Chapter 26 Allegra #2
"This was all about you, little tigress. There will be time for more," he says, still nuzzling my neck, and I can't help but feel a little disappointed.
But he's right. This is just the beginning. And for the first time, I feel like maybe it was all a game of fate, leading me to this man that I'd love nothing more than hate.
But it seems I'm bound to do the reverse.
For all of Enzo's willingness to indulge my every whim, he still keeps himself aloof. Sure, we've been spending time together every day, and our discussions have skirted around topics like history, religion, and philosophy. Yet, I still don't know anything personal about him.
And I yearn for him to let me in.
He's been treating me better than anyone's ever treated me in my life, better than I'd hoped someone ever would. He's constantly there to listen to me and to make my every wish come true.
But what about him? Who does that for him?
Since restarting our relationship, we haven't talked about fidelity, and I don't want to think that he'd go to another woman, not after touching me so intimately.
Given how much time he's spending with me, I don't even see when he'd find the time to seek someone else.
But he's not letting you touch him…
I shake my head at the intruding thoughts, the possibility too painful to even consider.
Enzo's always touching me and bringing me pleasure, but when I want to do the same for him, he turns me down.
"Just the sight of you coming with my name on your lips is enough to get me off, little tigress," he'd whisper in my ear before kissing me and making me forget about the subject altogether.
What if he doesn't think you can do it?
My eyes widen at the realization… What if he doesn't want me to touch him because I don't know how? Is he seeking pleasure in the arms of someone more experienced? Someone who knows his body?
I swallow hard, the thought physically torturous.
I didn't want to admit it to myself before, my pride being the number one impediment, but I fell for him—harder than I could have ever imagined. He'd started planting the seeds ever since he tended to my wounded knee. He wormed his way into my heart until he was lodged there.
And now?
Now I feel like I might die when he's not around, when he's not touching me and whispering tender words in my ear. Even his term of endearment, little tigress, has grown on me.
I'm falling in love with Enzo Agosti. And it scares me.
"Here," he says, coming around and passing me some popcorn before settling on the couch next to me.
We've been locked in the cinema room for the entire day, watching a movie marathon.
He'd introduced me to some cult classics, and we'd enjoyed good debates that had ended far too hastily the moment I'd commented on an actor's good looks.
Enzo had been quick to prohibit me from ever saying another man's name again.
"Do that again, little tigress, and I might have to order a hit." I'd laughed it off, thinking he was merely joking. But the serious look on his face told me otherwise, so I'd changed the topic.
His irrational possessiveness might have put me off in the past, but now I find myself blushing at his proclamations that I'm his. Because surely, that must mean he cares for me.
"Thank you," I reply, letting my head rest on his shoulder, my arm intertwined with his. He half-turns, laying a soft kiss on my forehead.
It's during moments like these that he makes my heart flutter.
"You know," I start, burrowing into him and wrapping my arm around his waist, "for all your grumpiness, you can be quite sweet." Smiling sheepishly, I look up, curious to see his expression.
"Is that so?" He quirks a brow, amused.
"You are," I add with more confidence, and he cracks a smile.
"Only for you, little tigress. You have no idea what I'm like with everyone else."
"How?" I ask before I can think it through. I don't want him to tell me how he is with other women. Holding myself still, I await his answer.
"You're the only one who gets to see this side of me," he answers before amending, "the only deserving one." I frown at his choice of words.
Deserving.
I'm about to ask what he means by it, but then he continues.
"The others get the monster they created. The only difference is that they never see it coming."
His cryptic words give me pause, and I want to question him further, but once the movie starts, I become captivated by the action on screen.
A while later, the door to the cinema room bursts open, and the lights are turned on. We both scramble to get up, squinting to get accustomed to the sudden light.
A tear-streaked Lucia runs toward Enzo, hugging him and bawling her eyes out. Enzo freezes, his hands still by his sides.
I don't know what's happening, and Lucia doesn't seem to say much besides wailing and lamenting whatever she's lamenting.
A look of pure horror crosses Enzo's face as she keeps moving her hands all over his body, and I decide it's enough.
Grabbing her arm, I pull her off him, taking my place by his side. He breathes a sigh of relief, and his muscles immediately relax—not that I can't relate since Lucia isn't the most pleasant person.
"What is it, Mother?" His voice is grave and cutting as he addresses his mother, and she quickly collapses on the floor, continuing to cry her eyes out.
"Your sister..." she starts, hiccupping. "Romina's dead."
Enzo freezes.
"What do you mean she's dead?"
"They found her," more sobs, "naked and beaten up. Her husband is in custody."
Enzo's face morphs before my eyes, and he pushes my hand away, taking a step to put some distance between us.
"You're telling me,"—his voice causes a shiver to go down my spine and I instinctively take a step back—"that my brother-in-law killed my sister?"
"What am I to do? My child!" Lucia's sobs are getting louder, but all I care about is Enzo—being there for him.
As I go toward him to offer him some comfort, he evades my touch, leaving the room.
I'm rooted to the spot, looking at his retreating figure and not knowing how to proceed.
"Bitch," Lucia's transformation is sudden as she wipes away her tears, her diabolical smile returning full force.
God, is this a woman who just lost her child?
She barrels into me on her way out, kicking me to the ground. I barely have time to break my fall, and my elbow catches on one of the seats, my skin peeling on a metal bar. My face contorts in pain as my hand goes to my newly bleeding wound, trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain.
"You think you've won, don't you? But you don't know Enzo like I do. Soon you'll be out of this house and on the streets." She laughs at my pained expression, and I barely avoid the kick intended for my stomach.
"We'll see, Lucia," I grunt as she leaves the room.
I'm not about to go down easily. And while Enzo's grieving his dead sister, I'll be there to comfort him.