Chapter 3 - The True Price of Tyler
The air felt thin, suffocating, as though all the warmth had been vacuumed out of the opulent dining room. Lily stared down at the photographs, her fingertips grazing the glossy paper. There was Tyler—the man who had complimented her laugh, who had sent her flowers two days ago, who had smiled with easy charm across a crowded cocktail lounge. In the picture, his smile was gone, replaced by a greedy, furtive sneer as he accepted a thick envelope of cash.
""He... he was asking about my work,"" she murmured, the realization washing over her like a bucket of freezing water. ""He asked about the security protocols at the Fifth Avenue tower. He said he found my job fascinating.""
""He found the five-million-dollar bounty on our supply chain fascinating,"" Lorenzo said coldly.
The server returned, silently placing two crystal glasses and the vintage wine on the table before scurrying away. Lorenzo poured two fingers of the deep burgundy liquid into each glass, pushing one toward Lily.
""Drink,"" he instructed, his tone dropping from harsh to almost protective. ""You look pale.""
Lily took the glass with trembling hands, downing a hearty swallow. The rich, earthy taste burned on the way down, but it anchored her. She had prided herself on being sharp, unshakeable, immune to the deceptions of Lorenzo’s dark world. Yet she had been played by an amateur with good hair and a tailored blazer.
""Where is he now?"" Lily asked, looking up through her lashes. ""Did your men... did you kill him?""
Lorenzo leaned forward, swirling the wine in his glass. The candlelight caught the sharp planes of his cheekbones, casting his eyes in pitch shadow. ""He is currently sitting in a basement in Queens, explaining the finer points of his betrayal to Marco. But don't worry, Little Morgan. He's breathing. I wanted you to see the paperwork first. I wanted you to understand what kind of wolves surround you the moment you leave my side.""
""I am not your property, Lorenzo,"" she whispered, anger flaring up to mask the raw humiliation burning in her cheeks. ""You don't get to keep me locked in a tower just because the world is dangerous. I wanted one normal evening. One dinner where I wasn't wondering if the man across from me had a hit list in his briefcase!""
""There is nothing normal about you, Lily,"" Lorenzo growled, his voice dropping into that dark, possessive register that made her insides twist into knots. ""You run a multi-billion-dollar syndicate's paperwork with ice in your veins. You corrected my shipping manifests when three capos were too terrified to speak. Do you honestly think a coward like Tyler could ever satisfy you?""
He reached across the table again, but this time, he didn't grab her wrist. His fingers grazed the bare skin of her shoulder, skimming slowly down the sleeve of her red dress, his knuckles warm against her trembling skin.
""When you walked out of my office today,"" Lorenzo whispered, his gaze burning into hers, ""I wanted to burn this city to the ground. You wore this dress for a rat.""
""I wore it for myself,"" she choked out, her breath catching as his fingers brushed the hollow of her collarbone.
""Lie,"" Lorenzo murmured, his thumb brushing against the base of her throat, right where her pulse galloped out of control. ""You wore it because you wanted to prove you could feel something. But you're looking at the wrong man, Lily. You've always been looking at the wrong man.""
Before she could form a reply, the heavy chandelier above their heads flickered.
Once. Twice.
May you like
Then, every light in the dining room abruptly snapped off, plunging the space into thick, suffocating darkness. The jazz quartet stopped abruptly. A woman screamed near the bar.
In a split second, Lorenzo’s hand wasn't caressing her shoulder anymore—it was gripping the nape of her neck with unyielding strength, pulling her out of the banquette and down toward the floor just as the front windows shattered inward in a shower of deadly glass.
