The plan was simple a quiet afternoon shopping, a little escape from the suffocating presence of him. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But as you walked down the busy street, the weight of a gaze pressing into your back made your skin prickle. At first, you dismissed it. A coincidence. A trick of your mind. But then the car a sleek black vehicle with tinted windows kept appearing. Parked across the street. Idling at the corner. Moving when you moved. Your hands trembled as you dialed the only number that came to mind. He picked up on the first ring. “Where are you?” His voice was calm. Too calm. Like he already knew. Your breath hitched. “I...I think someone’s following me.” A pause. Then, the sound of an engine revving. He was already on the move. “Listen to me,” Lorenzo said, his tone steady, low. “Keep walking. Stay visible. I’m tracking the car. I’ll be there soon.” Then unexpectedly he asked, “What dress were you going to buy?” You blinked. “What?” “The dress,” he repeated, as if discussing the weather. “Tight, right? Something that hugs your curves just right?” Your pulse thundered. “Lorenzo, this isn’t..” “I know you like that kind,” he murmured. “And I know I like seeing you in them. That black one you wore to the gala? Darling, I still haven’t recovered from that.” A shiver ran down your spine. His voice was doing something dangerous pulling your mind away from the fear, grounding you. And it was working. In less than five minutes, Big black cars stopped in turn on the road, protecting, blocking the view of those bastards who even dared to think about something like that. Two men directed you to Lorenzo's car. And after that, he would never let her go out without his people. It was the first time she escaped, and he let her escape, even though he knew. After that, he would make sure that no worthless bastard would be able to even think about getting closer to his wife.