Chapter 30

Lorenzo left the studio with a strange weight in his chest. He knew perfectly well that Margaret was Amelia. He had discovered it weeks ago, through small details: the way she spoke about the designs, the words she used, and even the tone of her voice, though she tried to disguise it. Adrien had also confessed it to him. But he wasn't ready to confront her-not yet.

He leaned against the car parked in front of the building, looking up at the gray sky. "Why are you playing this game, Amelia? Why are you hiding who you are?" The thoughts tormented him, but he also knew it wasn't the time to demand answers. If the last few days had taught him anything, it was that patience could be his greatest ally.

As he drove back to the office, his mind kept replaying the conversation. Margaret-or Amelia-had been too cautious. Even though she had managed to maintain her composure, Lorenzo had noticed how her hands tensed and how she avoided looking directly at him when he mentioned his wife.

"What are you afraid of, Amelia? That I'll hate you? That I won't be able to forgive you? Or worse... that you won't be able to forgive me?"

When he reached his office, Lorenzo sank into his chair, staring at the envelope he carried with him. It was another letter he had written for Amelia, but he knew he couldn't send it yet. Not while she continued to deny who she was. "There's no point in sending words you already know, but one day, you'll have to listen to me."

Throughout the rest of the day, Lorenzo tried to focus on his meetings, but his mind kept returning to Margaret's face. He knew she was playing a role, and while he wanted to respect her space, it was becoming increasingly difficult to contain his emotions.

-Sir, Margaret sent over some new sketches -his assistant said, walking into the office-. She said she hoped they meet expectations.

Lorenzo took the documents without saying a word. Every line of those designs spoke of Amelia, of her talent, of her essence. "Even on paper, you can't hide who you are."

That night, as he reviewed the sketches in the solitude of his office, Lorenzo made a decision. If Amelia wanted to remain Margaret, he would let her-for now. But he couldn't let this game go on forever.

With each design he studied, with every stroke he analyzed, love and pain intertwined. He wanted to hold her, to shout at her, to ask for her forgiveness, and to demand answers. But for now, all he could do was wait for the right moment to confront her.

"I love you, Amelia," he thought as he closed his eyes for a moment. "And I'll do whatever it takes to recover what we lost."

The silence of the night enveloped him as he remained in his office, determined to wait as long as it took for Amelia to stop hiding.

Lorenzo had barely closed his eyes in his office, the sketches carefully stacked on one side of the desk, when the sound of his phone shattered the calm. He glanced at the screen, and the name that appeared made his jaw tighten.

Clarisse.

With a sigh of frustration, he answered the call.

-What do you need, Clarisse? -his tone was dry, enough to make it clear he wasn't in the mood for her usual schemes.

-Lorenzo, darling, why so harsh? I'm just calling to check on you. Your mother is worried about you. She doesn't know why you decided to return home after so long.

Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm.

-My mother knows perfectly well why I'm at my house, and so do you. Stop pretending to care. What do you really want?

Clarisse was silent for a moment before continuing with a tone that tried to sound innocent.

-Well, since you ask I've been reviewing some of Margaret's latest designs, and I feel they're not up to the company's standards. Perhaps you should reconsider if she's the right person to work with you.

The mention of Margaret made Lorenzo stand up, his brow furrowed, his heart pounding.

-What are you insinuating, Clarisse? -he asked, his voice cold and sharp.

-I'm just saying maybe you should look for someone more competent. Someone who truly takes their work seriously.

Lorenzo clenched his fists. He knew perfectly well that Clarisse was trying to manipulate him. This kind of comment wasn't new, but now, knowing who Margaret truly was, it was intolerable.

-Listen to me carefully, Clarisse -he said firmly-. Margaret is the best designer this company has ever worked with, and I won't allow you or anyone else to question her talent. If you have a problem with her work, you should tell me directly instead of making cowardly insinuations.

-Don't be like that, Lorenzo -Clarisse replied with a nervous laugh-. I'm only trying to help. You know I've always looked out for the company's interests.

-The only thing you've done is meddle where you don't belong -Lorenzo responded, feeling his patience wearing thin-. And let me warn you, Clarisse: stay out of Margaret's work. This isn't a game.

Before Clarisse could respond, Lorenzo hung up abruptly. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

"I won't let anyone destroy what I'm trying to rebuild. Not this time."

He walked over to the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. The city below was still lit, its lights flickering like fallen stars, oblivious to the chaos consuming him.

The streets, bustling with movement and life, stood in stark contrast to the emptiness he felt inside. It was a cruel reminder of how the world moved on, indifferent to his internal struggle.

Resting a hand on the window frame, he closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. The heavy air of his office felt suffocating, but not as much as the thoughts pounding in his mind. Clarisse's words echoed, laced with venom, and his frustration grew.

It wasn't just Clarisse. It was everything-his mother, his family, his own choices. He had let the past chain him, allowed mistakes to pile up, forming a wall that separated him from what truly mattered. But now, that wall was starting to crack, and behind it was Amelia, with her laughter, her gaze-everything he had lost because of his inability to protect what he loved.

Lorenzo knew he couldn't let the past control his present anymore. The lies, the manipulations, the wounded pride-it all had to stay behind. It was time to make firm decisions, to face the truth, no matter how painful it was.

He looked at his reflection in the glass. He looked older, more tired, but in the depths of his eyes, there was still a spark of determination. "Amelia deserves more. I can be more."

One thing was certain: he wouldn't let anyone else stand between him and Amelia. Even if the memories hurt, even if the road to her was full of obstacles, he would do whatever it took to show her he was willing to fight for what they had lost.