Chapter 35 Enzo
ENZO
What the fuck happened?
Opening my eyes, I groan at the fierce headache that hits me. Looking around, I frown, surprised to find myself in my old room.
I'm alone in bed, but the shape of another body is imprinted in the sheets next to me, evidence of what happened the night before. Allegra isn't around, but I hear the water running in the bathroom.
Not wanting to come face to face with her, I grab my clothes and stumble into the room across the hall.
Fuck!
Bits and pieces are coming back to me, and none of them paint me in a good light.
"Enzo, please don't. Not like this."
That one phrase keeps replaying in my head, and I try to remember how it got to that point.
I'd been late to the party, held back by a meeting with the Russians. Ever since we'd cut our ties with Lastra, we'd been unable to find a new provider for the clubs. Rocco had put me in charge, and I'd met with the current Pakhan to discuss a new deal.
A lot of vodka later, the talks seemed promising. I'd certainly left with a good feeling about this partnership and a little buzzed from the alcohol.
When I'd gotten home, though, my first thought had been to find Allegra. Knowing how many strangers would be present at the party, I didn't want to risk anything happening to her. If I were honest with myself, I didn't want to risk her interacting with anyone she might find interesting.
Sometimes, the mere thought that someone might snatch her from me makes me so mad I can barely see straight.
So I'd made a beeline for the ballroom, excusing myself from the people who stopped me to wish me a happy birthday. But just as I'd entered the ballroom, Mother and her group of friends had stopped me.
"It's not polite not to do a toast, Enzo," my mother had said, her friends quickly agreeing. "You're the birthday boy, after all." I'd refrained from rolling my eyes, and taking the champagne glass that Mother had offered, I'd chugged it down.
"Great, now if you'll excuse me," I tried to move past them, but once again they stopped me so they could hug me and kiss my cheeks.
Over ten people had lined up to wish me a happy birthday, and by the time I'd started looking for Allegra again, my vision had started fading, my adrenaline pumping.
I'd stopped in the middle of the ballroom, slightly disoriented, a simmering rage just beneath the surface.
Someone had guided me toward the balcony where I'd spotted my wife in the embrace of another man.
My brain had stopped working at that point. I just remember a rage unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life burning in my veins, seeking to be released.
And so I'd grabbed the man, and I hadn't stopped until his blood was hot on my hands. But even then, it hadn't been enough. I'd put a bullet right through his skull, not caring about the reactions around me.
My mind had honed in on one thing—someone had touched my wife. And there was hell to pay.
I'd grabbed Allegra and brought her to the room. And then…
The images are jumbled, and I only recall snippets, not a coherent narrative.
But one thing is for sure.
"Enzo, please don't. Not like this."
If Allegra didn't hate me before, she sure as hell did now. And me? I'd gladly put a gun in her hand so she could take her retribution.
I still don't understand, though, how I could do something like that. I've seen my sister and the aftermath of her rape.
Hell, I have my own demons to grapple with.
And because of that, I know I would have never taken her against her will. God, I'd gone to great lengths not to fuck her.
Pulling up my phone, I dial a contact who works at a toxicology laboratory.
"I need a blood test," I say, giving him a few details. I quickly shower and change my clothes before heading to his place.
I'd felt so unnaturally angry that I know for a fact I had been close to mass murder—especially when I'd seen that man's hands on Allegra. That I'd stopped at him is a wonder. Hell, that Allegra is unharmed is a miracle.
Wait… Is she fine?
Shame burns deeply in my gut at the thought of seeing her look at me with nothing but loathing in her eyes.
Do I deserve better? The flashes I can recall from last night are enough to make me the villain of the story—the monster who hadn't stopped when she'd said no.
God, Allegra… What else did I do to you?
I'm almost afraid to find out.
As I'm about to leave, I see Ana exit her room, so I pull her aside and question her about Allegra's state.
"She seemed fine to me. It's a wonder she's held up for so long, though," she says, shaking her head before her eyes widen, realizing she'd let something slip.
"What do you mean?" I ask immediately, assuring her nothing will happen to her. "I just want the truth."
"Signora Lucia's been a little…" she says, looking around before lowering her head to whisper to me.
I listen with a heavy heart as she recounts all the instances she'd witnessed of my mother bullying and ridiculing Allegra on purpose. Slowly, a picture paints itself in my mind, and it's not pretty.
I thank Ana for her sincerity and leave the house.
"Fuck!" I hit my fist against the steering wheel. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
What did I do to her?
It's no wonder she wanted her own place. She's been living in hell.
And I just… let it happen.
I get my blood drawn, and my contact lets me know it will be some time before the results are available, but he will get back to me as soon as he has them.
"From what you told me, though, it's pretty clear someone did drug you," he mentions as I leave. "Now it's only a matter of finding out what drugs were used."
His hypothesis confirms what I already suspected, so as I head back home, my only thought is how to face Allegra.
Wanting to get everything out of the way, I decide on a direct confrontation.
Knocking on her door, I open it to find her at her vanity, combing her slightly damp hair.
Stepping behind her, I take the comb from her hands and thread it through her hair. She watches me intently through the mirror as I finally work up the courage to speak.
"I liked your hair better before," is the first thing that flies out of my mouth, and I almost groan at my choice of words.
"Your mother was right. I needed a change," she replies, her face betraying no emotion.
My eyes covertly assess her body, looking for any signs that I might have been too rough with her.
