Reckless Games (Reckless Mafia #1)

Chapter 4

Angela

The warm cascade of water enveloped me as I stood beneath the soothing spray of the shower, digesting the devastating news Lorenzo had delivered. It was almost unfathomable to comprehend that the place I had once called home now lay in ruin. Every cherished memory, every trace of my parents, reduced to nothing but ashes.

‘Your house caught on fire. It's completely destroyed and currently off-limits, undergoing inspection. I had Giovanni retrieve whatever belongings were left,’ Lorenzo's words echoed in my mind. The weight of the news hit me like a tidal wave, and I felt the dam of emotions within me begin to crack, unleashing a stream of tears that mingled with the water cascading down my face.

Lorenzo suggested—more like directed—that I stay at his mansion until we could find a solution. Which was why, I was in the confines of the guest bathroom, my eyes closed, willing myself to forget the tragedy that had befallen me. Even the rhythmic patter of the water against the tiles couldn't provide me with the distraction I needed.

With a weary sigh, I turned off the shower, feeling the warmth gradually dissipate as I stepped out onto the tiled floor. Wrapping myself in a towel, I came out to the bedroom, where a pair of oversized sweats lay waiting on the bed. They were a stark contrast to my petite frame. But something was better than nothing. I mean, I was practically homeless, which also made me clothes-less. Beggars can't be choosers, they say.

As I approached the bed, I couldn't help but feel out of place. What was I doing here in the first place? I was supposed to be lying in my bed, at my home, sleeping soundly until the morning.

Home.

Shaking my head to dispel the disorientation, I began to dress myself in the oversized garments. The sweatshirt hung loosely from my shoulders, its sleeves extending far beyond my fingertips. I folded the hem of the trousers to prevent them from dragging on the floor, ensuring I wouldn't trip over the excess fabric. Despite the ill-fitting attire, there was a comforting familiarity in the coziness of the fabric against my skin.

Uncertainty knocked at me as I stood in the bedroom, torn between waiting for someone to fetch me or going down myself. Lorenzo had mentioned continuing our conversation after I had freshened up. Before I could make up my mind, a sharp knock at the door shattered my indecision. Expecting Giovanni, I moved to open the door. However, the sight that greeted me left me speechless.

Standing before me, freshly showered, was Lorenzo himself. His hair was tousled, his striking jawline cutting a sharp contrast against his chiseled features. My breath caught in my throat as I struggled to compose myself. Sometimes I wondered, just how much time did God put into crafting this man? It should be illegal to look this handsome. How was I supposed to focus on anything else when he stood before me like a vision of masculine perfection?

With a dry mouth and a racing heart, I realized the challenge that lay ahead—to maintain my composure in the presence of this captivating man.

"I thought you'd be done by now." Lorenzo's velvety voice sent a thrill through me, my heart somersaulting at the sound. His silver eyes looked mischievous, and his damp, dark hair was evidence that he too had been in the shower moments ago. I nodded in response, suddenly finding it difficult to form coherent words.

"May I?" he gestured, indicating if I would allow him entry into the room. I inwardly slapped my forehead for hesitating—after all, it was his house, and he certainly didn't need my permission. What a gentleman!

I stepped aside, granting him access, and watched as he entered the room, clad in his own sweatshirt and trousers, resembling Adonis himself. And I couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves at his proximity. This was the first time I was witnessing him in anything other than formals, and he was pulling it off without any effort. Was there anything he couldn't pull off?

As he turned to face me, I closed the door behind me and approached him, my heart pounding in my chest. His gaze trailed over me heatedly, starting from my head and descending slowly until it settled on my chest for a fleeting moment, or so I thought. His eyes then continued their journey until they finally rested on my hands, narrowing slightly as if in contemplation, before a faint smile graced his lips.

He took deliberate steps toward me, and I found myself acutely aware of the tension between us, unsure of what his intentions were.

"Umm..." I trailed off awkwardly, uncertain of how to respond, and instinctively backed up until I felt the door press against my back. Oops.

He halted just inches away from me, his gaze unwavering as his hands found their way to my wrists, gently lifting them. I swallowed nervously as he maintained eye contact, his fingers deftly folding the sleeves of my sweatshirt until my hands were exposed. He repeated the action with the other sleeve.

Oh.

Did it just get hot in here?

"What's going on in that pretty little head?" Lorenzo mused, his lips still curving into a slight smile that hinted at a deeper understanding, leaving me with the unsettling feeling that he could see right through me. This man!

