A FEW MINUTES LATER
After riding like a madman, Lorenzo's motorcycle finally stopped at the driveway of his villa. The engine cut off with a final harsh growl. Nervously, he ripped off his helmet and placed it on the bike. His heavy, fast steps echoed across the courtyard as he stormed inside, a dark look on his face. With a swift motion, he opened the living room door.
His eyes widened immediately. Sitting there calmly were his father Carlo, his mother Rosa, the mayor… and, on the couch, a girl asleep, mouth wide open, completely slouched as if she were at home.
Lorenzo (in a commanding voice)
What's going on here?
His tone cracked through the room, cold and sharp. All eyes turned toward him. The door slammed shut behind him as he advanced, fists already clenched, jaw tight. His father stood immediately, trying to contain the tension.
Carlo (sighing)
Finally, Lorenzo… you're here. Sit next to your future wife; we've been waiting too long. You need to sign the papers.
Lorenzo (red with anger)
And where is this so-called future wife you're talking about? Huh? Where is she?
Rosa (sighing, slightly weary)
She's right behind you, on the couch. Wake her up; she fell asleep waiting for you.
Up until then, focused on his father, Lorenzo hadn't even noticed the figure behind him. But hearing his mother, he spun around abruptly. His eyes widened in shock.
A tiny girl next to him. Lying there as if she owned the place, mouth slightly open, hair scattered. When he realized it was her, a surge of rage shot straight to his head.
Lorenzo (shouting, deep voice echoing)
Are you kidding me?! Is this your joke?! This girl on MY couch? Is she the future wife you're talking about?!
His voice exploded like a thunderclap, reverberating violently through the room. Rosa jumped, tense. Chloé woke with a start, heart pounding. She sprang to her feet, still half-asleep, and met Lorenzo's gaze directly.
He stood there, as solid as a rock, fists clenched, anger painted on his face. His black eyes burned, scrutinizing her from head to toe, a mix of surprise, fury, and disbelief.
Chloé slowly lifted her head toward him. At her 1.60m height, she almost had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. But despite the height difference, her expression remained sharp and defiant, as if refusing to be intimidated.
Chloé (muttering, insolent)
Who are you? Why are you yelling like that? You almost scared me—my heart nearly jumped out!
She placed her hands on her chest as if to calm her racing heart, her eyes gleaming with fear. Her words, a mix of naivety and insolence, made Lorenzo's blood boil even more.
Lorenzo (eyes wide, growling voice)
Am I dreaming, or are you all mocking me?! And you… who do you think you are, daring to ask me why I'm yelling in my own house?
Chloé parted her lips, ready to retort, but Carlo quickly stepped in.
Carlo (calmly)
Lorenzo, let me introduce Chloé Martin, your future wife.
He then turned to her.
Carlo (still calm)
Chloé, this is Lorenzo De Santis, my only son.
A heavy, almost suffocating silence fell over the room. A mixture of anger, surprise, and… silent admiration lingered in the air.
Chloé, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, studied Lorenzo from head to toe. Her gaze swept over his chest, arms, and build, as if undressing him with her eyes without shame. He, in contrast, stared at her with harsh eyes, jaw clenched, fists tight, as if she were nothing more than an insect he could crush.
Chloé, small in her oversized jogging suit, didn't even reach Lorenzo's shoulder, but in her mind, he looked like a living Greek statue.
Carlo (calmly)
Sit down, kids. We've already wasted enough time… let's start the ceremony.
Lorenzo (red with anger, shouting)
What ceremony?! Father, are you kidding me?! You bring a girl into MY house and want me to marry… that thing?!
Chloé (eyes wide, outraged)
Huh?! Wait… are you talking about me?! The "girl" and the "thing"? No way! For your information, I'm 17… almost 18! So watch your language, Mr. "Bad Temper."
Her reply made Lorenzo blush even more with rage. He hadn't expected her to dare challenge him.
Lorenzo (furious, authoritative voice)
You, girl, shut your mouth, okay?! I'm talking to my father, not you. And by the way… who do you think you are, huh? You think you have the right to talk back like that?!
Chloé (muttering)
Well… I'm your future wife.
Lorenzo (eyes blazing, exploding)
What did you just whisper?! Are you insulting me?!
Rosa stepped forward quickly, placing a hand on her son's shoulder to try and calm his boiling anger. But Lorenzo, burning with rage, didn't take his eyes off Chloé. She, arms crossed, met his gaze with insolence. The mayor, sitting back a bit, watched in shock at the tension erupting between the soon-to-be-married couple.
