Chapter 21
____________________
ENZO
“Ma, I don’t understand.” The whirring of a chainsaw bleeds through my ears as I grip the phone tighter.
“Yes, you do. I’m so sorry, Enzo. I never knew that it would lead to all of this—”
“Don’t.” I involuntarily snap. Regret causes me to pinch my eyes shut as I battle the anger that coils itself around my throat. “Just…I’ll speak to you later.”
Ending the call, I take a deep breath before launching my phone at the wall. The sound of the screen cracking does little to suppress the anger that twists itself through my body.
My mother. My own damn mother is the person I want to throttle with my bare hands and yet…I can’t. As much as she hurt me, I can’t ever hurt her back.
That damn chainsaw keeps whirring, the noise aggravating the violent thoughts racing through my head. Slamming my office door open, I storm down the hallway to find a worker humming absentmindedly as he works the chainsaw over some wood.
I slam my hand on the plank, splintering a crack through the plank. “Hey,” The worker drags his thick headphones to his neck and switches the saw off. “What the hell are you doing?”
I arch my brow, not knowing whether it’s stupidity or bravery fueling his words. My hand coils around his neck and I squeeze, feeling nothing as his eyes begin to bulge out of his skull. He’s light enough that I can lift him off the ground and watch him squirm like a rat attempting to reach the floor again.
“Do you know who I am?” He shakes his head, the headphones jostling loudly. Irritation spreads through me, sparking that violent desire to lash out and inflict as much pain as I feel inside my head. “So I suppose it’s just stupidity then?”
Squeezing a little harder, I reach for the chainsaw and switch it on again. allowing the buzz to fill the air. “I’m the one paying your fucking bills so if I say jump, you say how high.” He tries to speak but the exasperation turns his face purple. “It didn’t require a fucking answer. I want you to leave and tomorrow morning you’ll come back two hours before your shift starts to finish up the job. Got it?”
I recognize him now. The slacker that always comes in so late, his boss forces him to stay after hours to finish up the job.
Loosening my grip, he nods and I let him fall to the floor, watching as he splutters for air and scrambles back up to his feet. I glance at the chainsaw again and my hands itch for something to do. I grab the plank, holding the wood steady whilst I slide the saw across to cut it through.
My chest lightens and I reach for another plank.
Headphone boy scoffs, attempting to stare me down. “Uh dude, I thought that was my job.”
“I changed my mind. You’re fired.” I yell, grabbing another two blocks.
He’s still standing there, probably trying to process the words in his tiny brain
“You can’t do that!” My hands itch to pull out my gun and end the annoying irritation but I’m not in Sicily anymore. It’s a lot harder to get away with murder, especially when he probably still lives with his mother.
I turn off the chainsaw, turning it slowly in my grip. “Actually, I can. You were late for work for three days in a row. That’s why you were staying late, to finish the fucking job and that’s why I’m not relaxing in my office right now but instead, forced to deal with a loud mouthed drunk who doesn’t know how fucking lucky he is that I’m not using this chainsaw on him instead.”
I inch closer, watching him scurry back and almost fall flat on his ass. “Okay I got it! I’m gone.”
Even as I hear the elevator ding and I’m finally left in silence, all that rage is still inside of me, boiling away at my insides as I recall the conversation with my mother again and again — her words throwing my entire world off its axis.
I throw the chainsaw on the ground, sweat building along my temples as the room suddenly begins to feel claustrophobic. Reaching up, I quickly yank off my tie and fumble with the buttons of my shirt, ripping it off.
My hands tremble as I grip the table. I need to do something more.
Something tiring.
Something destructive.
My gaze falls on the sledgehammer sitting in the corner of the room .
I walk towards it, clutching the handle and testing it in my grip. My fingers tighten on the handle before I swing. The wall crumbles from the impact, shattering into rubble at my feet.
There’s a rush of power that dulls the heaviness inside of me and I swing again and again.
How the fuck could she do that to me? Her own son?
My love for her battles the resentment that’s beginning to take root inside of me like a weed.
