SHOW ME HOW

Chapter 7

Lorenzo's POV

"Who the hell is Eli?" I muttered under my breath, slamming the passenger door shut behind me. Irritation pulsed through me, and I couldn't begin to understand why that conversation had rattled me so badly.

Luis, my cousin and designated driver, threw a puzzled glance my way. "Who?"

"Forget it," I snapped, not in the mood to unpack the emotional mess brewing in my head.

"Whatever you say," he replied, brushing it off as he returned his focus to the road.

Moments later, the car's Bluetooth lit up with an incoming call. I spotted the name on the display: my dad.

"Uncle Juan?" Luis answered, his tone shifting into something more formal, laced with respect.

"What's taking you so long?" my dad grumbled. Luis and I exchanged a quick, knowing look—he was clearly in one of his moods.

"We're on our way to your place now," Luis replied.

"Did you finish the rounds like I asked?"

"Yeah, we should be there in ten to make the drop."

There was a pause. "Where's your cousin?" he asked, meaning me.

We hadn't spoken since the night I got stabbed. Or rather—he hadn't spoken to me.

"He's in the car with me," Luis replied—because there's no point lying to the devil.

"Mhmm. Tell him to come to my office when you get here. Antonio's waiting in the basement to tally up. Don't waste time."

"On it," Luis said, then ended the call.

"Oof, you're still knee-deep in it," he said with a grin. "Your dad sure knows how to hold a grudge."

"Don't remind me," I muttered, exhaling as I rubbed the sharp ache in my forehead that had been tormenting me ever since hearing Devin's call with that Eli guy.

Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from Lolla: are coming over tonight?
I didn't bother replying. Honestly, I'm glad we don't go to the same school—I already see enough of her. We're not even a couple, and she acts like we're glued at the hip.

When we got home, I headed straight through the front door, determined to get this over with.

"Good luck," Luis called after me as he and the rest of the crew peeled off toward the basement.

"Yeah, thanks," I muttered.

I gave a single knock on my dad's office door, and it was answered by our longtime family fixer and house manager. He greeted me with a faint smile, dressed sharp as ever in a grey suit, slicked-back hair, and polished black shoes. The guy has been part of our lives for as long as I can remember—handling just about everything tied to our household's private affairs and reputation.

"Come in, Mr. De Soto," he said, holding the door open for me before walking off without another word.

"It's Lorenzo, Mano. My name is Lorenzo," I called after him, but he didn't even glance back.

"Sit down—you're already wasting my time," my dad snapped, the sharpness in his voice making it painfully clear that my reckoning wasn't over.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping a single finger against the desk with an edge of impatience, his stare burning through me. I dropped into the chair across from him, suddenly fascinated by a random spot on the corner of his desk.

"Start talking," he growled. "Everything that happened the other night—every detail. Leave nothing out."

I cleared my throat, a chill creeping down my spine as my dad's piercing glare made my skin prickle. He could be the most devoted father when you're in his good books—but cross him, break his rules, and he becomes the kind of man no one dares to face. And I knew I'd messed up.