Rosa (pleading)
Lorenzo, please… calm down, son. Sit and sign the marriage papers. The mayor is waiting.
Lorenzo (cold, firm)
I've already told you I won't marry. So get out of my house. And take this girl back where you found her. Because I… am not going to be a babysitter for a teenager.
Chloé (red with anger, instantly responding)
You, the guy with a face like you just ate a lemon… speak to me with respect, okay?! I didn't leave my house to show up here and leave like a nobody! You think I asked for this? I didn't want this marriage either! If it weren't for my father, I wouldn't be here! So you'll calm down, sit, I'll sit, we'll sign these damn papers, and each go our way! Clear?!
SLAP! SLAP!
The sharp sound of two slaps rang violently through the air.
Carlo and Rosa (shouting, eyes wide)
Lorenzo!!!
Under his parents' horrified eyes, Lorenzo had just delivered two monumental slaps to Chloé's face. The crack echoed like thunder. The young girl fell to the ground, hands pressed to her burning cheeks.
Tears welled up despite herself. Her face burning, she slowly lifted her head and met Lorenzo's gaze. Her eyes shone, half-defiant, half-hurt, but she refused to cry in front of him.
Lorenzo stood straight, fists clenched, breathing heavily, rage still coursing through his veins. His parents, shocked, froze, unable to understand how far their son was willing to go to reject this marriage.
Chloé (hand on her cheek, eyes red with pain)
Ah, great, now I know you hit faster than you think.
Lorenzo (surprised, staring at her)
You really have guts…
Chloé (red with anger)
Guts? Honestly, for a guy who thinks he's tough, you still have a lot to learn if you think two slaps will intimidate me.
Lorenzo turned his hardened gaze toward his parents.
Lorenzo (imposing voice)
It seems you didn't inform this girl that I'm not her equal. This is the woman you want to force on me? Get out of my house before I cause a massacre. Take her far from here, or else…
Carlo (stern look, firm voice)
Or else nothing, Lorenzo. You will sign those marriage papers, or I expose everything I know about you and your dirty money.
Lorenzo (shouting, stunned)
WHAAAT?!
The silence that fell was icy, cutting the breath from everyone. Lorenzo stared at his father as if he were a stranger. His fists trembled, his black gaze shot lightning. In front of him, Carlo remained impassive, chin raised, determination in his eyes.
Chloé, still dazed from the slaps, rose with difficulty and sat on the couch. Her hands trembled slightly, but her eyes shifted between father and son with silent intensity. Rosa, petrified, barely dared to breathe, while the mayor still did not dare speak.
Lorenzo (voice trembling with rage)
You… you're threatening me, father? Do you realize what you're doing? I remind you I'm your son, and you… dare to threaten me like that?!
Carlo (firmly, without flinching)
It's not a threat, Lorenzo. It's a choice. Either you sign the papers and take responsibility as a man, or you end up behind bars.
Rosa (panicking, trembling voice)
Carlo! What are you saying?! You can't…
Carlo (cutting her off, firmly)
Silence, Rosa. This is between my son and me.
Lorenzo stayed silent for a moment, eyes fixed on his father. The tension was palpable, almost unbearable. His lips trembled, his gaze full of cold hatred. He wanted to lunge at Carlo, smash his face, but he was his father. He knew him too well. And he knew Carlo was fully capable of handing him over to justice.
Then, in a hoarse voice, he spat out his response:
Lorenzo (calmer, but venomous)
Where are your damn marriage papers?
Carlo (calmly, almost satisfied)
Mayor, bring them here.
The mayor rose cautiously, holding two sheets and a pen in his trembling hands. He approached Lorenzo timidly. Lorenzo, dark-eyed, snatched the pen roughly, grabbed the papers, and marched briskly to the side table.
He slammed them down, crouched slightly, and scribbled his signature quickly. His fingers shook with rage at every stroke. Once done, he threw the pen onto the table with a sharp noise.
He straightened slowly, turned his burning gaze toward his father, and spoke in a cold voice:
Lorenzo (imposing voice, dark gaze)
Tell her about me, because if she provokes me, I'll beat her badly. I hate rebellious teenagers; they disgust me.
Having said this, he turned on his heels, striding up the stairs. Each step echoed like a threatening drumbeat. Without looking back, he disappeared upstairs, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence.
Chloé, petrified, felt her heart pound. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself step by step toward the side table. Her cold fingers grabbed the pen. Hands still shaking, she signed the marriage papers, throat tight, almost relieved to be rid of them.
