Chapter 12
____________________
ENZO
I’m hiding in that same dark closet. My small body is huddled between fur coats and scarfs that drape down from their hangers like snakes, tickling my neck.
Glancing down, I find my knees all scabbed up and bruised from falling too many times whilst playing football. There’s no muscle to my legs anymore, just skin and bones, making me realize I’m no longer a 26-year-old man, but that scared nine-year-old boy again who learnt too early what death truly means.
I try to wake up but it’s useless. My eyes remain screwed shut, whilst I expel heavy breaths in another attempt to escape the past, but like always, it never works .
Instead I’m stuck, forced to endure all the pain again.
Through the crack in the wardrobe, I can make out the bloody figure lying across the floor and the haunting face above him that smiles sadistically as he curls his hand into a fist and smashes it down again and again.
It’s not until my fingers shove at the wood that I can get a better look. I swallow a gasp, finding my own father the victim of such brutality. The same man I witnessed win a fight with his hands tied beneath his back, the same man who would tuck me in each night without fail.
He’s a weakened version of himself now.
Face barely recognizable, all puffy and bruised, his eye bulging from the socket.
His attempts to fight back are futile. The man I don’t recognize slams his foot on my father’s already mangled leg. I hear a snap and then a broken scream that rips through my heart.
I slam my hands against my ears to try and block it out.
“Stop please—” I watch my father beg for his own life, struggling to breathe on his own.
The man just smiles, snapping his fingers and suddenly my Ma is shoved forward by a figure dressed in all black. There’s a nasty cut sliced down her cheek but she’s oblivious to the pain, focused entirely on her defeated husband, lying practically dead on the floor.
“"Cosa stai facendo? La camorra non si fermerà finché non sarai morto se lo fai". What are you doing? The Camorra won't rest until you're dead if you do this. She cries.
Gripping her chin, he wrenches her mouth open and spits into it. My stomach churns. “Conto su questo, dolce angelica.” I'm counting on that, sweet Angelica.
My father groans on the floor, attempting to sit up but the dark figure kicks him back down. “Leave her.” He manages to choke out, blood spilling from his mouth.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you? But you never listened when I asked the same of you. Instead, you stole her for yourself and got her pregnant with your spawn so she couldn’t come back to me, cane sporco.” Filthy dog.
“No,” My Ma cries, gripping onto the man’s shirt. “I loved him, I’m sorry I hurt you but I —” His hand flies out, smacking her in the face. She falls to the ground, barely able to collect herself before he’s dragging her back up.
“Angelica don’t think you won’t pay for your betrayal either. In fact…” He turns her to my father, slipping his hand beneath her dress. “I was going to kill him first and then fuck you on his dead body, but I think I want to savor the look in his eyes as I defile his precious whore. ”
Tears slip from her eyes as he reaches for his belt. My father groans in protest, attempting to reach her but always failing.
Her head turns away and she presses her lips together as if trying to suppress a cry. I slip backwards onto my hands, but sounds are barely audible beneath the man’s heavy grunts.
But she hears it.
Those fierce eyes snap open to meet mine. She holds her breath, forcing a shaky smile that doesn’t look as real as the ones she usually wears.
Dream, she mouths.
Then she closes her eyes as if accepting her fate.
All I want to do is help her. But I’m scared and my mind is compelled by her authority to listen.
Instead, I pull a fur coat down from its hanger and lay it on the hard floor, letting my body sink on top. The familiar scent of oranges floods my senses, creating the illusion of being wrapped in her arms.
Eventually my eyes flutter shut and I fall victim to the throes of a dream, far away from my mother’s tears and my father’s screams.
** *
I shoot up, breathing hard as adrenaline coursing through my veins in a frenzy. I fist the damp sheets, soaked with sweat that covers my body in a thick sheen. “Fuck.” I murmur, brushing a hand through my wet hair and groaning as I glance at the clock.
I’m supposed to be up in two hours to meet Dom at the new office sites for the expansion.
Reaching for my phone, I scroll through the endless emails and messages, knowing there’s no way I’ll be able to get to sleep again. The weather is gloomy outside, sparse clouds floating amiss the break of dawn that is barely rising.
My chest sinks when I realize that there’s no message from the one person I’ve been hoping to hear from. It’s been a week since our last phone call and since then, nothing. I hoped dealing with that Diaz bastard would at least be worthy of another sit down or at least make her realize how serious I am about this proposal.
Sighing, I toss my phone aside and reach up to stretch my tired body. A restlessness paves its way through my muscles and I throw back the covers, knowing a run will be the only thing to clear my head. I quickly throw on some shorts and a gym top, strapping my Apple watch around my wrist when my phone begins to buzz, coming alive with a spree of texts.
