Four
1086 Words
Don Lorenzo Valenti stood by the wide glass window of his study, the city stretching endlessly before him. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, but it did nothing to soften the cold, commanding aura that surrounded him.
In his hand was a glass of whiskey.
While most men reached for coffee to start their day, Lorenzo preferred something stronger. Something that matched the fire burning within him.
He took a slow sip, his sharp eyes distant, his thoughts elsewhere.
On her.
The girl.
The mysterious young woman from the night before.
His jaw tightened slightly as her image replayed in his mind, the way she had looked, the way she had responded to him… the way she had surrendered without hesitation.
It had been unexpected.
Unplanned.
Yet… unforgettable.
Lorenzo wasn’t a man who dwelled on women. He had no reason to. Women came and went in his world, offering fleeting pleasure and nothing more.
But this one…
This one was different.
He didn’t know her name.
He didn’t know where she came from.
But he knew one thing, he wanted to see her again.
And Lorenzo Valenti always got what he wanted.
He set his glass down and pressed the buzzer on his desk.
Within seconds, the door opened.
Luca stepped in, as composed and loyal as ever.
“Boss. Good morning.”
Lorenzo didn’t respond to the greeting. His focus remained sharp.
“I have an assignment for you.”
Luca straightened slightly, his full attention locked on his boss. “I’m listening.”
Lorenzo turned, his gaze hard.
“The young lady who left this house this morning,” he said slowly, “I want everything on her.”
Luca didn’t ask questions.
He never did.
“Yes, boss.”
Just as he turned to leave, the door creaked open again.
Alessandro stepped in.
“Father… good morning.”
Lorenzo's expression darkened instantly.
“Save your greetings,” he snapped.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate.
“Leave us, Luca.”
Luca gave a short nod and exited quietly, closing the door behind him.
Silence settled between father and son.
Alessandro shifted slightly under the weight of Lorenzo's gaze.
“What have I done this time?” he asked carefully.
Lorenzo let out a cold, humorless chuckle.
“Is there ever a time you don’t disappoint me?”
Alessandro swallowed.
“I heard,” Lorenzo continued, stepping forward, “that you turned my house into a playground.”
Alessandro exhaled softly. “It was just small gatherings. A few friends—”
Lorenzo cut him off sharply.
“Friends?”
The word sounded almost insulting coming from him.
Alessandro stiffened but held his ground.
“I’m about to graduate. It’s normal to celebrate—”
“Normal?” Lorenzo's voice dropped, more dangerous now.
He walked closer, his presence overwhelming.
“You carry the Valenti name,” he said coldly. “There is nothing normal about your life.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“You think the world sees you as just another student?” Lorenzo continued. “You think the enemies I’ve made don’t watch this house? Don’t wait for a moment of weakness?”
Alessandro looked away, frustration flickering in his eyes.
“So I should treat everyone like an enemy?” he muttered.
Lorenzo's gaze hardened.
“Matteo is dead.”
The words hit like a bullet.
Alessandro's head snapped up. “What?”
“I killed him.”
Shock washed over Alessandro's face.
“Why?”
Alessandro stepped closer, gripping Alessandro's shoulder firmly.
“He betrayed me.”
Alessandro's breathing faltered. “That’s not possible… Matteo was like family.”
Lorenzo leaned in slightly, his voice low and chilling.
“That is exactly the problem. You believe loyalty is permanent.”
Alessandro trembled slightly under his grip.
“Even the people closest to you can turn against you,” Lorenzo continued. “That is the reality you refuse to understand.”
He released him abruptly.
“Before the end of today,” Lorenzo said, turning away, “I want a list of everyone who has been in this house.”
Alessandro hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, father.”
Lorenzo didn’t look back.
“Leave.”
Alessandro shut the door behind him, exhaling sharply.
His father was impossible.
Controlling. Ruthless. Unpredictable.
He ran a hand through his hair, still shaken by the revelation about Matteo.
But before he could think further, his phone rang.
The sudden sound made him flinch slightly.
He glanced at the screen.
Valeria.
He answered quickly.
“So,” Valeria's voice came through, playful and teasing, “you got what you wanted last night and didn’t even call to thank me?”
Alessandro frowned. “What are you talking about?”
A pause.
Then....
“Don’t act clueless,” she said. “You finally slept with Isabella. You’re welcome.”
Alessandro froze.
His mind went blank for a second.
Isabella?
Last night?
He hadn’t even been home.
A flicker of realization crossed his face.
She came over.
And he missed it.
Missed his chance.
Frustration surged through him, but he masked it quickly.
“Yeah,” he said casually. “We’ll talk at school.”
He ended the call before she could say anything else.
Immediately, he opened his messages.
There it was.
A video from Isabella.
He pressed play.
The moment her image appeared on the screen, dressed in delicate lingerie, her voice soft and inviting, Alessandro's expression darkened.
“Damn…”
He ran a hand over his face.
She had come to him.
Ready.
Willing.
And he wasn’t there.
His jaw clenched.
What a waste.
Then his gaze shifted.
Toward the corner of the room.
A slow smile spread across his lips.
The hidden camera.
He had set it up the day before, planning to capture the moment.
Carefully, he walked over and retrieved it, slipping it into his bag.
“Let’s see what I missed…”
If Isabella had been here…
He would like to see how she had been impatiently waiting for him.
A devilish smirk spread across his face.
But right now, what mattered most was fixing this.
Getting her back.
And finishing what he started.
“I need to get her here again,” he muttered.
Then, suddenly...
An idea formed.
A slow, calculating smile appeared on his face.
His father.
If there was one person who could make things happen…
It was Don Lorenzo Valenti.
Alessandro straightened, grabbing his jacket.
“I need to speak to my father.”
- Writer
