Chapter 8 Enzo
ENZO
Allegra's attention is back on her food, but I'm just staring at her in shock. She doesn't even know how close to the mark she was with her joke.
"So you've been starving yourself?" My voice is lower, softer, because I can only pity anyone who's going to meet her fate. Franzè is not one to be taken lightly, and his many dead wives are a testament to his ruthlessness. I doubt they all died of natural causes.
She raises her eyes to meet mine and releases a breath. "I just eat what I can." The words are spoken carelessly, but I can read the subtext—she's not given any food.
I don't reply, mostly because for the first time, I find myself speechless. Based on her last name, I'd immediately assumed the worst about her—that she was a spoiled rich girl looking for a good time.
I almost laugh to myself. Considering how awful Leonardo and Cristina Marchesi are, it doesn't surprise me that they'd abuse their own daughter to reach their goals. And certainly, Franzè will be a wonderful resource as a son-in-law. He'll provide the opening into Europe they so desperately want.
Leonardo was never supposed to become capo.
The youngest of four sons, his pastimes included whoring, gambling, and more whoring.
He dedicated his time solely to the pursuit of pleasure.
When his father and brothers suddenly passed away in a plane crash, he'd been the only choice for the Marchesi line to continue.
But Leonardo didn't have a clue about leading a business, and so the family's enterprises had slowly turned to dust. I'm guessing that's why he's been so keen on becoming in-laws with Franzè.
After she's had enough, Allegra gulps down a glass of water and leans back in her chair, a look of pure contentment on her face.
I take out a cigarette and light it. I take a drag and move my head a little so the smoke doesn't go in her direction.
"Is that good?" Her eyes are fixed on my cigarette.
"It's an acquired taste." I shrug.
"The guards are always smoking at home," she purses her lips, deep in thought. "Can I try it?"
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"You want to smoke?"
She nods enthusiastically and, rising, she quickly comes to stand next to me. Before I can say anything, she takes the cigarette out of my hand and brings it to her mouth, parting her small lips to accommodate the tip.
Fuck. Me.
She sucks in her cheeks in an attempt to inhale, but nothing happens. She has this look of pure concentration on her face that's just adorable.
"How do you do it?" she finally asks me.
"Just like that," I start, taking the cigarette in my hand. "You put it in your mouth," I pause as I do that, "and then you suck, inhaling at the same time." I demonstrate, and she watches attentively.
"OK. I can do that." She's impatient as she grabs the cigarette and wraps her lips around it, inhaling. All too soon she starts coughing, just like I knew she would.
"How can you do that? It's vile." She sticks her tongue out and makes a disgusted face.
"Acquired taste." I struggle to keep a straight face; her expression is too funny. And just to rile her up further, I feel the need to add, "You realize we just shared an indirect kiss."
She stops, and her eyes go wide.
"Ew!" she bursts out, wiping at her lips with the back of her hand. "Gross."
I don't know how I expected her to react, but certainly not this vehemently.
"You're a pervert!" she screams at me, turning around and running back toward the living room, but not before palming some more bread and ham.
From open-mouthed outrage at her outburst to an amused smile, I don't know what it is about this girl, but she's damn endearing.
Shaking my head, I go to the control board and switch from autopilot to manual. A quick look at the map tells me it's another half an hour until we reach the port.
"Is this how you drive the boat?" Her voice takes me by surprise, and turning back, I see her gazing in awe at the view from the front of the boat. She still has a piece of bread safely ensconced in her arms, and she's slowly chewing some.
Still eating.
"You're done sulking?"
"I wasn't sulking." Her eyes move from the sea to me, and she frowns. "I was fuming," she corrects, and her eyes sparkle with mischief.
"Fuming?" I ask, curious to see what she's going to cook up next.
"A girl's first kiss is very important. Even an indirect one." Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cross her arms over her chest in indignation.
"God, I stole your first indirect kiss. I took advantage of you, didn't I?" I play along, my voice taking on an innocent tone.
"When do you not take advantage?" she asks dryly, raising an eyebrow at me. "I don't think I've had a moment of peace since I met you. And it's only been a few hours."
"You're hurting me, little tigress," I make a fake attempt at sounding wounded, but she just shrugs.
"I wish," she says with a sigh.
Why is it so hard to get a read on her? I don't know if she's playing along, enjoying the back and forth, or if she actually hates me—which, honestly, would not be unwarranted.
I've been a major dick to her. Not more than usual, but this time the receiver of my admittedly not-so-great temper had been innocent.
Way to screw this up, Enzo.
The girl's probably traumatized, but why can't I find it in me to regret it?
Damn!
I don't do feelings, and I certainly don't do apologies. It's not as if we're going to see each other again after I leave her in Malta. I'll go my own way, and she will go hers. End of discussion.
Maybe I'm suddenly feeling a little guilty because I've never met a woman like her before. Someone who is willing to defend her ideals and her dignity at the expense of her own life.
Hell, I've known made men who cry like little babies in the face of death and prefer to go the coward's way—betraying their core principles—just for one more minute on this earth.
Not Allegra. She was bravely yet foolishly ready to meet her end.