I’m prepared to discuss the terms of the offer. Meet me at Avalon hotel, 2pm tomorrow afternoon .
I see Anastasia’s name on the screen and fingers itch to reply.
Bring your lawyer. I want to do this the right way.
The only reason she’s considering this marriage is because it's a business proposal. Drafting a contract to sign will make it feel a lot more like that, not to mention she’ll be legally tied to me in case she gets cold feet.
A smile grows on my face, knowing that by tomorrow night, Anastasia Romano will be mine in every way possible.
***
“You’re late.” She seethes, storming towards us with fire burning in those cerulean orbs.
My eyes roam up and down her body, taking in the blue dress that's molded to her subtle curves. Bright red stilettos crack along the pavement as she brazenly stops before me, cocking her hip to one side and pressing those full lips together as she looks Dom over.
“Who the hell is that? Your lawyer?” Her gaze scrutinizes over Dom’s casual attire, pausing on the disgustingly bright trainers peeking out beneath his pants .
Strangely I feel a wave of nausea in my stomach, fueled by jealousy in wanting that heated wrath on me instead of him. It’s not the hate I desire but the passion that emotes her gaze.
“He’s the guard dog who refuses to leave my side. I’ll be acting as my own lawyer.” Dom scoffs but stands tall besides me. I wanted to do this alone but my second in command decided I’ve gone insane and always require a pair of eyes on me.
If he persists, I might just have to ship his ass back to Italy.
I glance back at Dom and my lips tilt up, watching him stare down a woman with a look so fierce that most men would piss themselves at the sight of. Or maybe I’ll keep him around for a while.
“Keep him on a short leash.” She whips her sleek onyx hair in our direction, giving us her back as she strides into the hotel.
Sighing I follow her in, holding back a laugh as Dom wipes his shoes on the welcome mat though I don’t blame him. The Avalon is one of the most prestigious hotels in New York and of course, the Romano’s have been investors in the hotel chain for decades now, hosting charity events, galas and auctions worth millions.
Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, crystals trickling down from them to flare light across the room. The restaurant is empty, apart from a few waiters, which suits me well .
I doubt this meeting will be a peaceful one.
Anastasia’s hips sway slightly as she walks ahead of us and I can’t help but dip my gaze down. Her small waist flares out at the hips, blossoming into that perfect round ass. I can still remember how soft her skin would feel beneath my palm as I would fuck her from behind or caress her gently whilst she fell asleep in my arms.
That wicked gaze snaps towards me and I lift my head up. She narrows her eyes, probably biting her tongue before gesturing to the table set up for us. “Since you’ve already met my lawyer, I don’t see the need for further introductions.”
Of course I knew Jaslyn Singh was still in Anastasia’s life. She would have been a fool to have lost that friendship so seeing her now shouldn’t be a surprise and yet still, I have to blink a few times before forcing a smile to my face.
Stretching my hand across the table, Jas scoffs at the gestures and turns her head away.
Okay, I probably deserved that.
I considered Jas a friend once but just like I lost Anastasia in the lie, I suppose I also lost one of the only true friends I’ve ever had.
Anastasia smiles at her best friend, taking the seat beside her. I wait for Dom before sitting opposite them, frowning at the Jasmine tea filling up the tiny cups in front of us .
Dom leans in. “What, is there no whiskey on the menu?” He lowers his nose to the cup and inhales the tea, coughing hard.
“I suppose he really is a dog.” Anastasia remarks, causing both girls to laugh.
Trying to avoid the fight brewing, I drink some of the tea and grimace. Fuck that’s disgusting.
“Just because I prefer orange Nike trainers to a thousand-dollar Italian leather shoes doesn’t make me a dog.” He bites back.
“Actually, it’s the stench that makes you a dog.”
“Why don’t we just focus on the topic at hand?” I interject and to my surprise, Jas agrees with me, digging some files out of her bag.
“Don’t you need a lawyer?” Anastasia snaps at me.
I smile. God she’s going to love this . “I am a lawyer, tesoro. Certified three years ago in Italy.”
She narrows her gaze. “So, you’re a lawyer and a criminal?”
“You’re a businesswoman and a criminal?” I retort, grinning as she scoffs and leans back into her chair. I suppose I won that one.
Dom taps Jas's ankle with his leg, a stupid smile plastered onto his face. “What you’d say we get out of here and leave these two to sort out their own shit? ”
Seriously, he’s finally going to leave me alone and it’s for pussy?
Rolling her eyes, Jas throws a thick wad of paper on the table. “In your dreams lover boy.” Then she turns to me. “Here is a basic contractual agreement for the marriage, including all the assets and properties in my client’s name and what she's willing to share with you. If you do sign this, it won’t be in full effect until the marriage license is filed and my client can opt out of the contract if she desires to do so.”
