Chapter 11
Bianca cried for the first time.
Not gracefully.
Not quietly.
Her shoulders shook while she sat with both hands over her face.
Lorenzo watched.
He felt nothing useful.
Adrian remained rigid.
His eyes stayed on the table.
Lorenzo finally spoke.
His voice was so low that Bianca had to uncover her face to hear him.
“You heard her alive?”
Bianca’s mouth trembled.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo’s breathing stopped.
“Did she speak?”
A long silence.
Then Bianca nodded.
“What did she say?”
Bianca looked toward Mia’s torn drawing still sealed in an evidence sleeve across the room.
“Your name.”
Lorenzo looked away.
His hand closed.
Opened.
Closed again.
He forced it flat against the table.
“And you searched the car.”
Bianca’s eyes filled again.
“I thought if we found the phone first—”
Lorenzo turned back.
She stopped.
There was no sentence that survived his expression.
Adrian finally spoke.
“We called.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
Adrian’s throat moved.
“We called eventually.”
Anthony stepped between them before Lorenzo moved.
Not because Lorenzo ordered him.
Because he saw what was about to happen.
Lorenzo’s eyes shifted toward his oldest friend.
Anthony did not flinch.
“Not like this.”
The room went silent.
Years earlier, nobody would have placed themselves between Lorenzo and revenge.
Now someone did.
And Lorenzo listened.
That was its own shift in power.
Bianca wiped her face.
“I didn’t know about the brake line.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You wanted the problem solved.”
“I wanted Elena scared.”
“You wanted her gone.”
“Not dead.”
Adrian leaned forward.
His confidence was returning through anger.
“You’ve spent two years letting Lorenzo thank you for saving Mia.”
Bianca went still.
Adrian smiled bitterly.
“You pulled her out.”
Bianca’s eyes flashed.
“You were too busy looking for the phone.”
The alliance finally shattered completely.
Then Adrian turned toward Lorenzo.
“You want the whole truth?”
Lorenzo stared at him.
“Your wife wasn't the first person Bianca asked me to remove.”
Bianca’s face changed.
May you like
Her tears stopped instantly.
And Lorenzo realized Elena’s death might have been only the most personal part of something much older.
