Burned Out of the Moretti Name Chapter 06

Burned Out of the Moretti Name Chapter 06

For weeks, Sofia barely left his side.

Even after the fever broke, she watched over his medicine, his dressings, and the long nights when pain kept him awake.

And when he finally began to recover, she still stayed close-making sure he rested, keeping him warm,

and never quite trusting that he was truly safe.

Lorenzo remembered one moment with painful clarity.

He had been standing on the terrace, still weak, still pale, and Sofia had come up behind him to settle his

coat more securely over his shoulders.

That was when he made himself a promise.

If he lived, he would spend the rest of his life being good to her.

So when had he forgotten?

Had Sofia loved him too well, too completely, until he began to believe she would never leave?

Or had he simply grown so used to her devotion that he stopped seeing it at all?

Lorenzo closed his eyes.

Bianca had drawn him in because she was bright and reckless and alive in a way that felt almost dangerous. There was something in her youth, in the careless way she moved through the world, that

reminded him of Sofia years ago.

But even then, he had never imagined losing Sofia.

Never.

So why had she left?

Lorenzo looked down at the wedding ring in the box and felt his chest tighten.

His phone vibrated.

Midnight.

Lorenzo glanced at the screen and answered at once.

“What is it?”

“There’s been a fire,” one of his men said.

Lorenzo went still. “Where?”

“At the coastal apartment. The one of Sofia.”

His grip tightened around the phone.

“And Sofia?”

A beat of silence.

“They think she was inside.”

For a second, he forgot how to breathe.

Then he was moving.

By the time he reached the coast, the building was already half-engulfed in smoke and emergency lights.

He barely stopped before someone caught his arm.

“You can’t go in.”

“Where is she?” Lorenzo snapped.

No one answered.

Then he saw her car.

Her phone came next, sealed in a clear evidence bag, the case blackened by heat.

One of his men stepped closer. “The concierge saw her go in. No one saw her come out.”

Lorenzo stared at the scorched phone in silence.

Then he lunged for the entrance.

It took two men to hold him back.

“Let me go.”

His voice was raw now.

“Let me go.”

Above them, something inside the apartment collapsed.

Lorenzo stopped fighting for one terrible second and looked up at the flames.

For a long moment, he could not move.

The heat from the fire pressed against his face, but he felt none of it. All he could see was her car, her

phone, the flames eating through the windows where light should still have been

Sofia was supposed to be somewhere he could still reach.

His hand closed around the ring still in his pocket until the edges bit into his palm. It was the last thing

she had left him, and now it felt less like a promise than a verdict.

He had betrayed her, and she had gone to that place alone.

The thought hit him so hard he nearly doubled over.

He tried not to imagine her inside. Tried not to picture her hearing the first crackle of smoke, turning toward the door too late, realizing there was no way out.

His throat tightened.

Only hours ago, he had still believed he could bring her back.

Now all he could do was watch the fire swallow what was left.

Then another thought broke through.

Bianca.

The way she had looked back at the auction and smiled when she saw Sofia.

The way she had sulked, provoked, pushed.

Lorenzo went cold.

He had been so busy lying to himself that he had missed what was right in front of him.

Bianca had known exactly what she was doing.

Maybe Sofia had walked away because of him.

But maybe Bianca had made sure she did it bleeding.

The thought hit him like another blow.

Grief gave way to something sharper.

Darker.

If Bianca had gone near her, if she had cornered her, taunted her, driven her one step closer to this

Lorenzo turned from the fire, his face hardening.

“Get the car,” he said

No one moved fast enough.

His voice dropped lower.

“Now.”