THE MAFIA'S VENGEANCE

Chapter 5

For a moment, Lorenzo doesn’t react at all, as if my words fail to register. His gaze remains fixed on me, his expression unreadable, but something in his eyes shifts.

“What?” he asks quietly, his brows furrowing. “Don’t play with me.”

I swallow hard, unable to bring myself to repeat it.

“Answer me!”

“He’s my son!” I shout back instinctively. I stare at him as tears stream down my face.

His expression is still one of disbelief, as if he can’t believe what he’s just heard. I can see how much the revelation hurts him.

“Are you married?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head slowly. I know he must be shocked, trying to piece together the timeline. And it hurts to see the man I love looking so wounded.

“Then where did this child come from? How old is he?”

I can only cry. How am I supposed to explain this to him? I can’t just tell him everything. It’s all too complicated.

“He’s... three ye—”

That’s when the disbelief in his eyes vanishes, replaced by a cold stare. Before I can explain, he moves with such sudden force that I flinch, instinctively recoiling as he steps toward me. For one terrifying second, I think he’s going to hit me.

Instead, he hurls my phone to the floor. It shatters into pieces, the sound so loud it could probably be heard outside.

“Three years,” he mutters, nodding slowly as though he’s figured something out. “Three f*****g years!” he shouts.

I tremble, watching him crush the shattered remains of my phone beneath his feet. Tears stream down my face as I realize that he wants to unleash all that violence on me.

Once the phone is completely shattered, he stands there, his chest rising and falling with each controlled breath. His fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. For a moment, he doesn’t react at all, and the silence leaves me terrified of what he might do next.

He turns to face me. Then, a short, bitter laugh escapes him, sending a chill down my spine. “It all makes sense now. That’s why everything was planned so suddenly.”

I shake my head, knowing that whatever he’s convinced himself of is far from the truth.

“Lorenzo—”

As if he has no intention of listening to another word, he suddenly strides toward me and grabs me by the neck, making me gasp.

“You’ve been playing me all along! I should’ve killed you both!” he snarls, his entire body trembling with rage.

I try to pry his hand away as he shoves me backward, sending me tumbling onto the bed. It’s as though something has suddenly possessed him, leaving me utterly terrified. His eyes are filled with a fury I’ve never seen before.

“I’ll kill you now!”

His grip tightens around my neck, leaving me struggling to breathe. I try to strike his hand and push him away, but I’m no match for his strength.

“You should never have been allowed to live! You should’ve died back then!”

I keep struggling against him, desperately trying to free myself. But as my strength begins to fail, I stop fighting back, my hands weakly reaching toward his face. I think I’m going to die.

“E-En...zo,” I choke out, tears streaming down my face.

That’s when he suddenly releases me. I immediately curl onto my side, coughing as I struggle to catch my breath.

I stare at him as he stands beside the bed, his back turned to me. My heart feels as though it’s being torn apart, knowing that the man I love has come to despise me so deeply. There’s no mercy left in him, not even a trace of the man I once knew. All he seems to want is my death.

“How could I have fallen in love with a woman like you? I was such a fool. So naive. I gave you my everything, and...” A bitter laugh escapes him. He shakes his head. “Just... wow.”

“Listen to me,” I say, pushing myself up from the bed and trying to approach him. “Enzo,” I call softly, reaching for his hand.

“Don’t call me that ever again, you f*****g w***e!” he shouts, pulling away from me roughly.

I flinch and take a step backward. He stares at me with an expression of utter anger and disgust.

“Don’t touch me with your filthy body. The thought of you touching me just now makes me sick.”

Tears stream down my face, impossible to stop. I’ve spent so much time rehearsing how I would explain everything to him, imagining that someday I might finally tell him the truth.

But now that the moment is here, I don’t know where to begin. There’s so much I can’t tell him, so much I have to keep hidden, and I have no idea how to explain any of it without revealing more than I should.

“Can you please just hear me out?” I plead, my voice desperate.

“What is there left to explain? What kind of story are you going to make up now?”

He takes a slow step toward me, his gaze hardening.

“You’re going to tell me he’s mine?”