And the worst part is knowing it’s my own mother that cost me the future I saw with Anastasia.
Inevitably I would have been drawn back into the underworld, but it could have been different. Better even, with her by my side.
I would have gone back for her, told her the whole truth and begged and pleaded for her to forgive me. We could have made an alliance as kids, joined forces early and saved us both from all the pain and torment of the present.
Even if she did reject me back then, at least we would have had closure.
Instead I fought alone, killed alone, ruled alone.
Even now as my ring sits on her finger, it isn’t the same. She hates me undoubtedly, sparing limited moments of affection that I grab hold of whenever I can .
But is it enough?
Can I live with only pieces when I already know what it's like to have all of her?
Bringing down the hammer, I smash again and again. My vision becomes a blur as that anger morphs into a pain that will stay with me forever.
A sharp whistle pierces through the loud thrum of the saw. I switch it off, hearing the soft applause that follows. Anastasia stands by the doorway, a rare smile playing on her lips as she cocks her head. “Wow, I didn't realize I was getting the whole show.” Heat blazes inside of me like a furnace as she runs her gaze over my bare chest. “If I had known, I would have brought some dollar bills with me and stuck them in your pants.”
I laugh quietly. “I only take hundreds.”
“Good, because that’s all I have.” Of course .
I almost roll my eyes but I don’t want to stop looking at her. Suddenly it’s like all my anger just fades away, replaced with whatever warmness she manages to conjure inside of my chest whenever she smiles at me.
Her gaze falls to my shirt and jacket, wrinkled in a pile on the floor. She pursues those full lips. “You didn’t fold them.”
I shrug. “What was the need? ”
Annoyance flashes across her features and I struggle to hold back a laugh. “To not crease them or get them dirty It's a common hygiene practice.”
I gesture towards them. “Be my guest.”
A light scoff expels from her lips but her stare remains fixed on them. Her jaw ticks in frustration as I wait and watch for what she’ll do next.
To my surprise, she picks them up and folds them both neatly before setting them on the only clean workspace available. I guess sometimes her tics manage to overpower her pride.
“Good girl.” It rolls off my tongue like a second nature.
She whips her head towards me. “Shut up. I didn’t do it for you.”
I drop the hammer and take slow steps towards her, watching her throat bob whilst the distance between us slowly disappears. “Oh really? Why did you do it then?” She frowns, refusing to utter a word but something else takes hold of my attention. “You’re not wearing heels?”
Except for when we’re fucking, I don’t think there’s ever been a time where I’ve seen her without heels.
“You have a very annoying problem downstairs. One of your workmen was pissing all over the front door. When I got out the car to walk inside, he turned and pissed on my brand-new pair of Louboutin’s.” Her finger jabs into my chest with each word.
I clench my jaw, trying to give myself another reason not to go downstairs and put a bullet in that asshole’s head. My gaze drifts to the chainsaw.
Or better yet, saw it off.
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Oh he said plenty. Don’t worry though, I tasered him thoroughly and Declan is currently dealing with him outside.” That’s my girl.
She meets my gaze, the fire dulling as if she can see through my thick skin of armor, inside to where sorrow and agony marinate. “Why are you here?”
“I can’t visit my fiancé?” Narrowing my gaze, I pin her against the wall. My hand wraps around her throat like a choker crafted just for her.
“Don’t play games with me, Anastasia. I’m not in the mood.” She lifts her knee to jam it into my stomach. I grunt hard, refusing to let go and press my body so close to hers. I can practically taste the spearmint of her toothpaste.
It tempts me to close the distance between us, remembering how good it felt to kiss her all those years ago .
We were hidden between the bookshelves, laughing at some ridiculous novel we were reading, and I remember looking away to stare at her again. Seeing those full lips and the gentle dip of her cupid’s bow. Watching her tongue peek out gently and knowing I would never feel sane until I tasted the cherry gloss on her lips. When I leant in, finally giving in to weeks of built-up desire, I knew nothing would ever be as perfect as that kiss.
Part of me wants to challenge that thought right now.
