Chapter 37
____________________
ENZO
I try not to grimace at the sharp sting as I dress the cut along my palm. It’ll leave a scar thicker than on the other side, but it sparks a weird comfort knowing that only my wife and I will ever know the truth of its origins.
The beautiful memory engraved in my skin.
Sighing, I look in the mirror to admire the hickeys and scratch marks that are scattered over my body. My muscles ache from the relentless night of fucking. It started in the orange groves but swiftly moved to my car and then the patio outside. before we finally made it to the bedroom .
I would never admit this to her, but I think she might have broken my dick.
Not that I’m complaining. Bottoming deep inside of your wife five times a night is every man’s dream.
As I leave the bathroom, the strong smell of omelets invades my stomach. I groan, even though I’m starving, because whilst my wife excels at most things in life, cooking is not one of them.
I take a seat on the bar stool, watching Anastasia flit about the kitchen with chaos surrounding her. I’m about to rest my arm on the countertop when I notice the mess of runny yolk across the surface.
For such a clean freak, you’d expect the place to be spotless and yet she’s frantic, running around aimlessly whilst her eggs sizzle and the toast burns.
A few minutes later, she sets the plate out in-front of me. “Just the way you like it.” You see, I love Anastasia and all her ticks but one of them is proving everyone else wrong.
One thing my father taught me was that you do anything to please your wife — even if that means suffering from food poisoning because her little brother says she can’t cook.
She watches me intently as I swallow down a mouthful. I smile through the taste of burnt eggs, onions and overly salty mozzarella, but it’s the chili that nearly knocks me out .
“Well?” Her big blue eyes grow wide with anticipation, making her look like a kid on Christmas.
I nod, desperate for a gulp of orange juice to wash it down with. “It’s nice. Did you do something different?”
Rolling her eyes, she turns to leave but I grab the hem of her dress and spin her back to me. My hand slides up her throat, wrapping around it naturally.
“It’s delicious.” I bite at her neck. “And so is the chef.”
“Don’t patronize me. It’s shit.” She snaps, the fire in her eyes already beginning to burn despite the early hour. For once we’re both up and dressed, with plans to meet my mom for lunch.
I begin to soften her edges as I scatter small kisses behind her ear. “What did you do differently?” This has been the signature dish she’s trying to perfect and after five attempts already during our honeymoon, somehow this batch is the worst.
“More chili flakes because the last one had no taste and no oil this time. I used a spray instead, but it didn’t work and I had to scrape it off. I think I ruined the pan but there’s less fat.” I can’t help but laugh softly.
My wife’s figure is flawless, even after so many days spent lounging around in the sun and eating our bodies weight in food, yet I know how disciplined she is with routine .
“It does make it taste worse though and I would rather have good food than fewer calories. I promise to join you in the gym when we get home, even at four in the morning or whatever ridiculous time you go, but for now no restrictions.”
A smile lifts on those lips and she throws the omelet in the bin, alongside the burnt pan. “Make me pancakes with chocolate strawberries.” Laughing, I grab a dish cloth to clean up when my phone buzzes.
“That’s weird.” I mumble, reading over the message.
“What is?” Anastasia tries to see it over my shoulder, but I sit down on the stool again and drag her back onto my lap.
“My Ma text me. She hates messaging, says it’s too American.”
Anastasia reads over the message from my Ma, letting us know where to meet her for lunch. “Well maybe she was in a rush to get ready, her plane did just land this morning or maybe she’s getting used to becoming an American. She is moving there now.”
True . The whole point of her coming out here was to settle some business before she moves back to New York with us.
“Hey,” Anastasia drags my attention away from the phone. “She’s fine and you’ll see her in a few hours. ”
“I suppose that’s true.” She shuffles back, accidentally brushing her ass against my cock.
I plant her hips down, fixing her over my revived dick as it begins to swell again at her movements. She gasps as I smirk.
“I’m not fucking you again. I’m ready and showered and dressed and I—”
A laugh breaks free from her chest as I throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to the bedroom. “You were saying?”
***
She’s angry at me. I can feel the burn of her heated glare, searing through my skin as I attempt to navigate the narrow streets. “You ripped my dress.”