"I... uh... nothing. Absolutely nothing," I attempted to deflect his probing inquiry. "I was just wondering if it got hot in here," I hastily added, hoping to change the subject and mask my embarrassment.

As soon as the words left my mouth, it dawned on me. My head snapped to his, and my eyes widened in horror. Oh, my god! Did I really just say that?

Lorenzo's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his smirk widening playfully, silently acknowledging my slip-up. "Is it now?" he inquired, his tone laced with amusement as I swallowed nervously, nodding in a barely audible whisper.

"Yeah," I managed to squeak out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

Without missing a beat, Lorenzo stepped back to search for the air conditioning remote. As he turned it on, a rush of cool air filled the room. "Sit with me," he motioned, settling onto the vacant couch in the room, leaving just enough space for the two of us. I hesitated for a moment before joining him. It wasn’t a big problem to be so close to him, that too alone in a room. All I had to remember to do was breathe. Piece of cake.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle and concerned. It was then that the weight of the situation crashed down upon me once again.

"I... I don't know," I struggled to contain the turmoil raging within me.

"It's going to be alright. I swear, I will find out who did this. And once I get my hands on them, they won't live to witness the next morning," he growled, his voice dripping with venom as anger seethed through every word. His eyes blazed with an intensity that made me wonder why the news of my burned house had ignited such a fierce fire within him.

His eyes flickered towards me. "Penny for your thoughts?" A silent question hung in the air. His tone was softer now, nothing compared to the ferocity it contained moments ago. I hesitated, unsure of how he would react to my inner turmoil. "I won't bite if that helps to put you at ease," he added, a wry hint of humor lacing his words. I want you to bite.

Summoning my courage, I posed the question that had been lingering on the edge of my mind. "Would you answer this time if I asked you who you really are?" I held my breath, watching as his expression shifted, a knowing glint sparking in his eyes before a subtle tension gripped his frame. “I mean, I hardly know anything about you.” I tried to change the direction of my conversation, not knowing if he would actually tell me what I wanted to know. And who knew, my carelessness could come to choke me someday? No matter how heartbreakingly handsome he was, he was still dangerous. So I had to be careful. “What do you like to do? As a hobby?”

For a moment, silence hung between us. His gaze bore into mine, as if trying to unravel the mysteries concealed within the words I spoke. His tongue delicately traced the curve of his lips, a subtle gesture that would have gone unnoticed had I not been watching every movement he made like a hawk.

"Black really suits you," he finally replied, his voice low and husky. And though I knew I must look like a disheveled mess—probably resembling a panda in this state—his words still managed to stir something deep within me, causing my heart to flutter erratically in my chest.

"That wasn't the question," I reminded him, refusing to let him skirt around the conversation.

"Would you run away and pretend you never knew me if I told you who I really am?" Silence enveloped us for a moment. Did I ever entertain the thought of fleeing from him? Would I do it if given the chance?

"You're just dodging it again." I sighed, frustration seeping into my voice. There was no point in dancing around the topic.

"Who do you think I am?" Lorenzo's curiosity piqued as he leaned back onto the couch, making himself more comfortable. His arms crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed yet expectant.

"Well, for starters, you're Lorenzo," I began, stating the obvious. "And you carry guns," I added with a hint of sarcasm, receiving a wry nod of acknowledgment from him. "A person who owns a property like this and a car like the one we rode in has to be loaded,” I continued.

"Oh, I am definitely loaded in more ways than you can imagine," he murmured huskily, leaning in. He rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, his intense gaze fixed on me. The sudden proximity caused my cheeks to flush with heat.

This man had a way of rendering me speechless, like it was a walk in the park for him. And he didn't even have to... well, let's not go there.

I remained silent when he withdrew slightly, stretching his arm to rest on the head of the couch. It grazed the back of my neck lightly in the process, making me shiver. Was that intentional?

Since he seemed intent on changing the subject, I decided to grab the opportunity to address the question that had been lingering in my mind for some time now. It was worth a shot. "You're still here and it's late. Wouldn’t your wife be waiting for you?" Fuck! I did it. There was no going back from this. I held my breath, trying to appear casual despite the knot of nerves tightening in my stomach. How else was I supposed to broach the topic without making it too obvious? Gosh, I sucked at being subtle about things. I really need to work on a few skills.

