𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄|| 18+ ✔️

9

L O R E N Z O

Three months had dragged by like a never-ending nightmare since I last saw or heard from Azzurra. That damned mental hospital refused to share any information about her progress, leaving me in a constant state of frustration. I blamed Camilla, and the resentment had grown so deep that I refused to speak to her anymore, even though Mason tried to reason with me.

Today, just like any other day, Mason walked into my office. He started to say something, but I cut him off with a stern glare, ready to unleash my anger. He raised his hands in a placating manner.

"No, Lorenzo, it's not about Camilla this time. It's about Azzurra. Do you have any news?" Mason's voice carried a mixture of concern and frustration.

I leaned back in my chair, my jaw clenched. "Nothing. They won't tell me a damn thing about her. It's like she vanished off the face of the Earth."

Mason sighed, his expression mirroring my frustration. "We can't keep going on like this. You need to find a way to get information, maybe someone on the inside who can help."

I scoffed, running a hand through my hair. "I've tried, Mason. They've got everything locked down tight. I can't even get a damn phone call through to her."

He leaned against the edge of my desk. "You know Camilla regrets what happened. She's genuinely sorry. Blaming her won't help Azzurra."

I shot him a look, my anger boiling beneath the surface. "I don't want apologies; I want Azzurra back. And if she's not okay, I swear to every saint, I'll tear that place apart."

Mason nodded, understanding the depth of my despair. "We'll find a way, Lorenzo. We always do."

As Mason left, the weight of the past three months bore down on me. Azzurra's absence echoed through the silent corridors of my mansion, haunting every room. I needed answers, and I needed them now.

The frustration and anxiety had reached a boiling point, and I couldn't take it any longer. Grabbing my phone, I dialed the number of the mental hospital, my impatience seeping through every keystroke. The ringing felt like an eternity, each tone mocking my desperation.

Finally, someone picked up. "Good afternoon, this is St. Lucia Mental Health Facility. How may I assist you?"

I held back a growl, my voice laced with urgency. "I need an update on Azzurra Rossi. It's been three months, and you people refuse to give me any information."

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost imagine the indifferent expression of the person handling the call. "I'm sorry, sir, but we can't disclose that information without proper authorization."

My patience snapped like a brittle twig. "I don't care about your damn protocols! I'm Lorenzo, the one who practically owns this city. You will tell me about Azzurra, or I swear I'll dismantle that facility brick by brick."

The voice on the other end remained unmoved. "I understand your concern, sir, but we cannot—"

I slammed the phone down, my rage vibrating through every fiber of my being. This wasn't working. The bureaucratic walls surrounding Azzurra were impenetrable. My mind raced, considering every possible avenue to get her back.