I have to admit to myself that something had shifted in that moment.
I'd seen her almost blue skin, the way her teeth were chattering and her body was shivering, and yet her eyes still displayed a steely determination.
She was halfway to the grave, but she'd have gladly taken a shortcut instead of submitting to me.
On the brink of death, but still defiant, she'd instilled respect in me. I won't ever tell her that, but she may be the first female I've ever given my respect to.
And she had proven me right.
She can give as good as she gets. And all this bickering between the two of us has been more than just me picking on her. I'd given her the opportunity to interact as equals, and she'd more than risen to the challenge.
The corners of my mouth lift in a subtle smile because as I watch her munching on her food, her eyes focused on the outside view and not on me, I can't help but feel sorry for her and the fate that awaits her.
But it's not my business.
I'll drop her at the ferry terminal, and then she's off my hands.
"What's this?" she leans down, her hair brushing across my face, and I catch a whiff of sea salt and another scent that is just hers. Instinctively, I close my eyes, inhaling deeper.
"Mr. Big, Bad, and Scary, are you listening to me?" My eyes snap open, and she's a few inches away from my face. An eyebrow raised, she looks me in the eye, holding my gaze.
I raise my hand, my thumb brushing across her upper lip. As expected, she flinches, a fire appearing in her eyes.
"You eat like a savage." I hold up the crumb of bread I'd swiped from her lip, and she rolls her eyes at me.
"So?" Her finger points at the screens on the control panel.
"Some are for navigation, while others are for the video feed."
"Why do you need that?"
I press a few buttons, and the screens come to life. One screen shows the rooms in the yacht, while another has the back view of the boat.
"Wow…" She scrunches up her nose, looking in wonder at the feed.
"This is us." She points to the camera that's angled toward the control room.
The way she's looking at it, you'd think she's never seen something like it before.
Slowly, she touches her finger to the screen, tracing it with the tip.
The angle immediately changes, and she jumps back.
"They're touch screens," I add, and her eyes widen.
"You mean they react to my touch?" Her voice is barely a whisper; she's so amazed by the technology. Almost reluctantly, she swipes her finger on the screen again, and the images change once more. She keeps doing it until I feel the need to step in. My hand closes around her finger, and I stop her.
"You've never seen something like this before?"
She shakes her head, her eyes still focused on the screen. My hand is still on top of hers, and she seems to suddenly notice it because she pushes me off with a huff.
"Keep your hands to yourself," she mutters under her breath, taking a step away from me.
I guess we've ascertained one thing—she really doesn't like me.
"What's that?" Allegra comes closer once again, and my first thought is that she's going to try to play with the screens again. But when I see what she's pointing at, I curse out loud.
"It's another ship." I note the distance between us, but also something else. I quickly zoom in, and the glint of steel shines even in the depth of the night.
I thought I'd have more time.
But I hadn't calculated for the trouble with my little stowaway.
Shit!
When I'd seen the forces these people had mobilized at the airport, I'd been sure it wouldn't be the last I'd see of them. And so I'd decided to complete the delivery as soon as possible, even though technically I have until Wednesday, two days from now.
I can't even tell how many people are on the ship, and with Allegra on board, I don't know how I'm going to manage.
"Allegra," I start, addressing her by her first name for the first time. She notices the difference too, as well as the seriousness of my tone, because she turns to face me, waiting.
"We're in danger. That ship doesn't have good intentions." Her eyes widen a little, but she doesn't say anything. I stand up and, grabbing her by the hand, I take her to where I'd stored the weapons.
"Have you ever fired a gun?" She quickly shakes her head.
"It's not too hard." I take a couple of Glocks out and lay them on the table. I quickly show her how to load the gun.
"Now," I step behind her, nestling her against my chest as I raise my arms to guide hers.
"Make sure the safety is off before you actually shoot.
" Covering her finger with mine, I press the trigger.
Since the gun is empty right now, nothing happens.
"You want to hold yourself straight and put some strength into your upper body.
The moment the gun fires, the force of it will knock you back.
" She follows my instructions attentively.
"Do I have to kill someone?" Her voice is small as she asks this, and I have to remind myself that for all her spunk, she's not like me.
"Little tigress," I turn her around, my hands on her shoulders.
Looking her in the eye, I try to make her understand just how serious this is.
"Those people are killers. They won't think twice about shooting you.
Now, you either want to survive or you don't. I can't make you kill someone, but I can show you how to fight. "
She gives a brisk nod.
"Why are they after you?" she asks as I watch her assemble and load the gun as I'd shown her.
"They want something I have," I say cryptically.
Back in the control room, the screen shows the ship approaching, and I know time is of the essence.
"I'm going to take the helm, little tigress, and I'm going to manually get us out of here. I need you to be my eyes, and if they get too close, shoot. You think you can do that?"
I don't know what to expect from her. From everything I've seen so far, she's been extremely sheltered. What can a coddled little girl like her do with a gun? I have to admit to myself that I have little confidence in her actually shooting.
But hey, a man can hope.
She gazes back at me, all the incertitude from before gone. With a slow nod, she gets into position—just as I'd taught her.
And I start the ship at full speed.