“Let go of me.” She seethes, yanking me back into the present. I blink a few times before realizing she’s trying to worm her way out of my grip again.
I should let her go. Let her run away like usual…and yet, she chose to come here.
Grabbing her wrists, I pin them above her head. “Did she tell you?” I spit out.
There’s a long pause before she finally relaxes in my hold. “Yes.”
I falter for a second. So she knows everything? The reason I had to leave, the reason I couldn’t come back, yet it doesn’t change anything.
My hand slides up the curve of her hip, cupping one of her full breasts to elicit a raspy moan from those full lips. I continue my exploration, tightening my fingers around that pretty neck again .
“I could squeeze and squeeze until all the oxygen is pumped out of your body and all that’s left is a corpse in my arms.”
“You wouldn’t—” She gasps as I tighten my grip.
It’s enough to incite panic in someone but instead her eyes flutter shut, like she enjoys the sensation of being so close to death.
I want to see how far I can push her. How depraved she truly is.
“It turns you on, doesn’t it? Being this close to death, knowing I have all the control.” I lower my lips to her ear, grazing the edge with my teeth. “I bet if I slipped a finger inside of you, you’d be wet and swollen, ready for me to fuck you senseless.”
“Enzo—”
“I’d bet you wouldn’t even care if I picked you up and threw you on the dusty table. Getting dirt and grime all over your perfect body and dress, making a mess of the mafia queen of New York City. No, you wouldn’t care as long as your perfect cunt is stuffed full of my big cock.”
Those full lashes flutter hard. “Please—”
“Please what? Please stop, or please deliver on that promise to fuck you senseless, mi amore?” I squeeze harder. My cock throbs painfully as her eyes roll back with an almost euphoric glaze — the same look she gets just before she’s about to cum.
But as much I want to throw her on the floor and fuck her until she’s so completely filthy and mine, I want to know why she’s here even more.
Releasing her throat, I sense the disappointment that rolls off her body in waves. Her breaths come out heavy and shallow, yet she still manages to shove me back.
“You asshole.” She growls, coming off more cute than threatening.
Rolling my eyes, I reach into my pants for a cigar. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”
“You can’t just manhandle me like that!” I ignore her and light the cigar instead, inhaling the rich hickory taste that quickly calms my nerves. “I can’t believe I came all this way for you.” She mutters softly, refusing to meet my gaze.
“So why did you?”
She scoffs. “Honestly, I guess I wanted to see if you were alright. What your mom did…it couldn’t have been easy finding all of that out.”
I huff, taking another deep drag. “I’ll survive.”
Anastasia shakes her head. “You know, I almost felt sorry for you — guilty even, for hating you all these years for leaving me only to find out you didn’t really have a choice. But that’s not true, is it?”
Something inside of me just snaps. “I was going to come back to you! I couldn’t just leave my Ma back there.”
“You couldn’t have left me a message? A fucking voicemail, a sign, a letter? Instead, you were just gone, as if I had dreamt the entire year up. You act as though you had no fucking choice, but you did. You chose revenge, you chose death. I can’t blame you for that I guess, if someone shot my mother I would have done the same thing but still, how can I just forgive nine years of abandonment? Of believing I meant nothing to you?”
My heart spasms violently as I see the vulnerability mirrored within her glassy eyes. It doesn’t matter what the truth is. I caused her pain. I hurt her and she went on for nine years living a better life without me.
The truth doesn’t rewrite the past.
“You shouldn't. I left the only person in my entire life who made me feel worthy of love. You don’t know how conflicted I was when my mom showed me your picture. The woman capable of saving my legacy was the very same I sacrificed for it. Fate can be cruel or kind but to us, I think it was both.”
Dropping the cigar, I reach out and grab her hips. She gasps as I drag her into my chest, cupping her warm cheek tenderly. “So hate me, Anastasia. Hate me for the rest of our lives but as long as we have something burning between us, the embers never settling, we can do this. We can find some sort of peace in our marriage.”
“What if I don’t want peace?”
I smirk, running my thumb over her soft lips. “Then my darling, we’ll thrive in the chaos together.