I glance to the side. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy what came next.” Which was her. Over and over as I ate her pussy out like it was my breakfast — it was.
“I bought the dress specifically because your mother loves sunflowers. It was supposed to be a talking point.” She bites out. “And my hair is a mess, I barely had time to touch up my makeup…oh god, she’s going to know and then she’ll think I’m some kind of sex obsessed maniac. ”
Laughing, I take a sharp right turn towards the valley. “Or maybe she’ll embrace the fact that her son and his new wife are actually getting along rather than holding knives to each other’s throats.”
That pulls a smile on her lips for a moment, but it’s gone when she glances outside. “Are you sure this is the address? It just looks a little…rural.”
I tap the GPS on the navigation system and watch our little blue dot flash as it reaches its destination. “I know it’s a way out but my Ma loved this area of Sicily. It’s remote and filled with hidden treasures as she liked to say. Her friend owns a cafe out here and she’s been hounding me to visit ever since she tried the cannoli—”
But the words die on my tongue as we turn into the graveled carpark. There’s a small shack-like building with a sign saying Rio’s as my Ma described, but blood stains the crooked wood and bullet holes have ripped through the window. Anastasia gasps and I follow her gaze to an elderly man lying dead just a few feet away.
I quickly put the car in reverse, despite the nagging thought that my Ma could be here too, but I have to get Anastasia out.
Then I feel her body stiffen besides me. “Enzo, I recognize him. ”
Looking up, I watch a man emerge from behind the shack, two more following him as they beeline straight for us. Anastasia shifts her gaze to me. “He’s the bouncer at Lucky Charm.”
And this is a fucking ambush.
My foot slams on the gas pedal, causing the car to jolt backwards. Anastasia lets out a yelp, grabbing the handle overhead as the car crashes into something hard. My head hits the steering wheel, blurring my vision for a second and inciting a wave of nausea that takes me back.
“Enzo? Fuck.” I can hear her mumble and I manage to lift my head just enough to see the black jeep behind us reversing back again.
Alarm bells sound in my head as I catch the driver’s stare and watch a slow smile curl on his lips. I unbuckle my belt and launch myself over Anastasia to cover her as the car comes slamming into us again.
She screams, gripping onto me tight whilst our bodies collide with the dashboard. I grunt as my ribs take most of the impact and she quickly moves me back onto my seat, before reaching into the back for our guns.
Smoke billows from the hood of the car and I glance at the mirror again, panic beginning to kick in as three more men climb out of the car. The one Anastasia recognized taps on my window, just as my wife presses a gun into my palm.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” He holds his phone against the glass, threatening us with a picture of my mother, gagged and tied.
Clenching my jaw tight, I try to suppress the violent urge I have to put a bullet between his eyes.
He laughs, exposing all his yellow teeth. “No place to go.” The Irish accent is like a taunt, and I squeeze Anastasia’s hand tight, relishing in the sharp dig of her ruby ring. “Run baby. As soon as I open this door, run.”
He slams his meaty fist on the window again. “Hurry up!”
“Enzo don’t—” I force myself to look away and drown out that beautiful voice. Dropping the gun, I unlock the door and let him drag me out. He delivers a sharp punch to my jaw before hauling me up again and slamming me into the car. I groan, feeling the bruise all the way down to my ribs. “Boss is going to be happy to see you.” It takes all my strength not to beat this mother fucker’s ass.
“Ugh you asshole! Get the fuck off me!”
“Anastasia?” I lunge forward, easily freeing myself from his grip but another two rush forward to pin me down. “Fuck, no! Anastasia, run! Just fucking run baby, please! ”
I can hear her scream and it wrenches a fist sized hole in my chest, ripping my heart into shreds. Her pain becomes distorted as another punch lands itself across my cheek. My head smacks the ground, causing the world to spin.
“Enzo!” That beautiful voice manages to pierce through the chaos but someone lifts me up, smiling sadistically before slamming their fist into my face again.
It knocks the wind from my chest and my eyes suddenly become heavy. It isn’t long before darkness invades, dragging me away from the only light I’ve ever known.