Catherine’s POV
At the mention of Mrs.
Conti, something in me softened, and the ice in my chest thawed just a little.
“You didn’t tell her we broke up?”
“My mom’s heart isn’t good.
She just had surgery not long ago.” Marco’s voice dropped into something almost pleading, a tone I’d never heard from him before.
“If she finds out we split, it could set her back.
Can’t you just spend her birthday with her?
I’ll find the right time to tell her about the breakup later, ease her into it…”
Trash he might be, but at least he loved his mother.
And I’ll give him this much: I could always tell that his parents genuinely cared about me.
They weren’t like other guys’ parents, picking apart every little thing about the girl their son brought home.
They never made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
If anything, they went out of their way to look after me.
Honestly, it was with Mrs.
Conti that I first understood what a mother’s love was supposed to feel like.
My own mom never gave me anything close to it.
“Fine.
I’ll come tomorrow.”
I didn’t wait for his reaction.
I turned on my heel and walked into the building, and I didn’t look back once.
Lorenzo’s POV
Inside the Rolls-Royce, I pulled out my phone and called Leo.
“Buy me a place in your building.
Something move-in ready, immediately.”
There was a pause on the line long enough that I could practically hear him choking.
A man of my standing, living in the same complex as my own assistant?
But Leo knew better than to question me.
“Of course, sir.
I’ll get right on it.”
“Wait.” I let the word hang for a second.
“Buy the unit next to yours.”
Having him close by would make work more convenient.
Another pause, this one heavier, like the poor bastard felt the sky caving in on him.
“Sir,” he ventured carefully, “the truth is, the neighborhood really isn’t that nice—”
I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it.
“Didn’t you tell me your building was great?
That you were living comfortably?”
“Uh, well, after a while it kind of loses its shine.
And the unit next to mine is just a small three-bedroom.
You’d hate it, sir, it’s not your style at all—”
“That’s fine.
Small is exactly what I need.”
He made one last desperate lunge.
“The thing is, sir, I think that unit already sold.”
“Not a problem.
Tell the buyer I’ll pay double.”
Dead silence.
I imagined him sitting there, wondering what kind of monster would shell out twice the market rate just for the privilege of working his assistant to the bone around the clock. Read the latest chapters at novelping(.)com.
“Understood, sir,” Leo finally said, and I swear I could hear the tears in his voice.
“I’ll take care of it.”
I ended the call and let my gaze drift out the window, toward the entrance she’d disappeared into.
Small was exactly what I needed.
Close was exactly what I needed.
Catherine’s POV
I slid my key into the lock and pushed the door open, already bracing myself.
The second I stepped inside, Elena Vitale’s voice hit me like a slap.
“There she is.
Miss Too-Good-To-Answer-Her-Phone.” She was on her feet in a heartbeat, arms crossed, face pinched into that ugly expression I knew far too well.
“I called you all day.
All day, Catherine!
I take you in, I raise you, I go out of my way to line up a wealthy man for you, and this is the thanks I get?
You ungrateful little brat.”
I hung my bag on the hook by the door without a word.
That only wound her up more.
“If you had half the sweetness your sister has, I wouldn’t have to lose sleep over you.
But no.
You’ve got this stubborn streak a mile wide.
Mr.
Ricci wasn’t good enough for you, so I found you a new one—and Mr.
Whitman didn’t even mind where you come from, and you’re the one turning your nose up?
Who do you think you are?”
She’d clearly been saving this up all day, and now it came pouring out of her, rapid-fire, like a machine gun that wouldn’t quit.
“He called me, you know.
Mr.
Whitman.
Sat at that restaurant for an hour and a half like a fool, waiting on you.” Her voice climbed.
“You never showed.
Not a word, not a phone call.
So you tell me right now—what exactly were you doing?”
I finally looked at her.
“Getting married.”
That stopped her cold.
“…What?”
“You told me to go get married.” I kept my voice flat, almost bored.
“So I went and got married.”
The silence that dropped over the room was almost worth the whole miserable day.
Then Elena’s face went a shade of red I’d never seen before.
“You did what?”
“I got married.
“It’s done.
Signed and legal.”
“Married?” she screeched, and I swear the neighbors two floors down probably heard it.
“To who?
Some nobody who couldn’t even show up at my door and ask my permission?
What kind of man marries a girl behind her family’s back?”
The kind who didn’t need your permission, I thought.
But I stayed quiet.
Elena took my silence as an invitation to keep going, and go she did.
“I know your type.
You went out and found some broke loser, didn’t you?
Some deadbeat with holes in his shoes who talked pretty and swept you off your feet.” Her lip curled.
“Mr.
Whitman is a rich man, Catherine.
And you threw it away for what, love?
Love doesn’t pay rent.
Love doesn’t put food on this table.”
Something inside me went very cold and very still.
“You don’t know anything about him,” I said.
“I know he’s a nobody, or he’d have the decency to face me.” She jabbed a finger at me, her rings flashing.
“You listen to me.
You go back to him right now, tonight, and you get it annulled.
Whatever paper you signed, you rip it up.
You are not throwing your future in the gutter for some penniless—”
“Stop.” My hands had curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
“Don’t talk about him like that.
You’ve never met him.
You have no idea who he is.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed, and I watched a nasty thought slither across her face.
“Wait.” Her voice dropped low, suspicious.
“Don’t tell me.
That thug from the other day.
The one who stepped in for you.” She said it like the words tasted rotten.
“You didn’t actually go and marry some lowlife street rat, did you?”
Yes.
The word sat right behind my teeth.
I didn’t say it.
I didn’t.
There was no point.
She’d already decided who he was, the same way she’d decided who I was years ago, and nothing I said tonight would move her an inch.
Standing there, I realized I needed to get out of this house as soon as possible.