Seven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Truth novel Chapter 70

Chapter 9 

Isabella touched her crimson cheek, staring at Lorenzo with dawning horror. The Wall Street than who once showered her with Cartier just struck her–all for Sophia 

“It’s been over for three years, Lorenzo’s voice cracked with desperation. “Sophia, I swear on everything 

I am.* 

“Get out.” My voice could’ve frozen hell “Both of you. Leave this sanctuary and never come back” 

The famous Visconti pallor turned ghostly. But Isabella, her Botox–frozen features contorting with raga, grabbed a chair from my consultation area and hurled it at me. Lorenzo and I barely dodged in time. 

“Die, you self–righteous bitch!” She lunged for a shelf of medicine viak. 

Years of martial arts training kicked in. One precise strike, and she collapsed, dutching herself 

“My apologies. These mountain roads make one’s footwork so… unpredictable. My smile was pure ice. 

“I’ll fucking kill you!” she shrieked. 

Something dark flickered in Lorenzo’s eyes. He seized her perfectly highlighted hair, his voice dropping to that whisper that once made Fortune 500 CEOs tremble. “Threaten her again, and I’ll destroy you so thoroughly, your own mother won’t recognize what’s left.” 

Isabella’s laugh turned maniacal. “How rich, Lorenzo. After all our delicious moments together, after every night of” 

The slap echoed like a gunshot. 

“Enough!” 

“Why?” Her voice turned venomous. “Scared she’ll remember how we christened every room in your penthouse? How you had to bite your lip while.” 

I watched their implosion with the detachment of a surgeon observing tissue decay. Isabella turned to 

me, enraged by my composure. 

“Drop the Mother Teresa act. You must be dying inside!” 

“Actually, I couldn’t care less. He’s your problem now – though that kick might’ve damaged your favorite 

toy.” 

Lorenzo staggered as if I’d gutted him. 

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Chapter 9 

I turned toward the door, done with this melodrama. 

“Lorenzo, I’m the only one who truly-” Isabella’s words dissolved into a primal scream. 

Blood bloomed across her Valentino dress where Lorenzo had driven a surgical scalpel. She crumpled, crimson pooling on my clinic floor. 

“You poisoned everything,” he snarled, transformed into something feral. “You made her hate me. I warned you what crossing this line would cost.” 

Isabella dragged herself backward, designer heels scrabbling against hardwood as Lorenzo advanced, scalpel dripping. 

Her screams reached me outside. Against every rational impulse, I went back. 

“Stop! For God’s sake, Lorenzo – you’ll spend your life in prison!” 

He turned, blood–spattered and broken. “Had to protect you. She threatened you.” 

When he dropped the weapon and reached for me, something ancient and buried made me stay. 

His forehead found my shoulder, exhausted. “One last time?”