozy Italian restaurant not far from our office. The warm lighting and the rich aroma of garlic and herbs are comforting.

We order our meals and once the waiter leaves, Renee leans in.

“Did you pick this place because I’m Italian?” she asks, and I shake my head.

“Oh God no, I’m Italian too, you know. I come here when I’m missing my mom’s food.”

“It’s all right, I was kidding.”

She laughs and I relax.

“Isn’t Renee a French name?”

“It is. My mom was French, and my dad was Italian.”

I nod. “No wonder you have such good genes.” My phone pings beside me and it’s a text from an unknown number.

I want to see you tonight.

Even though it’s just words on the screen, I can hear his voice so clearly. He makes commands sound so good.

“What’s going on, Dani? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I take a deep breath and shake my head. If only she knew how accurate her statement was.

“It’s nothing. I just have to respond to this text.” I pick up the phone and my fingers hover over the keyboard. What should I say? How did you get my number? Who’s this? Sorry, I can’t because I’m terrified of what you’ll do to me when you find out who I am?

Why the hell did I actually believe that I could have any sort of edge over Lorenzo Duretti? This is the man who is rumored to eat children for dinner. Whatever I say, it has to sound confident. I can’t look weak in front of him. People like him thrive on weakness; they feed off it.

Tomorrow at the club? I text back and drop the phone back on the table.

“Boy problems?” Renee asks and I immediately grimace. “Shit, I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. And you’re right. It is a boy problem.”

She smiles at me softly, and I sigh. I don’t know why I feel like I can trust her, like she won’t judge me or think I’m trashy for sleeping with someone else a month after my fiancé died.

“I met him at The Garden of Eden,” I say, and her eyes fly up to meet mine.

“You went to The Garden of Eden?”

“Yeah, that’s actually why I couldn’t talk the night you called. I was with him.”

“And? Girl, you can’t tell me that and nothing else. Full details please.”

“I don’t know Renee. It’s not a roses and sunshine story and I don’t want you getting involved in stuff that I know is dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Her eyes widen. “I thought you were going to tell me about a one-night stand.”

“It was a one-night stand, but it was with someone I shouldn’t have slept with. Are you sure you want to know?”

“Hit me. Whatever it is. I meant it when I said I want to be your friend.”

I bite my lip. I shouldn’t tell her. I should keep all of this to myself. I might be putting her in danger. But the secret feels like acid burning inside of me.

I exhale and start from the beginning, telling her about Massimo, the cut brake lines, and my encounter with Lorenzo. I leave out the intimate details, but I can see Renee’s eyes widen with each revelation.

“Wow. Shit. Wow.”

“I know.” My voice is soft, and I’m thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have told her.

“And you slept with him?”

I nod.

“Yes. I was happy that he didn’t know my name or anything else about me but…he just texted me, asking me out again.”

Her eyes widen.

“Really? And what did you say?”

“I told him I’d meet him at the club tomorrow.”

“You’re serious about this aren’t you?”

“Yes. Jeremy died and I can’t stand that whoever did it might get away with it. I don’t care how dangerous it is. I’m going to get close to Lorenzo and get as much information as I can. I just want to know if he played any role in Jeremy’s death and if he did, what it was.”

“And if you find out that Lorenzo was somehow involved? What then?”

“I don’t know yet. This is really an as-I-go-along kind of plan. But I know that I’m going to make the person responsible pay, one way or the other. I’m already working with some detectives who I gave the evidence to.”

“This is serious. I want to tell you that you’re playing with fire, but I’m guessing you already know that,” she says, her voice a mix of worry and disbelief.

“I know, but I need to find out the truth. I can’t just let Jeremy’s death go unanswered.”

“But Lorenzo Duretti? I’ve heard some nasty things about him. There’s this one rumor that when he finds a traitor, he cuts out their tongue and sews it to their forehead. Then he lets the tongue rot there and the infection slowly spreads through until the man dies.”

I grimace and my appetite runs away.

“I also heard that one time, he tied a jar full of rats to his enemy’s face, and the rats ate him.”

“Okay, if you’re trying to scare me…it’s working.”

She doesn’t quite smile, but it is something close.

“All I’m saying is that he’s dangerous. You need to be careful.”

“I will be,” I assure her, though I’m not entirely convinced that I can be after hearing what she had to say. “I just…I need to know who killed Jeremy and why.”

“Would Jeremy want you to do this?” The question startles me.

“I don’t know. Probably not. But I know that if the situation were reversed and I’d been the one who died, he would’ve moved heaven and earth to find the truth and get justice for me.”

Renee nods, her expression softening. “I understand. Just promise me you won’t do anything reckless. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Renee.”

We spend the rest of the evening talking about lighter topics, trying to reclaim a semblance of normalcy. But as I head home, my thoughts are already turning back to Lorenzo and the dangerous path I’m on.

If I’m being honest with myself, this is about more than satisfying my urge for justice.

I have never in all my life experienced pleasure like Lorenzo gave me. The longer I’m away from him, the more I want him. Just talking about him makes my core ache with need.

It’s dangerous and it’s probably wrong to be so obsessed with the man who might have killed Jeremy, but God help me, I can’t force myself to stop now.