Please Divorce Me, Alpha! {BL}

Chapter 14: How to Impress a Mafia Don (A Beginner’s Guide)

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His long whitish-blond hair was loosely tied back, with a few strands falling around his face. His suit was black, impeccably tailored, and free of any unnecessary embellishments.

His emerald eyes met mine. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of something in them...disappointment as him and Lydia exchanged greetings.

He looked like he had expected someone else. Blair, perhaps.

Naturally. I couldn’t blame him. If I’d been promised princess Blair and got stuck with me instead, I might’ve asked for a refund.

Lydia gave me a gentle shove an whispered. "Remember to apologize."

I stepped forward. "M...mr. Castelli."

"Lorenzo," he corrected me, his voice low and calm.

Nah, I still preferred Dracula.

But because valued my life, I couldn’t call him that in front of Lydia.

I sat across from him. "Right. Lorenzo."

Silence enveloped us. I glanced at him. He looked at me and I smiled. He didn’t. I glanced at Lydia, who shot me a warning glare.

Right, I needed to start a conversation.

"So," I said brightly, "how have you been?"

Lorenzo stared back at me. "Fine."

"Good."

Silence resumed as my mind went blank.

Yikes no wonder I didn’t have friends. How the hell do you even start a conversation?!

I cleared my throat. "Soo, nice weather we’re having, huh."

One of the bodyguards turned his head away. I wasn’t sure if he was suppressing a smile or getting ready to laugh at my impending doom.

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "It’s... raining."

"Yes." I nodded. "Very committed rain."

His mouth twitched, just slightly. I wasn’t sure if it was real.

Then Lydia stepped in. "Alex would like to apologize for what happened at the gala."

I turned to her. Would I? Apparently, I would.

I faced Lorenzo again. "Oh...yeah, that. I’m sorry."

He waited.

I sighed. "For the cake."

His eyes narrowed just a bit.

"And for insulting you."

"Good."

"And your bodyguard."

Silence.

"And the sunglasses."

Lydia looked horrified.

I winced. "Sorry."

He glanced at Lydia and his bodyguards and snapped his fingers. "I’d like to speak to Alex privately, leave."

Lydia glanced at me before she left with Lorenzo’s bodyguards, giving me that pretty much said. "Don’t you fucking mess this up you, son of a bitch."

When they were gone from earshot, Lorenzo leaned back in his chair. "Are you really sorry for your actions that night?"

"Nope." At least I was being truthful.

Something about that seemed to amuse him.

He scrutinized me for several seconds, and I suddenly felt painfully aware of every little detail about myself: my bruised cheek, the slightly crooked collar, the nervous fidgeting of my fingers beneath the table.

Then he asked, "Why are you here?"

I glanced at Lydia, who was glaring at me. "To apologize...and stuff."

"Not what I meant."

I returned my attention to Lorenzo, his gaze steady. For some reason, lying felt deeply exhausting right then.

Maybe because I’d spent my whole life lying just to get by, and honestly, I was tired. So I told him the truth.

"I’m here because my family wants you to marry me."

Lorenzo didn’t react. "I know."

"And I don’t want to marry you to be honest." I pressed on. "I don’t want to marry anyone."

Lorenzo’s eyes remained locked on mine. I swallowed. "Especially not someone people whisper about."

His demeanor shifted. "People whisper about many things."

"They say your previous fiancés disappeared."

Lorenzo stayed still. "They weren’t my fiancés."

I blinked. "What?"

"They were potential arrangements."

"Oh." I nodded slowly. "That’s... slightly better."

His eyebrow arched. "Only slightly?"

"Yeah, doesn’t really change the fact that they are still missing, I really don’t want to be the third one."

Lorenzo’s lips curved into the faintest smile. It was the first real reaction I’d received from him, and unfortunately, it made him even more attractive. I hated that. I hated him for that too.

"I don’t want this marriage," I continued. "But my family has decided I’m useful for once, so here I am."

Lorenzo clasped his hands together. "What would you rather do?"

I hesitated, nobody had ever really asked me that, not sincerely. The answer slipped out before I could think twice. "Leave."

His eyes sharpened. "Leave where?"

"Anywhere." I shrugged. "I want to travel. I want to see places I’ve only read about. I want to go some places really far away."

My voice dropped. "I want my own money. My own apartment. A job...a life."

Lorenzo listened. I laughed softly, though there was nothing funny about it. "But apparently, that’s too ambitious, so I’ll have to be your mate instead."

"And if you had money?"

I looked him in the eye. "I’d disappear."

Another long silence fell between us. Then I added, "Preferably somewhere nobody knows about the Sinclair family."

Lorenzo leaned back. The previous disappointment had vanished from his expression, replaced by something else, interest. I wasn’t sure if that was better. Probably not.

"How much money would it take?"

I stared at him. "What?"

"To disappear."

I frowned. "I don’t know." I thought it over. "Enough to survive."

"For how long?"

"Forever would be ideal."

His charming smile deepened again.

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Looking like you’re actually amused."

"I am."

I gaped at him. "Why?"

"Because you’re interesting."

I almost chuckled. "That’s unfortunate."

"For whom?"

"For you."

His smile widened.

Then I had to remind myself. Alex, you’re here to make a good impression.

Lorenzo’s quiet laugh cut through our exchange. I glanced at him, and he looked almost... entertained. It was unsettling.

Very unsettling, then he picked up the glass in front of him, took a leisurely sip, and set it back down.

"If you want money," he said calmly, "and I’m forced to have a marriage that fulfills my father’s wishes, maybe there’s a solution."

I stared at him. "What kind of solution?"

His emerald eyes locked onto mine, a faint, dangerous smile forming on his face.

"Let’s make a deal, shall we?"

And somehow, despite all I’d stolen, everything I planned, and every terrible choice I’d made in my twenty-five years, I felt like this was about to be the worst one yet.

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