Twelve
TWELVE
Enzo
“ Let me do the talking,” Nico said.
“I don’t need you to speak for me, Nico,” I said.
“Let me do the talking, Enzo,” Nico repeated.
I didn’t argue with him, but I didn't need Nico to speak for me. My pulse was pounding in my ears, and my throat felt tight. I was on edge. Ready for a fight.
Or worse.
But I’d take what came. I had done what I did and would stand on it.
Yes, Nico was good at managing Don Carlo, but I didn’t need to hide behind my cousin.
I wouldn’t hide behind my cousin.
Don Carlo’s security waved us in, and Nico and I ascended the front stairs like we had countless times before. The mansion looked the same. Classic architecture, grand empty hallways that screamed wealth and sadness.
But this time felt different. The air, always heavy with the weight of Don Carlo’s weakness and regret, felt even more oppressive today.
Because there was a chance I might not leave.
That should have bothered me more than it did.
But I didn’t give a fuck.
Whatever punishment Don Carlo saw fit to mete out was well worth it.
And I’d kill Fabiano a thousand times over if I could.
Even thinking about Fabiano having the nerve to touch Molly made me want to kill him all over again. My body tensed, still ready for the fight.
“Unclench your fists,” Nico said.
I hadn’t realized I’d clenched them, but I followed my cousin’s instructions, and together, we walked to the don’s office.
“You wanted to see us, Don Carlo?” Nico said.
The old man was wearing his standard attire: smoking jacket, leather slippers, cigar in his mouth.
He looked tired and ancient, even more so than usual. His skin was more papery now, and his finger trembled, though I noticed he tried to stop them.
But I understood him now in a way I hadn’t before.
I had never said it to Nico, but I had never understood why losing his wife and son had shaken him so.
It was part of the life.
I realized now how foolish I had been.
Molly was alive, and I would do everything in my power to make sure she stayed that way long after I was gone.
But the absolute torture of not knowing she was okay, the thought of losing her…
Don Carlo lived that every day.
Lived with the regret of knowing he hadn’t been able to save his family.
Yeah.
I understood him now in a way I hadn’t before.
“If the cigars or my enemies don’t put me in the grave, you will, huh, Enzo?” the don said.
I smiled. “I’m…”
“It’s handled, Don Carlo,” Nico interjected.
“Nico, I was talking to Enzo,” the Don said.
Nico looked at me, and I nodded.
To my surprise, my cousin relented, and I knew he wouldn’t say anything more. Nico often complained that looking after me was a full-time job, but when I looked at him, I was sure I saw a respect that I hadn’t seen before.
“I take full responsibility,” I said, my gaze unwavering as I stared at Don Carlo.
“For what?” Don Carlo said.
“I killed Fabiano Genovese and two of his men. I also torched the Genovese warehouse.”
“And where are the bodies?” Don Carlo said.
“They've been disposed of,” I responded.
“So they won’t even get a proper burial,” he said.
“They got the burial they deserved,” I responded.
The don’s thick, bushy brows arched.
“This wasn’t business related?” he said.
“No, it wasn’t,” I responded.
“So you violated a truce and killed—all without approval,” he said.
“I did, Don Carlo,” I said.
“You don’t sound sorry, Enzo,” he said.
“Because I’m not,” I responded.
“You made an oath to this family. Part of that oath was obedience.
You broke it. Yet you won’t even pretend to regret it?” he said.
Nico shifted next to me. I didn’t look at him.
Instead, I kept my gaze on Don Carlo and made sure my eyes were on his when I spoke.
“No. I don’t regret it. Not one bit. And, if I were so lucky, Fabiano would come back to life so I would have the joy and pleasure of killing him again,” I said.
I went quiet then, waiting for Don Carlo’s response. Each second stretched, taut, the weight of the silence pressing down. But still, I refused to blink.
“She must be special,” he finally said.
“She is,” I responded without hesitation.
