Lorenzo couldn't help the bile rising to his throat as he watched Andreas, sitting there in all his self-important glory.
His chestnut shoulder-length hair was styled in a messy half-up bun that women found sexy but annoyed the shit out of him. Small hoop earrings dangled from each of his earlobes. Black. Same hue as his high-end tux.
The sight of him irked Lorenzo to the point of death. Especially whenever he flashed that fake-ass smile of his at every single dignitary who crossed his line of vision.
"Shameless bastard!" He hissed under his breath.
Suddenly, Andreas' eyes, same grey as his, locked on him from across the divide of the auditorium. . .and held. Then, his smile broadened as he pulled up his hand in a slight wave.
Lorenzo rewarded him with a chiling glare that screamed don't-act-like-you-know-me and tore his eyes away from him.
Just then, Ashley glided onto the stage, causing the audience to burst into a loud cheer.
The woman was built like a goddess, looking absolutely stunning in that lavish ball gown. Just stunning as her voice was when she proceeded with her welcome speech.
Lorenzo couldn't stop his lips from stretching. He was going to make this woman his, no matter the cost or consequence.
Another applause shook the hall as Ashley spoke her final words. She gave an elegant bow and then invited the Kapellmeister onto the stage.
In no time, the auditorium was filled with soothing classical music. And that was when his problems began.
Lorenzo couldn't stay focused. His eyes continuously drifted off the stage and began to roam all over the place.
He'd never been to an Opera House before. It'd never even crossed his mind. Not once. This genre of music wasn't his thing. He was more of a pop or rock n' roll kinda guy. This, right here, was considered a lullaby in his book.
Stifling a yawn, Lorenzo shifted restlessly in his seat. He could already feel the haze of sleep taking control of his vision.
He blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Forcing himself to keep awake but the room was already swirling and dancing before him.
He kicked himself. "Don't sleep, Lorenzo. Stay the fuck awake."
Once again, he scanned the hall as if doing that would keep him awake.
His eyes moved from one face to another, expecting someone to be snoring off somewhere in their seat, but everyone seemed to be giving the performers their rapt attention.
Are these people even human? How could they possibly sit through this hypnotic music?
He shook his head, a futile attempt to clear the fog of slumber encroaching on his mind.
"Let's focus on staying awake." But it was difficult. The more he fought the soothing music, the more it lured him to SnoozeVille.
Slowly and slowly and slowly. . .
"Mr. Staniforth?" Walton's voice came through in a whisper. "Mr. Staniforth!"
Lorenzo's eyes snapped open, and he straightened in his seat. "Yeah. . . Yeah?!"
Oh, that was close. He nearly fell asleep and missed the whole thing.
He cleared his throat before asking drowsily, "What is it, Walton?"
Walton stared at him suspiciously, his hands forming an X over his chest as if he were protecting himself from Lorenzo. "Uh. . . The concert is over. You may want to give Miss. O'Connell the flowers."
Lorenzo's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What do you mean the concert is over?!" He exclaimed. "I just closed my eyes a second ago?"
Walton's brows slammed together. "You've been sleeping for over three hours, Mr. Staniforth," he said flatly. "Three hours and forty-five minutes to be exact."
"What?" Lorenzo gaped at him. "Why didn't you wake me?!"
Walton let his hands drop from his chest now he was certain he was out of danger.
"I tried. But you almost beat me to death as you yelled, 'Wake me only when this torture is over, Walton!' Those were your exact words."
"Jesus Christ!" Lorenzo was mortified. He cringed so hard that the goosebumps covering his skin threatened to pop one after the other.
Glancing around, he noticed that the auditorium was nearly empty as the attendees made a beeline for the exit.
He took in a deep breath, mentally shaking off the embarrassment before returning his gaze to Walton. "Let's find Ashley. Now!"
Lorenzo found Ashley later in her dressing room, but she didn't seem too happy to see him. Still, he wore his most charming smile and handed her the bouquet. "Congratulations on your grand opening, Ashley."
Without a word, Ashley took the flowers from him. A subtle smile worked its way across her lips before she pulled him in for a kiss.
Lorenzo smiled inwardly. Wow, he still got it. He didn't even have to do much to gain her forgiveness. He'd been a bit scared that he might've lost his touch.
Indeed, no woman could resist his charm.
His ego-inflating moment was short-lived when he felt Ashley's teeth sink into his lower lip. Hard.
"Ouch!" He flinched backwards, his fingers stroking his throbbing lip. "What was that for?"
"Screw yourself, Scumbag!" Was Ashley's only response before she dumped the flower in a nearby trash can?
"Ashley. . ."
The door suddenly burst open, cutting him off. And there, standing in the doorway, was Andreas bearing a bouquet of his own.
"Uh. . ." His eyes travelled from one to the other. "Am I interrupting?"
Lorenzo's face crumpled. DAMN BASTARD! YES, YOU ARE!
"Andreas!" Ashley's face lit up. Before he knew it, she roughly shoved him to the side and rushed to meet Andreas. Her arms fastened around his neck while she made a huge point of rubbing her boobs against him. "I'm so glad you came."
Lorenzo nearly exploded where he stood. Especially when he noticed the satisfied grin on his brother's face.
UGHHHHHHHHHH!!!
* * * *
"I had her! She was mine! She was all mine!"
Lorenzo was fuming in the backseat of his car while Walton drove him home. He couldn't even bear to stay for the reception. Not when he was boiling with rage.
"This is. . . this is all that damn, creepy blonde's fault," he snarled, punching the seat next to him. "She ruined everything! She ruined all my plans. I'll never forgive her."
He darted his eyes to the rearview mirror, meeting Walton's gaze. "Did you run a background check on her?"
Walton nodded. "Yes. However, something isn't right about her. She's like a ghost."
"A ghost?"
"Yes. I combed through every database, every government record, every corner of the internet, but I couldn't find anything on her. No name, no social security number, not even a social media handle. It's almost like she doesn't even exist."
"How is that even possible?" Lorenzo gave it a thought, just for a moment, before flaming up again. "Well, I don't care! Do whatever has to be done to but make sure she rots in jail!"
"Uh. . . About that. . ."
"What?"
"I received news from the police station that she has been released."
"On what grounds?"
"Lack of evidence, they say."
"Who gave them the authority to release that creep without my permission?" Lorenzo snapped, his voice vibrating with anger. "And what exactly do they mean by 'lack of evidence'? What happened to the CCTV footage we sent?"
"Apparently, it wasn't enough evidence to keep her detained. In their words, the footage made no sense."
Lorenzo exhaled in disbelief. "The footage made no sense? Okay, that is it! Contact the Commissioner General. Make sure those incompetent fools lose their freaking jobs tonight!"
"Yes, sir."
"And make sure you find that woman!"
"Yes, sir!"
As soon as the car came to a stop at Lorenzo's skyward kingdom, he burst out of the back seat like a raging hurricane while Walton drove off to the packing ground.
Blinded by rage, he stormed towards the entrance, but stopped in mid-stride when his eyes spotted the last person he'd least expected to dare return to his residence.
It was creepy Blonde from the darkest corner of PervTown.
"What in the depths of hell are you doing here, you fucking sleazeball?"