Those teasing lips lift up and I take the small offering to bury my face into the nape of her neck. The overwhelming scent of roses consumes my senses and she reaches around to squeeze my shoulders. “I found a dress.” She whispers, tilting her neck to give me more access. I smile, flicking my tongue out against her pulse point.
“What does it look like?” I sink my teeth into her skin. She gasps, the breathy sound hitting my cock.
“It’s white. Soft—”
“Does it have one of those slits in the middle? You know, for easy access?” A moan rolls off her tongue as I slip my hand beneath her dress, letting my teeth catch her ear. “I’ll want a taste of my bride before she walks down the aisle.”
“We’ll be in church, Enzo.”
My smirk razes over her body, watching her weaken away with every second I touch her. “You think God cares about our sins, mi amore? Souls as bloody as ours don’t require repentance. Trust me, we both condemned ourselves a long time ago.”
She drags my face up, forcing our noses to brush and I tighten my grip on her waist. The intimacy of her gaze is like a haunted lullaby, drawing me in so close that the rest of existence fades away.
My eyes flicker open, meeting blue and she parts her lips to speak. “Do you think that—”
Something crashes down the hallway and a scream echoes from the other side “Get off me!”
We both startle, pulling away from each other as we look down the hallway. I quickly pull my gun out the waistband of my pants before glancing down at her. “Stay here.
Fire blazes within her eyes and she pulls up her dress, grabbing the small pistol strapped to her thigh. “I’m not a dog and I’m certainly not standing here like an idiot.” She storms ahead of me, forcing me to run to catch up with her.
I almost crash into her back as she stops suddenly outside of the room. We press our ears against the door, hearing the unmistakable sound of a slap, followed by a grunting noise.
My hand reaches out to grab the handle, but she rolls her eyes and shoves the door open instead. We both stumble in, our guns aimed high .
“Oh god–” Anastasia mutters, quickly averting her eyes.
My own stomach revolts as Dom meets my gaze, smirking beneath the balaclava as he spreads Jas’ legs further apart. She’s so lost in pleasure that she doesn’t even notice us.
I’m half tempted to shoot him for his stupidity, but Anastasia doesn’t hesitate and fires her pistol at the desk. The bullet splinters the wood besides Jas’ head and she screams, pulling away from Dom until his cock slips out of her.
He growls, reaching for her again, but I fix my gun on him this time. “Don’t.”
That smirk twists into a nasty snarl, almost threatening which I don’t take lightly considering I’m his boss.
“What the hell are you doing, Jas?” Anastasia grabs the scattered clothes, passing them to her friend.
Her face blooms red as she hastily pulls on her half-ripped dress. “I’m sorry.” She fixes Dom with a scathing look. “He told me no-one would be here.”
“There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here.”
“Take the stupid mask off.” Irritation crawls inside of me, desperate to know what Anastasia wanted to say before we were interrupted.
“You were screaming.” Anastasia adds, barely sparing Dom a glance. “You said get off me. ”
“It was just play.” Dom counters, earning her dangerous attention.
“Did I fucking ask you, dog?” My own loyalties tear between the two, not wanting to piss off my fiancée but I also know that Dom would never fuck a woman unwillingly.
Jas winces. “It’s true, Stasia. I asked him to fulfill this stupid fantasy I have of sleeping with a robber. It was stupid to do it here but it’s just sex you know, nothing more.”
Dom’s face falls and I know he’s fallen into this deeper than he’s letting on. Yet he still shouldn’t have brought her here for a late-night fuck. It’s a safety hazard, if not unsanitary. “Go home.” I say to both girls. Anastasia hesitates, probably thinking about where we stand now just like me.
But it’s late and I still need to digest what my Ma told me.
Jas nods, pulling Anastasia out by her hand. I wait until I hear the elevator door ding close, before grabbing the bottle of Jameson I keep hidden away. “You want to talk about it?”
I hand him the bottle and he takes a large swig, probably enjoying the way the whiskey burns down his throat. I know I do.
“No, do you?”
I snatch the bottle back, still wondering what she was going to say. “Nope.