Fuck! If only I could remember…
"You should never listen to my mother," I say, and her eyes narrow. "You're still beautiful," I quickly amend, not wanting her to think I'm criticizing her looks.
Her hand covers mine on the comb, and she stops me, turning around so she can look me in the eye.
"You don't have to lie to me, Enzo. That's one thing you should never do." Her fingers brush over mine as she withdraws her hand, but I quickly catch it, stooping to my knees in front of her. I take both of her hands in mine and bring them to my lips.
"You're beautiful to me, Allegra," I tell her sincerely. The most beautiful. "Don't ever doubt that."
She scoffs, an ironic smile playing on her features.
"Is this the guilt talking? For what you did?" She tilts her head to the side, an eyebrow raised as she studies me. "Don't bother. I'll forgive you if you never spout such lies to me again."
My eyes widen slightly as she casually mentions last night as if it were nothing, her features emotionless.
God… she must really hate me.
Before I can respond, she shakes off my hold and stands up, going to her wardrobe.
"It's late. You probably have somewhere to be, right?" she asks without looking back at me, her attention focused on the clothes before her.
I recognize I'm being dismissed. But the fact that her voice is so bleak… I shake my head. I would have preferred it if she fought me. If she had slapped or cursed me. But this?
"As you wish," I reply, exiting the room and leaving her alone.
What have I done to you, Allegra?
Her apathy is more powerful than any bullet she could have put through my heart. The thought that I might have killed something inside of her with my behavior is unpardonable.
It takes a couple of days for the results to come back, and the long list of substances doesn't even surprise me.
"It was a strong cocktail of amphetamines and MDMA. It would have caused anyone to snap." The laboratory technician proceeds to tell me that such a mixture of substances is known to cause the kind of irrational anger and paranoia that could easily lead to murder.
"Thank you," I say as I hang up, my hands clenched in fists.
Goddamn it!
I should have gotten rid of her years ago. But I'd put my sister's happiness above my own thirst for revenge. How would they have reacted if the mother they so loved and adored turned out to be a fucking pedophile?
But this seals it.
I lock the door to my office, ready to confront my mother when I hear Ana scream from upstairs. I run toward the noise to see Allegra crouched on the floor, her arm around her waist as she's emptying the contents of her stomach. Blood is pouring out of her nose.
"What the fuck?" I curse out loud, coming to her aid right away. Ana is calling 911 while I try to calm her down.
"The food," she whispers, pointing to the half-empty bowl of food on the desk, and I immediately suspect the worst.
Poison.
I hold her as she keeps on retching, dabbing a cold towel on her forehead.
The ambulance quickly arrives and I hold on to her as she's being carried to the car. The journey to the hospital is one of the worst nerve-wracking moments of my life as I hold her cold hand, hoping the poison is slow-acting and that we're not too late.
Waiting around in the emergency room while the doctors attend to her, I have enough time to realize exactly who is behind this—the same person who drugged me.
It all makes sense. Mother must have thought that seeing Allegra with another man would injure my Sicilian pride enough that I'd kill both of them at once. And when that hadn't happened, she'd decided to finish the job herself.
The attending physician confirms that she was poisoned and tells me she was lucky she exhibited the symptoms early because they pumped her stomach before the poison got into her bloodstream.
With a sigh of relief, I thank the doctor and go see my wife.
She's pale, lying in bed with her eyes half-closed.
"How are you feeling, little tigress?" I ask, taking her hand in mine.
"Like shit, obviously," she attempts to crack a joke, but then she winces in pain.
"Fuck, are you okay?"
"It's just some stomach cramps. The doctors say I'll be as good as new." A feeble smile stretches across her face and my heart flutters.
She's fine.
"Good," I say, standing up to leave. "Ana will stay with you until they discharge you," I add, and she just nods. Maybe I hoped she'd be a little disappointed that I'm not staying, but her face doesn't give anything away.
Reluctantly, I turn to go, but only because I have someone to take care of.
I reach the house in record time, and I head directly for my mother's room. I don't bother to knock as I push the door open.
She's on her bed, half-naked and masturbating to a video that's playing on the TV on the wall. Shocked, I stop in my tracks, turning my head when I hear my own voice coming from the TV. My eyes widen as I see myself thrusting aggressively into Allegra from behind.
What the fuck is this?
"Enzo," my mother scrambles to cover herself, using the remote control to stop the video.
"You filmed us?" I ask in disbelief.
"Enzo…" Her lip trembles, knowing she's caught.
"Oh, so this is you celebrating Allegra's death, isn't it?" Wanting to see her mask slip, I imply that her number on Allegra had been successful. Just as I imagined, a look of pure triumph spreads across her face—one that's making me sick to my stomach.
Akin to a confession, I don't even need to hear the words of confirmation out of her mouth. I grab her wrist, containing my disgust at the contact, and take her with me.
"Where…"
"Shut up and follow me," my voice is low enough to put the fear in her, so when I push her into the passenger seat of the car, she doesn't struggle much.
I drive us quickly to one of our warehouses outside the city, and I drag her inside the desolate place.
The reckoning has arrived.
"Enzo, what is the meaning of this?" She frowns as she looks around the dilapidated warehouse.
While I was waiting for the test results, I'd had enough time to think of all the ways I'd make her pay—because in my mind, she'd been guilty from the get-go. But now I can get a little more inventive.
She dared touch Allegra.
And that means her death won't be swift.