Love's Cruel Contract, His Endless Regret

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Lorenzo was in the kitchen, a frilly apron of mine tied over his expensive suit

ring a glass of my favorite red and guiding me to a chair before setting

h liquid tasted like ash in my mo

rt before following, my soft-soled shoes making no sound on the marble staircase. I stopped just

o's voice was casual, effortless. He me

sked. The sneer in the bo

that made my stomach clench. "Your mother had

, the question little more

e dismissive. "Just needs a bit of

better than that old-fashioned Mr

g pride in Lorenzo's voice. "She

tone shifting. "She was asking me weird questions about g

ou. A woman like your mother"-his voice dripped with condescension-"would rathe

e words struck me like a physical blow. "Y

d woman. A good mother. She keeps the house running." There w

would be a way cooler

to my mouth to stifle a gasp. I made it to the master bathroom just in time, the w

the cold floor. He was at my side in an instant,

ching away from his tou

ing in the air. "Alessa?

ne," I said, my v

er, he looked genuinely afraid. C

"Don't forget the Developer's Guild Gala is next Friday. It's the most important night of my career. They're

heek. I looked up at him, my eyes wide with carefully

lief washed over his f

supposed reconciliation. I hel

ive me a f

"fragile" state. He backed away slowl

woman in the reflection was gone. In her place was someon

age wa