Chapter 2
The nausea hit me like a tidal wave.
When Lorenzo rushed over, all I could smell was Isabella’s signature perfume – a custom French fragrance he’d commissioned just for her at some obscene price. The scent made my stomach lurch. 1 shoved him away, still playing my part as the blind wife as I groped my way to the bathroom. My body knew what my heart couldn’t accept.
Kneeling on the cold tile floor, I heaved into the toilet. When the nausea subsided, something in the trash caught my eye–a pregnancy test with two unmistakable pink lines. It stared back at me, a cruel reminder of my own hollow marriage.
I couldn’t even cry. The pain had gone beyond tears. Lorenzo hadn’t touched me in the six months since 1 lost my sight. Now I knew why he’d been busy getting his assistant pregnant.
–
“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice cracked with panic as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. His hands trembled against my skin, desperately clinging as if I might disappear. The same hands that had just explored every inch of Isabella’s body.
God, Lorenzo, you deserve an Oscar for this performance. I pulled away, creating a chasm between us.
“Just stomach issues. Everything I eat seems to come back up.”
When had I become such a convincing liar? I used to hate liars with a passion. Now look at me – I’d
become one.
My words sent him into overdrive. Mr. Germaphobe suddenly didn’t care about the mess as he pulled me close again.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been buried in work, leaving you alone for meals, not taking care of you properly. This is all my fault.”
He cradled my face like I was made of glass, his forehead creased with what looked like genuine concern. Back in our bedroom, he reached for my clothes to help me change – a routine since I’d lost my sight. This time, I stopped him. For the first time in our marriage, I dressed myself. The momentary flash of panic in his eyes was almost worth it.
As I lay in bed, he fussed with the covers like a mother hen. “Are you mad at me? For being absent? Tomorrow’s your birthday – I’ll clear my schedule, spend the whole day with you.”
The great Lorenzo Visconti, the shark of Wall Street who made grown men tremble, reduced to this simpering act. Was it a blessing or a curse to witness this side of him?
Soven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Pru
37.3%
Chapter 2
Just as sleep began to pull me under, his phone vibrated. Thinking I was out, he answered after checking my stillness.
“You savage, you destroyed my La Perla set. Get up here and bring me a new one. Now.”
“On my way,” he whispered, brushing my cheek with false tenderness before slipping away.
I gripped the Egyptian cotton sheets until my knuckles went white, tears finally breaking through my defenses. So Isabella hadn’t left? Was she living here, treating my blindness like some cosmic joke?
Seven days, I reminded myself. Seven days until I’d be gone, cutting every tie with Lorenzo Visconti. Seven days until freedom.
