Chapter 102: The Man Behind the Monster

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He smiled. "Consider it done."

Breakfast arrived soon after, although sitting up was an endeavor I wouldn’t recommend. Lorenzo helped me prop up the pillows and set the tray across my lap while I tried to ignore how clumsily I was moving.

The food was simple, warm, and surprisingly tasty, which was a good thing since I’d developed an appetite big enough to embarrass a pack of wolves.

Lorenzo sat beside me, watching intently as I picked up a piece of toast.

"Stop staring." I snapped, still very annoyed.

He shook his head, still smiling, and let me finish my breakfast without further interruptions, though I caught him stealing glances at me several times.

After I was done, I was determined to get out of bed.

Lorenzo, however, had other plans. "Where do you think you’re going?"

"To the bathroom."

"I’ll help you."

I stared at him. "I’m perfectly capable of walking to the bathroom."

"You could barely sit up a few minutes ago."

"That was just a temporary setback."

"Alex."

"Dracula."

We held a silent standoff for several seconds before I finally sighed. "Fine. But if you start carrying me around like some kind of injured princess, I will never forgive you."

"Noted."

He helped me stand, keeping one arm around my waist while I cautiously tested my balance. I was sore...my ass was throbbing, but I could manage a few steps, and I was determined to prove it.

The bathroom was bright, the morning light streaming through the frosted windows, and the large mirror above the sink gave me a clear view of my reflection.

I halted in front of it. "Oh...oh shit."

The temporary bite looked far worse than I had expected.

Leaning in closer, I examined the tender mark on my neck, and my expression soured. "That’ll be tricky to hide."

Lorenzo appeared behind me in the mirror. "You don’t have to hide it."

I shot him a look. "Easy for you to say. No one’s going to gawk at you and start making assumptions about your sex life, pervert."

His gaze settled on my reflection as he brushed his fingers softly across my shoulder. "Does it hurt too?"

"A little."

His expression shifted and It was subtle, but I noticed. The slight tightening around his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on the mark, and the brief pause before he looked away.

For a moment, he seemed almost uneasy.

It was such an unusual look for him that I found myself studying him more closely.

"I’m...very sorry, my love." He whispered looking down at his feet as if he couldn’t handle staring straight at me. "For being so rough with you...I lost control again. It’s difficult, having these new feelings and emotions towards someone, I’m not quite sure how to handle or control them."

Huh, I tilted my head, watching him very closely...

How strange.

Lorenzo Castelli was a man who could sit through a room full of threats without batting an eye. He could order someone killed and return to his dinner like he’d just asked for another glass of water.

He was always so controlled that I sometimes wondered if he’d ever been allowed to be anything else.

But now, standing next to me in the bathroom, he looked like a man who regretted having caused someone pain.

And that realization made my chest ache.

I also noticed the old scars on Lorenzo’s chest while he washed me down with soap.

I had seen them before, especially when we were at the pool and several other times where he undressed in front of me...but I had never really examined them closely.

There were several pale marks across his chest, some thin and almost delicate, others wider and uneven, as if left by something much less forgiving than a simple accident.

I couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten them.

I wondered who had inflicted them.

And, more importantly, I wondered if anyone had ever stood in front of him and cared about whether those scars still hurt...

If he was just like me... if he was abused as well with no one giving two shits about our cuts, bruises and wounds.

Before I could overthink it, I turned and wrapped my arms around him.

Lorenzo went completely still.

His hands lingered at his sides for a moment, and I felt his surprise in the sudden tension in his body.

I almost pulled away, embarrassed by my own impulse, but then his arms encircled me, one carefully resting on my back while the other held my waist.

He lowered his head. "Alex?"

"Don’t make a fuss about it."

"I wasn’t going to."

"Good."

I pressed my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"It’s okay," I murmured.

He didn’t respond right away.

"It still aches a bit," I went on, "but maybe that’s because it was my first time. I’m sure next time will be easier."

There was a pause.

Then Lorenzo’s chest shook with a quiet laugh.

"Next time?" Lorenzo’s hands settled on my back...just on top of my ass, careful and warm. When he spoke, I could hear the smirk in his voice. "You want there to be a next time, already?"

I immediately froze.

‎I rolled my eyes, trying to backtrack as my face heated up again. "That’s not what I—! I was just saying... you know what, never mind. Fucking perv..."

‎

‎He smiled, continuing to wash me with that same steady patience, promising to be gentler next time if I promised to behave.

The moment those words left his mouth, I turned bratty again, mumbling under my breath about stupid contracts that basically sold your damned soul to the devil, unreasonable alphas, and the unfairness of it all, while he watched me with a quiet fondness, his green eyes soft in a way that made my stomach flip for different reasons than the night before.

[Lorenzo Castelli]

‎

‎Later that evening, after Alex had finally settled into an uneasy sleep, Lorenzo sat alone in his study, the low light from a single desk lamp casting long shadows across scattered files.

The soft intimacy of the morning felt distant, replaced by the cold, sharp focus that had kept him alive for years.

A new message had come in...short, carefully phrased, and wrong in a way only someone with a lifetime of reading between the lines would notice.

A servant’s report from the east wing held a small inconsistency that shouldn’t have been there that could have easily been overlooked if not for Lorenzo’s sharp mind that paid attention to every small detail.

Another close call with one of his outer patrols had been brushed aside as a coincidence, but Lorenzo no longer believed in coincidence.

‎

‎He opened a fresh file and began quietly tracking Dante’s recent movements throughout Italy, cross-referencing dates and names without ever writing Alex’s name beside them.

The larger picture was still hazy, but the pattern was becoming clearer. There were spies within the Castelli estate.

The name Volpe loomed large, unresolved at the center of this web, and each new scrap of information deepened his certainty that the threat was closer than anyone realized.

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, his green eyes fixed on the screen, and the quiet click of the lock turning in the distance felt less like security and more like a reminder that the personal interlude was over.

The larger game was starting to move again and he feared that the enemy was closer than he thought.