“It’s going to cost you,” he said.
“She’s worth whatever the price,” I said.
“Fabiano’s family will receive an appropriate tribute. And fifty percent of what you earn is mine for the next year,” he said.
“Yes, Don Carlo,” I said.
“Now, fuck off,” he said.
The old man lit his cigar, and Nico and I left without another word.
We didn’t speak until we were back in his car.
“You got the cash?” he said.
“Yes, I have it,” I responded.
“You don’t seem happy,” Nico said.
“You want to talk about my feelings, cousin?” I said.
“Not particularly, but you just slipped out of a capital offense with barely a slap on the wrist. Seems like you should be more excited,” he said.
I knew he was right, but I looked at him and said what was on my mind.
“What’s the point without her?”
Nico didn’t offer me an answer.
Molly
“ Have you thought about what you want to do?”
“No,” I said.
The doctor, an older South Asian woman with kind brown eyes, smiled at me. “I’ll have the receptionist give you some information,” she said.
“Thank you,” I responded and started to tear up when she patted my hand. Her skin was warm and dry, and the simple touch nearly undid me.
It made me think of my grandmother, and how much I missed her and the past that was gone.
It made me think of Enzo, and how much I missed him and the future that could never be.
I coughed and wiped my eyes. “Stupid hormones,” I said.
“I know,” she responded.
The woman patted my hand again and then left, and I got dressed. The crinkle of the paper on the table and the paper gown felt thunderous in the quiet. They’d tried to decorate the place, walking the line between professional and welcoming, and in truth, they hadn’t done a half bad job. Best of all, even the antiseptic scent that burned my nostrils wasn’t so bad. This wouldn’t be the worst place to see this through if that was what I decided to do.
This doctor’s appointment had just been a formality.
I was pregnant.
Thinking that didn’t send me reeling as it had in the last few days. But having it confirmed did put a bit of a different spin on things. It was real now. Like really real. And the truth somehow felt heavier than I’d expected and lighter than a feather all at the same time.
First and foremost, I’d have to talk to Enzo. I didn’t want to do that.
Or rather, I wanted to talk to him badly, but didn’t feel like I was equipped.
But how I felt was now secondary.
I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but he deserved to know.
And as soon as I gathered my courage, I’d tell him.
On the walk home, I felt lighter than I had in days. I’d made it through whatever life hurled at me.
This would be no different.
I had my grandmother to thank for that. And I knew, no matter what, Hope was in my corner. I looked around at the scenery I so often ignored. Saw the way the rays of sunlight bounced off the concrete, felt the air on my skin, not too cold but brisk enough to remind enough to feel, the sounds of traffic, music floating out of windows as I passed by.
All of it together bursting with life.
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.
Still smiling, I rounded the corner and stopped in my tracks.
I would have recognized him anywhere, and even from down the block, I could tell it was Enzo. Some part of me wondered if I was imagining him.
But that couldn’t be. Nothing I could imagine compared to the man standing in front of me. Even with the distance between us, I felt him, could feel that gravitational tug that pulled me toward him
I forced the smile off my lips and looked into his eyes. “You coming to drug me again, Enzo? Maybe do worse?”
“I just came to talk,” Enzo said.
The jerk couldn’t even give me the courtesy of acting defensive.
I frowned, but then gestured toward the door to my apartment building.
Enzo followed me up the stairs.
“I haven’t seen anything about Fabiano on the news,” I said once we were inside my apartment.
“You won’t,” he said.
I didn’t know what it said about me that I didn’t feel bad about that.
But I couldn’t muster an ounce of sympathy for Fabiano.
Instead, I stared at Enzo, my mind whirling with a thousand questions before I settled on one.
“If I ask you a question, will you be honest with me?" I said.
“Yes,” he responded.
Despite everything, as stupid as it made me, I believed him. God help me, I believed him. “You should have killed me that night, shouldn’t you?"
“Yeah,” he said.
