Chapter 2 - The Logic of Protection
The study door opened quietly, and a large, stone-faced man in a tailored dark suit entered. Marco. He carried a professional medical briefcase and a tablet. Without a word, he set the briefcase down at Lorenzo's feet and handed the tablet to his boss.
Lorenzo scanned the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he read the data. "Maroni’s leftovers," he murmured, his thumb scrolling through the text. "Vance is a low-level enforcer trying to carve out a territory on Elm Street while the Maroni family collapses. He thinks an independent tailor shop is an easy target for a front operation."
Lorenzo tossed the tablet onto the sofa beside Daisy. He opened the medical kit, pulling out antiseptic wipes, sterile bandages, and a cold compress.
"Mr. Bianco, please," Daisy whispered, her face burning as he reached for her injured foot again. "Your assistant can do that. Or I can do it. You shouldn't be..."
"Be quiet, Daisy," Lorenzo said calmly. It was the first time he had used her first name, and the sound of it sent a strange, deep shiver through her body. "Marco has hands built for breaking jaws, not cleaning wounds. Hold still."
His large, calloused hands were incredibly precise. He ripped open an antiseptic wipe and cleaned the scraped skin around her ankle. Daisy gritted her teeth, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Lorenzo paused, his eyes rising to hers, holding her gaze until she nodded that she could handle it. He applied the cold compress, wrapping her ankle in a professional compression bandage that immediately relieved the throbbing pressure.
"The warehouse on 14th Street," Lorenzo said, snapping the medical kit shut. "You said he gave you until midnight?"
Daisy checked the grandfather clock in the corner of the study. It was 9:48 p.m. "Yes. He said if I wasn't there with the signed deed, the shop would burn."
"Good," Lorenzo said, standing up and smoothing down his white dress shirt. He turned to Marco. "Assemble the first tier detail. Two SUVs. Tell the boys we're going to the South Side for an inspection."
"Mr. Bianco, what are you going to do?" Daisy asked, panic rising in her chest. She pushed herself up from the sofa, forgetting her injury for a fraction of a second, and immediately stumbled.
Lorenzo caught her again. This time, he didn't set her down. He swept her up into his arms, lifting her full weight effortlessly against his chest. Daisy gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his broad shoulders for balance. She felt the dense, hard muscle beneath his shirt, felt the steady, calm rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt massive, clumsy, and entirely out of place in his elegant arms, but Lorenzo didn't show a hint of strain. He held her as if she were the most precious, fragile thing in his possession.
"I am going to pay your grandfather's debt," Lorenzo said, walking out of the study with her in his arms, Marco following closely behind. "And then I am going to make sure Mick Vance never walks down Elm Street again."
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"Please, don't kill anyone because of me," she pleaded, her face buried close to his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of cedar and bergamot.
Lorenzo stopped at the grand entrance of his estate, looking down at her with a chillingly beautiful smirk. "I am a businessman, Daisy. I only kill when the return on investment is worth the cleanup. Tonight, we are simply renegotiating the terms of your lease on life."
