PART 2

Aria didn’t move when Gianna approached.

Not because she was refusing.

Because her body no longer trusted kindness to be real.

Derek had taught her that lesson well.

Gianna stopped a few feet away, not rushing, not touching.

That mattered.

People like Derek always reached first. Always took space first. Always decided first.

Gianna didn’t.

She just said gently, “I’m going to check your breathing first, okay?”

Aria gave a small, uncertain nod.

Lorenzo stayed by the doorway.

Not interfering.

Not leaving.

Just watching like he was memorizing the shape of the moment.

Gianna moved carefully, scanning Aria’s throat without touching it yet. “You’re safe right now,” she said. “No one is coming in here without me saying so.”

Aria almost laughed again.

Safe was a word that had started to feel like a joke.

But Gianna didn’t say it like comfort.

She said it like fact.

Outside the suite, the hallway remained quiet.

Too quiet.

Aria’s ears were still ringing from Derek’s voice, from the rain, from the running.

Then she remembered.

“He said he wouldn’t leave,” she whispered suddenly. “Derek. He won’t just leave.”

Lorenzo finally pushed off the doorframe slightly.

“He already has.”

Aria shook her head. “No. He doesn’t stop. He comes back. He—”

She stopped herself.

Because she realized what she was about to say out loud.

He always finds me.

Gianna noticed the shift immediately. “Has he done this before?”

Aria didn’t answer.

Silence was enough.

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened—not louder, not angrier.

Colder.

He stepped into the room just one pace.

“Gianna,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Call security. Not hotel security.”

Gianna nodded once, already moving.

Aria looked up sharply. “What does that mean?”

Lorenzo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he looked at her like he was deciding how much truth she could survive at once.

Then he said, “It means your ex is not going to like what happens next.”

Aria’s stomach tightened.

“That’s not comforting.”

“I didn’t intend it to be.”

That honesty hit harder than reassurance ever could.

Gianna knelt beside the bed now, opening her bag. “I’m going to clean your lip first. It might sting.”

Aria flinched before the cotton even touched her.

Gianna paused instantly.

Didn’t continue.

Just waited.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” she said.

No pressure.

No insistence.

Aria swallowed hard.

“I’m… ready.”

Gianna cleaned the split gently, carefully, like Aria was something that had been handled too roughly by the world and needed patience to exist again.

Lorenzo turned slightly away during it, giving her privacy without being asked.

That should not have meant anything.

But it did.

Because Derek would have watched.

Derek always watched.

Always corrected.

Always controlled.

When Gianna finished, she looked up at Lorenzo. “She needs imaging. Possible rib fracture.”

Lorenzo nodded once. “Arrange it.”

Aria’s eyes snapped to him. “Arrange it? In a hotel?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not normal.”

A faint pause.

“No,” Lorenzo agreed. “It isn’t.”

And somehow, that was the first completely honest thing she had heard all night.

A sharp knock came from the outer door.

Not a guest knock.

Not hesitant.

Confident.

Gianna stood immediately.

Lorenzo didn’t move yet.

The knock came again.

Then a voice.

Male.

Smooth.

Controlled.

“Aria. I know you’re in there.”

Aria went completely still.

Her blood turned cold so fast it felt like pain.

Derek.

Gianna looked at Lorenzo. “We’re not opening that.”

Lorenzo’s gaze didn’t leave the door.

“Of course not.”

The knocking turned harder.

Less polite.

“Aria, this is ridiculous. You’re scaring people. Come out and we can fix this like adults.”

Aria’s hands trembled.

“Don’t,” she whispered automatically, though she didn’t know who she was speaking to.

Derek kept talking through the door.

“I know you’re upset. I know you think I hurt you, but you provoked me, Aria. You always do this when you get overwhelmed—”

Lorenzo moved.

Just one step.

But it changed everything in the room.

The air tightened.

Gianna stopped entirely.

Even Derek outside seemed to feel it.

Because his voice paused.

Lorenzo spoke calmly, toward the door.

“You should stop talking.”

A short laugh from the hallway.

“And who are you supposed to be?”

Silence.

Then Lorenzo replied, evenly:

“The man standing between you and consequences.”

The hallway went quiet again.

For a moment, Aria thought maybe Derek would leave.

But then—

Aria heard it.

A second set of footsteps.

More than one.

Derek had brought people.

Of course he had.

Gianna’s hand immediately went to her phone.

Lorenzo raised his hand slightly—not stopping her, but signaling.

“Wait.”

Aria’s breathing sped up. “He has lawyers. Police. He—he always escalates when I don’t—”

Lorenzo turned slightly toward her now.

And his voice softened just enough to cut deeper.

“He escalates because you’ve been alone.”

That stopped her.

Outside, Derek’s voice sharpened again.

“Open the door or I will have this entire floor cleared. Do you understand who my father is?”

Lorenzo exhaled slowly.

Almost like patience running out.

Then he walked to the door.

Aria’s breath caught. “Don’t—”

But he didn’t open it yet.

He just spoke through it, close enough that his voice didn’t need to rise.

“Your father’s name doesn’t open doors here.”

A pause.

Then, colder:

“And neither does yours.”

Silence.

Then Derek laughed again, but it sounded thinner now.

“You think you can hide her? In a hotel? In my city?”

Lorenzo finally placed his hand on the door handle.

Not opening it yet.

Just holding it.

“As of tonight,” he said quietly, “it stopped being your city.”

A beat.

Then—

Click.

The lock disengaged from the hallway side.

Not from Derek.

From hotel security.

Gianna whispered, “Lorenzo…”

But Lorenzo’s eyes stayed on the door.

“Now,” he said softly, “we see what kind of man he is when he isn’t the only one in control.”

Aria couldn’t breathe.

Because for the first time since she ran—

Derek wasn’t chasing her alone anymore.

And whatever was about to walk into that hallway…

was not going to be gentle.