His reaction was immediate and unmistakable. His expression darkened as he frowned at my question. But before I could backtrack or apologize, he unexpectedly scooted closer, leaning in until his face was mere centimeters from mine. I gasped in surprise, my heart pounding erratically as his intense gaze locked with mine in a silent standoff. What was he trying to achieve with this?

"Tell me, Angel," he murmured, his voice low and dangerously seductive. "What made you think I have a wife ?" His words were laden with a potent mixture of intrigue and challenge, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, momentarily captivated by the silver orbs.

"Girlfriend, then?" I gulped, looking anywhere but him, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. It was a freaking struggle to maintain composure under his penetrating stare.

He tilted his head, a subtle challenge glinting in his eyes as his hand entered my field of vision. With care, he twirled a loose strand of my hair before tucking it behind my ear, his thumb tracing a tantalizing path along my skin. My breath caught in my throat as his touch sent a rush of heat coursing through my core. Fuck me!

“I just... um... I thought that a man like you would obviously have someone, you know…” I stumbled over my words, my cheeks flushing again.

“A man like me?” he arched an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or—”

“Definitely a compliment,” I interjected hastily.

“Tell me then, Angel,” he continued, maintaining the small distance between us as he held my gaze. “Do you have a boyfriend who might be waiting for you? A husband perhaps?”

“No,” I replied softly, resisting the urge to nod, knowing that the slightest movement would bring our lips dangerously close.

“No husband? Or no boyfriend?”

“Neither,” my pulse quickening as I awaited his response.

“Of course you don't,” he remarked, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone, as if he had already anticipated my answer. “What about a secret one-sided love? Someone who lives in your heart?” He rasped.

“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of my racing heartbeat.

“Good,” he murmured, his gaze darkening with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Good? What did he mean by that? “I like to learn, by the way.” My eyes knitted at his response. “My hobby—I like to learn things.”

“Learn? Like what?” I asked.

“About you,” he replied, suddenly catching me off guard.

“Me?”

“Yeah. You. I like watching when you look so damn gorgeous; it takes my breath away. I love staring at you until I feel you are etched into every corner of my soul. I like to think about you until I feel like my soul has finally found heaven in the hell of a world. Knowing everything about you, just seeing you exist—that’s my hobby.”

Before I could voice my thoughts, a knock interrupted us. I watched as he closed his eyes momentarily, his jaw tensing with annoyance. With a resigned sigh, he moved back, creating a distance between us, and called out for the person to come in.

Giovanni entered the room, his presence radiating unease as he carefully wheeled in a small suitcase. His posture was stiff, as if he expected Lorenzo to unleash his wrath at any moment with the pissed look he had on his face.

“I was able to find a few photo frames and... well, a couple of stuffed toys and shoes that escaped the fire.” Giovanni’s words tumbled out in one breath. “Everything else turned to ashes. I didn't think it was right to leave these items in the hallway, so I brought them up. I didn't realize you would be here, Capo. I'm sorry if I interrupted anything.” Giovanni's anxiety was visible as he spoke, his eyes darting nervously between Lorenzo and me. If not for the dangerous look on Lorenzo’s face, I would have laughed in this situation.

Lorenzo's expression darkened at the mention of the fire, though he seemed to rein in his temper with a visible effort. With a single curt nod, he dismissed Giovanni, who lingered awkwardly in the room, seemingly oblivious to the unspoken cue to leave.

“Will you kindly leave now?” Lorenzo's tone was clipped, a hint of annoyance lacing his words, though it was tempered with a measure of restraint. Despite his irritation, it was evident that Giovanni held a significant place in Lorenzo’s life. And Lorenzo really cared for him.

With a murmured apology, Giovanni finally took the hint and exited the room, leaving Lorenzo and me in tense silence.

Lorenzo rose from the couch, his hands slipping back into the pockets of his sweatpants. "You look tired. Take some rest. I'll see you tomorrow," he stated. I offered a weary nod in response as he turned to leave, but a sudden impulse made me call out to him before he could depart.

“Lorenzo?” My voice was soft, almost hesitant, and he immediately pivoted to face me, his attention fully captured.

“Could you... take me to my place tomorrow?” My tone was tinged with a hint of sadness. “I just... want to see it myself.”

“You don't have to,” he replied, knowing the emotional weight the visit would carry for me.

“I want to.”

"Alright." Lorenzo relented, his expression softening as he agreed to my request. “Now sleep.”

***