The mayor, impassive, carefully put the documents in his briefcase. He approached Carlo and handed over the official deed.
Mayor (calmly)
It's done, sir. We only needed their signatures. They are now legally married, and Miss Chloé Martin is officially under your son's responsibility.
Carlo (slightly smiling)
Thank you. I'll visit your office a bit later.
The mayor nodded, shook Carlo's hand, and left the room without another word. The door closed behind him, leaving a tense atmosphere in the living room. Rosa and Carlo approached Chloé, their gaze softer, almost protective.
Carlo (apologetically)
We're sorry for the slaps our son gave you. You should know… Lorenzo can be brutal sometimes. Try to control your words around him. He's not a bad boy, just too authoritative. Over time, you'll get to know each other… you'll see, you'll get used to him.
Rosa (gently, with a motherly smile)
We're leaving now. Don't worry, tomorrow you'll get clothes and a phone. You can call us if needed.
Chloé (politely, lowering her head)
Okay, I understand. Thank you.
Rosa offered a tender smile, gently touched her hair, like a mother comforting her daughter. She then picked up her bag from the couch and, alongside Carlo, left the house. The door closed softly. Silence fell again… Chloé was alone. Alone with Lorenzo somewhere in this huge villa.
Chloé (inner voice, lost gaze)
Am I dreaming? Did I really just get married, or is this a nightmare? And the worst… my dear husband slapped me like I was a punching bag. My head still throbs. Seriously, he's powerful, this arrogant guy. I saw the sky three times before falling back to earth when he hit me. I'd better sleep, just to sort my mind, because my life is taking a turn I don't even understand.
After standing frozen in the living room for a long time, Chloé grabbed her abandoned bag from the couch. She slowly climbed the stairs, eyes scanning the house, discovering each detail with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Chloé (murmuring with a bitter smile)
Where am I going to sleep? I hope there are two rooms because there's no way I'm sharing a bed with this man… especially after he nearly tore my soul out with those slaps.
Reaching the upstairs hallway, she found two doors. Without thinking further, she turned the handle of the first room. Her eyes widened.
The room was huge, almost excessive. Light-colored walls reflected the light from a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A gigantic bed, at least triple-sized, stood facing the door, draped in neatly made sheets. A few steps from the bed, a large glass door opened into another room, hinting at an adjoining bathroom.
Chloé (amazed, eyes sparkling)
Wow… this is exactly my dream room.
Entering the room, she gently closed the door behind her. She tossed her bag casually on the couch opposite the bed, just a few steps from the entrance. Then, she moved to the middle of the room, arms crossed, a small smile on her lips. Her curious gaze swept the place with wonder.
Chloé (murmuring, half amused, half moved)
It's so beautiful here… I wish I were here with my daddy. I'll miss him so much.
Her smile faded, leaving a shadow of sadness on her face. A lump formed in her throat thinking of the distance from her father. Fear of being away from him invaded her heart. But she had no choice: she accepted this forced marriage so her father could undergo surgery. Now… there was no turning back.
Chloé (murmuring, looking at the ceiling)
Where is that guy who's supposed to be my husband? I hope this isn't his room… I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep.
With a sigh of exasperation, she shed her jogging suit and dropped it in the middle of the room. She kept only her oversized sweater, falling to her hips, and a string that left her thighs bare. She then removed her sneakers, tossed them casually, and collapsed onto the huge bed. Face buried in the pillows, she let out a small groan.
Chloé (murmuring, annoyed)
Ouch… my head still hurts. This guy has iron hands, seriously! Two slaps, and I thought I saw my ancestors. He's going to pay, that's for sure. His slaps won't go unpunished, oh no. But for now, better sleep, or I'll end up crying.
Despite her deliberately ironic tone, a tear rolled down her cheek, splashing on the pillow. She closed her eyes, exhausted, heart heavy. Even though she tried to keep her cool, this forced marriage drained her strength and stirred a deep sadness, accentuated by the absence of her father.
What she didn't know was that just a few steps away, behind the glass door leading to an adjoining office, Lorenzo sat in his leather chair. A glass of whiskey in hand, eyes red with anger, he seethed. Each burning sip of alcohol fueled his rage further. The very idea of this marriage disgusted him. Being forced to share his life with a stranger… a teenager, in his eyes.
His fingers gripped the glass as if to crush it. He had never allowed any woman on this bed. Not even a fly could cross certain boundaries. So, what would happen when he entered and discovered Chloé lying on this bed he considered untouchable?
Fate was about to answer that question.
To be continued…