I glance at the pages. “No.”
Anastasia straightens in her seat whilst Jas frowns. “It’s more than fair, Enzo.” She practically spits out my name, like trying to remind me of how I lied. Trust me, I’ll never forget.
Reaching into my pocket for a pen, I quickly scan over Anastasia’s assets and make my adjustments. I slide it back over to them, waiting as they read over my revisions. My soon to be fiancée pokes her tongue into her cheek, anger brewing in those stormy blue eyes. “What the hell are you trying to pull?”
“Nothing. I don't want fifty percent of your stocks or keys to the villa you own in Athens. All I want is you and an equal share of the company, as you’ll have of mine.”
She swallows hard. “And what about your assets?”
I shrug. “You can have it all except for the house in Sicily and the orange plantation. ”
Dom looks at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am, but I know I’ll go insane without this woman belonging to me.
“Probably.” I smile, sipping on the sweet tea. Huh, weirdly refreshing.
Anastasia scoffs, setting her elbows on the table as she stares down at me. I match her gaze, amusement flickering in my eyes at the way she’s angry because I’m giving her what she wants and more. “A prenup.”
“No. I don’t believe in divorce. Marriage is for life and the moment you sign your name, you’re mine, so you better think hard before you put pen to paper.”
“Shouldn’t you be trying to convince me to say yes? Pushing me to sign?”
I shake my head. “All I want is for you to understand what you’re signing. I don’t want any bullshit about me trapping you into this. You understand the terms and you sign it. It’s simple.”
“What if you want to divorce me?”
The fact she believes that would ever be an option is almost laughable. Then I realize how much work I’ll have to put in to show her otherwise. “How about this as a stipulation, we live together for a year after getting married and if you want to move out then that’s fine. We can live separately, even in different countries for that matter, but you’ll still carry my last name and my ring on your finger. ”
“Hyphenated surnames.” She demands but from the look in her eyes I know she’s testing me. Romano-Mancini. I almost wince at the thought of our children carrying that name but if it makes her mine…
“Deal.” Offering her my hand, I watch that beautiful mind spiral into a frenzy of overthinking. “It’s just a handshake.” I reassure and she sighs, finally meeting my eyes before reaching her hand outward. My fingers wrap around hers, our palms flush against each other’s and she gasps quietly, glancing up in shock as she feels that small electric shock brush along our nerves. I swallow hard, staring into those ocean eyes that look so gentle when she’s not scowling at me.
“So, I’m guessing I’ll be drawing up a new contract then?” Jas says, abruptly bursting our bubble. Anastasia blinks a few times before dropping my hand, mortification washing over her as though she’s just processing what’s happened.
Clearing my throat, I slide the revised papers back over to her. “Email me and I’ll sign them.”
“Then we’re done here.” Anastasia states robotically, slipping back into the mask she puts on for business. One step forward, ten steps back.
I catch her wrist before she can stand up and leave. “We have private matters to discuss. ”
She glares at me until I drop it. “What can’t be said in front of our friends?”
Glancing between Jas and Dom, I smirk. “Trust me, you don’t want them here for this.” I can tell her curiosity is battling the hate she’s spawned for me. I lean in closer, inhaling the rich scent of Chanel that she’s been wearing since the first time I met her. “It’s about our marital duties.”
Her eyes grow wide, a faint blush creeping along her cheeks as she looks at Jas. “I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t—”
“I’m not the big bad wolf Jas, and besides, I think Anastasia’s right hook has proved she can defend herself pretty well.”
“You know what you entitled asshole—”
“Babe,” Dom grabs her hand, oblivious to the disgust in her eyes. “They’re big kids, they can handle themselves so in the meantime why don’t the two of us go grab a couple of margaritas, kick back and see what happens?”
“In your dreams.” She scoffs, grabbing her bag and storming out. Strangely, being rejected doesn’t deter my best friend. Instead, he grins and stuffs a couple of macaroons in his mouth before chasing after her .
“He’s so weird.” Anastasia murmurs. I don’t deny it but he’s also a good friend because now I’m alone with my soon to be fiancée.
“So, where should we start?”
“You think I’m going to discuss this here? There are ears everywhere, Enzo.”
I throw my napkin on the table and push back my chair. “Fine, follow me.” Straightening the lapel of my jacket, I offer her my hand again.
Like expected she ignores it, walking ahead of me whilst I hang back to watch that ass sway. She falters in her steps, probably feeling the burn of my gaze against her skin and looks back. “I’m not going to wait all day then.” I smile as I catch a glimpse of that beautiful scowl, freshly plucked from my dreams.