Touch Not My Possession

Lorenzo's POV

My blood boiled as I stepped away from the crowd, the rage bubbling just beneath the surface. The world around me blurred, and all I could see was red. I wanted to rip Jonathan Alonzo's hands off. How dare he lay a finger on what was mine? The nerve. He thought he could step into my world, and touch what did not belong to him. My hands balled into fists, the muscles in my arms tense as I fought to control the fury welling up inside me. I couldn't let it slide. Not this time.

Everything about Jonathan disgusted me, his smug demeanor, his false confidence, the way he thought he could manipulate and control. He didn't understand the rules of the game, but I did. No one touches what's mine. And Jonathan had crossed the line. He had no idea who he was dealing with.

My mind raced, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I had to keep it together. I couldn't let this cloud my judgment. I was in control, always. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt, forcing my breath to steady, though the weight of my anger threatened to explode.

Daisy stood there, her wide eyes filled with confusion, her fragile expression betraying a fear she didn't understand. She didn't know what kind of world she had just entered. The world I had built was ruthless. It didn't care about feelings. It didn't care about right or wrong. It was all about power, control, and consequences. And Jonathan had made a grave mistake. He thought he could just walk in and take what was mine.

I could see the guilt and fear in Daisy's eyes, but it didn't matter. Not right now. She didn't know the weight of the world she was bought into. The rules were different here.

We were in the car now, the door slamming shut with a force that made the car rattle. My fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I fought to regain control. The silence in the car was deafening. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog. I could feel Daisy's unease, the way she kept glancing at me, but I couldn't look at her. Not now. Not when my mind was consumed with thoughts of Jonathan.

"Get a driver," I growled, the words barely leaving my throat. My voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in it. I needed distance. I needed time.

Luca, my right-hand man, didn't hesitate. He knew me too well. Without a word, he made the call. Minutes later, the sleek black car appeared in the distance, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

The drive to my house was a blur. I was too focused on the storm raging inside me. Every turn, every stoplight, only served to heighten my impatience. Daisy sat beside me, silent, her nervousness radiating off her in waves. I could feel her fear, but I didn't have the energy to deal with her. She was in this now, whether she realized it or not.

When we arrived at the house, I didn't wait for anyone to follow. I stormed out of the car, my boots echoing on the cold pavement as I made my way to the entrance. The door slammed shut behind me, the sound reverberating in the hallway. I needed space. I needed to think.

Once inside, I didn't even glance at Daisy. I locked the door behind me, hearing her faint knock as I walked further into the penthouse. She was safe for now, but she didn't know what was coming. She didn't know what I was about to do.

"Luca," I snapped, I want everything on Jonathan Alonzo. And I want it now. Find his whereabouts. I need three of our best men, two cars. Get it done. No delays."

Luca didn't ask questions. He knew I wasn't in the mood for anything less than efficiency. He was used to my urgency, my coldness. He didn't need to understand. He just needed to do.

It didn't take long for Luca to get the intel. As soon as he returned, his face was unreadable, but I could see the weight of the information he was about to deliver. It was time.

Jonathan was holed up in a penthouse, deep in the heart of the city. The information was clear: he was surrounded by distractions. Wealth, power, luxury. But it didn't matter. It wouldn't save him. I wasn't going to give him the time to hide behind his money, to hide behind his wealth. He was mine now. And I wasn't going to let him walk away.

Luca grabbed his kit, the familiar weight of the equipment a comforting reminder of the work ahead. He pulled out a sleek black-handled knife, nothing flashy, but deadly nonetheless. The blade was sharp, the perfect tool for close combat. It was clean. Efficient. Silent. Just the way we liked it. Luca was a master with knife. He moved with precision, with an economy of motion that I had come to respect over the years.

He was ready.

"Let's move," I said, my voice low but firm. No more wasting time. The night was ours, and we would see it through. There was no going back now.

The city streets blurred past as we drove. The hum of the tires on the asphalt was the only sound as I kept my focus on the mission ahead. It was a different kind of night. A night for justice. A night to remind the city who ruled it. No one crosses me. No one touches what's mine.

When we arrived at the building, I could feel the adrenaline surge. Jonathan was close now, within reach. The penthouse sat a few floors above, nestled among the other glittering skyscrapers, bathed in light, but that wouldn't save him. It didn't matter how high up he was. He was going to fall.

Luca and I were in sync as we moved. His men had already arrived, three of the best. They were shadows, slipping into the building with ease, moving like ghosts, leaving no trace behind. Their task was simple: get inside without making a sound. I didn't need to hear the details. I trusted Luca's men. They were professionals.

We were going in from the front.

The two security guards didn't see us coming. They didn't stand a chance. Luca and I moved with a deadly calm. The years of training, the countless jobs, all of it led to this moment. My body moved with practiced ease, a blur of motion as I advanced. I didn't hesitate. I didn't need to. The sound of suppressed pistols was a comfort, the silence deafening as the guards fell. Their bodies hit the floor with a soft thud, but neither man had a chance to react.

Luca was already on his feet, moving with his trademark speed and efficiency. The first guard dropped with a clean shot to the head, and before the second man could raise his weapon, Luca had already closed the distance. His knife sliced through the air in one fluid motion, finding its mark with deadly precision. The second guard crumpled to the floor without a sound.

It was done. The door was open now. The path was clear.

We moved inside. No words were needed. The three of Luca's men were already inside, fanning out, covering every angle. We were about to do what needed to be done. No more waiting. No more games.

The silence was deafening as I took the first step toward Jonathan. The rest of the world could wait.