I arched a brow. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because…” He trailed off, and I shook my head.
“Remember, Enzo, honest.”
“I will. I’m just trying to think of the best way to say it.”
“Don’t think of the best way to say it,” I said. “Just say it.”
My voice was sharper than I intended, and I hated that my emotions took me over. Felt those stupid tears that I could barely control burning at the corners of my eyes. I prayed I could keep them from falling, but I wouldn’t put money on it.
“The truth is I saw you and Hope that night. Two innocent people just out having a good time. You didn’t deserve to die.”
“We didn’t deserve to die?” I whispered.
“You didn’t. And I know that shouldn’t have mattered, but I couldn’t make myself do it. So I took the only other option I could,” he said.
“Would you ever have told me that you’d drugged me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Nico said I should,” he said.
“I heard him,” I said.
“Yeah. I figured.”
“But you still might have kept it to yourself,” I said.
He nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Well, at least that’s the truth,” I said.
“It is.”
He looked at me, his expression fierce, intense.
“Molly, if you want someone to be perfect, that’s not me,” he said.
“Don’t I know it?” I said.
He gave me a small smile, but then turned serious. As serious as I had ever seen him.
“I’m not fucking perfect. I’m going to make mistakes. But you have to know that I love you. I think I might have loved you since the first time I saw you,” he said.
“Yeah, right, Enzo,” I said.
His expression didn’t change.
“I told you no lies. And it’s true. I don’t fucking understand it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. The thought of hurting you, the thought of you in pain…”
He shook his head, then looked at me.
“I can’t bear that,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
'I want you to forgive me. I pray that you forgive me. And I haven’t prayed for anything since I was five years old. But if you can’t, know that I’ll respect that,” he said.
I looked at him skeptically.
“You’d be the bigger man? Let me go?”
He shrugged.
“I mean, I’d try. Probably fail. But point is, Molly, I don’t want to hurt you.
I love you,” he said.
My stupid, traitorous heart melted as he spoke the words, and I worried whatever was left of it had fallen into his hands just like the rest of me had.
“Do you even know what that is?” I said.
“For a long time, I had no fucking idea, but when I look at you, I know.
I love you, Molly. And I will forever.”
I teared up, and Enzo frowned.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see the day that Molly would cry,” he said.
“Goes to show how much you know. I cry all the time,” I said.
He looked at me skeptically. “Since when?”
“According to the doctor, about eight weeks now,” I said.
He looked at me, frowned.
“What are you saying, Molly?”
I twisted my hands in front of me, suddenly nervous. “Enzo, I’m pregnant.”
His mouth flopped open, then closed. Then he looked at me with confusion and shook his head.
“Pregnant?” he said.
“Yeah,” I responded.
He didn’t say anything. Just stared at me, and the tension just built and built, the silence so thick and heavy the air crackled with it.
“Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” I finally said when I couldn’t take it any longer.
Still, he didn’t say anything. But what he did do was pull me into a hug so tight I could barely move.
“Pregnant,” he said as he pulled back and looked at me.
He held my face in his hands and then kissed me.
“Pregnant,” he whispered against my lips.
“Enzo,” I said.
He pulled back, because he must have heard something in my voice.
I looked into his eyes, and he stared at me.
“What do you want? What do you need? Anything, doll,” he said.
“Just promise me that there won’t be any more secrets between us,” I said.
“No more. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I promise I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. And I promise you that I will do whatever I have to
to make sure you and this baby have the life you deserve,” he said.
He pulled back a moment, staring into my eyes.
“I love you, Molly,” he said.
Then he looked down, put his hand over my stomach, his thumb brushing over my abdomen like I—like we—were the most precious things in the world.
And just like that, any lingering fear, any reservations faded into nothing.
“And I love you,” he said.
I looked at him, some part of me still marveling, unable to believe.
But another part of me—the much bigger part of me—knowing I was exactly where I belonged
“We love you, too.”