Game of Love and Deception: The Billionaire's Ex Wife
Chapter 92: Just one

Chapter 92: Just one

Ashley’s heart pounded as she forced herself out of his grip and turned to face him. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my car? You scared the shit out of me!"

With a regretful gaze, he stepped down and slipped into the passenger seat, turning to face her.

"I miss you, Ashley. That’s why I’m here. I tried to stay away, to give you some space, but..." He chuckled—a low, humorless sound. "I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me if I came straight to your office. Luckily, your car wasn’t locked," he added with a shrug.

Ashley mentally cursed herself. She’d driven to the office that morning, too lost in thought of Vanessa. No wonder she forgot to lock the car. But damn it, she missed him too. She hadn’t expected to—at least not this soon, or this much. But there was no denying it anymore.

"You’ve been crying a lot," Lorenzo stated, studying her puffy eyes. "And you look like you’re carrying the weight of the world. I know you probably want to keep avoiding me, but I’m not leaving you again."

She tried to ignore the guilt rising in her chest. After what happened between them at his house, she’d needed space to figure out her feelings. And even though she’d missed him, she hadn’t gone looking for him. But now that he was here, part of her didn’t want him to leave again.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Kidnap me?"

His hands cupped her face, thumbs gently brushing away the tears. His touch was warm, gentle—so gentle it raised goosebumps along her skin, made her want him in ways she hadn’t dared to admit. Until now.

"I don’t mind kidnapping you a thousand times over if that’s what it takes to care of you, princess."

Back with the nicknames? Ashley almost smiled. Almost.

He tilted her chin with a finger, their gazes locking. The softness in his eyes made her heart beat several times in her chest.

"I’m taking you to my house, even though I know it’s probably the last place you want to be right now," he said softly, his gaze silently pleading with her not to refuse.

Ashley didn’t think that was true anymore.

"I want you to eat something. Get some sleep. Then we’ll talk—about everything that’s going on... and what I’m onto, okay?"

What he’s onto? Her eyes narrowed curiously.

But he shook his head. "You’ll do everything I just said if you want to hear it."

Her lip pushed out in a cute pout, and Lorenzo nearly traced it with his fingers—but stopped himself. He didn’t want her thinking he was here just to sleep with her.

Ashley gave a slow nod, and they switched seats so he could drive.

Lorenzo pulled into his compound, the silence between them resting lightly in the air. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her puffy eyes still pierced something deep inside him.

He took her upstairs. With Renee away, the house felt emptier than usual—quiet, echoing, a space that mirrored Ashley’s mood.

Downstairs again, he busied himself preparing a simple meal. Something quick, and warm.

His thoughts raced as he moved around the kitchen, thinking about the disturbing information Nicolas had uncovered. Meanwhile, Carl was doing his part—tracking down the suspect. But this time, he didn’t come cheap. He wanted a big cut of Lorenzo’s next real estate deal, knowing he owned Grey Group, plus three full months of unlimited access to Vortex.

He knew exactly what that meant—beautiful women constantly lining up for a spot in Carl’s bed. That man lived for it. Take women away from Carl, and he’d probably drop dead. He shook his head, half amused.

They’d both always had women throwing themselves at them. But while Carl enjoyed every second, Lorenzo barely gave them a second glance—except on rare occasions.

His heart had always belonged to one woman. Just one. And the one time he’d tried giving it to someone else, it ended badly. Left him broken. Nearly ruined.

When he went back to the room, Ashley was curled up at the edge of the bed, her legs pulled tightly around her like she was trying to disappear. She looked completely lost, and something inside him cracked.

He placed the tray down and gently tried to get her to eat. She barely responded, so he ended up spoon-feeding her.

She looked pale. Worn out. Broken. He hated himself for not finding her sooner. He’d thought she needed space after their last encounter—but now, he was angry with himself for staying away.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, but he didn’t know if she’d want that. Christian might be out of her life, but the damage he caused was still there. Still fresh.

"Do you need water?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

He brought the glass to her lips, but she stopped him with a quiet voice. "My hands still work fine."

It was the first time she’d spoken since they arrived. He missed hearing her voice. He smiled and handed it to her.

He was reminded of the times he looked after Genevieve when she was sick. He did everything for her—except bathe her. She’d always been too shy, said it made her feel like a baby. Which she was, back then, barely a teen. She was grown now, but even if the need came again, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. She was his only sibling, and he loved her way too much.

After finishing her food, Ashley turned to him with a soft, innocent stare.

"Thank you for bringing me here. And for the food. I really needed it."

"You’re welcome," Lorenzo replied, his voice catching for a moment.

Being near her always left him in awe. And he couldn’t even blame himself—she redefined what beauty meant. With her porcelain skin, diamond eyes, and long, flowing raven hair, she was completely breathtaking. There were times he just wanted to sit and stare at her all day. But that would be creepy. Still, looking at her felt better than a thousand words.

They got lost in each other’s gaze, the space around them softening, blurring—like nothing else existed.

Before the silence stretched too far, Lorenzo asked, "Do you want to sleep now, or change into something more comfortable?"

Her purple dress hugged her frame little too tightly, and the exhaustion in her eyes made it clear that she probably hadn’t slept since their last meeting, three days ago.

"You want your sister to catch me wearing her dress again?" Ashley asked, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"She didn’t mind the last time," Lorenzo replied with a casual shrug. "But if you’re worried, I can lend you one of mine," he offered, leaving out the part about buying her clothes the day she left. Truth was, he wanted to see her in his shirt again.

Ashley frowned slightly. "I’m not scared of her. I just don’t like using her things without asking."

He smiled, appreciating the small gesture of respect. "My shirt it is, then," he said, rising from the bed.

Her eyes narrowed. "So you manipulated me into coming here, and now you want me wearing your clothes. What else are you planning?"

"I didn’t manipulate you. We came in your car," Lorenzo reminded her.

"I was hurting," she said softly. "I didn’t know what I was thinking." She got out of the bed and walked toward the bathroom.

"You’re so stubborn," Lorenzo called after her.

"I bet you like that," she shot back, continuing to the bathroom.

"Why would I?" he asked, honestly curious.

When she returned, her face was damp, and as she passed him, her fingers brushed lightly against his chest. Her gaze met his—lingering, a little intense, with a flicker of something unreadable.

"Because nine years ago, you said it fascinated you." She looked straight into his eyes.

And in that moment, Lorenzo forgot how to breathe.

Until she broke the silence. "So... where’s the shirt?"

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