Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
RAYNE
Being cooped up in this penthouse with only Enzo for company is torture.
It only took me half a day to contact my clients and cancel the half a dozen engagements I have coming up in the next month.
Aside from one client who threatened to sue me for every cent I have, the others were fairly understanding of my family emergency.
And I did pass on the name of some great photographers who I know have space to fit them in, so I didn’t leave anyone high and dry.
The occasions are a good side hustle, even if they’re not my favorite way to spend time.
Given my dislike of both crowds and parties, it was an odd profession for me to go into, but it allows me to indulge in my passion for photography.
One to two events a week makes enough money to supplement my income from sales of my work in a local art store.
Aside from that, I’ve had little to do. It’s been four days now, and Enzo has been insufferably annoying for all of them.
So goddamn arrogant and self-righteous when he has no damn clue.
I actually came close to telling him the truth about what happened six years ago earlier, just to stop him looking at me like that.
Then I remembered how hard I tried to tell him the truth back then.
How he looked at me with that same disdain six years ago and swore he’d never believe anything I said ever again.
So what would be the point? If Oscar and Joseph were in possession of that video, then Enzo and his brothers will find it.
Then I will walk out of here with my head held high.
I know it will hurt him, but it seems like it’s also the only way he’ll ever let me go.
And I do need to go. As small as my life in San Francisco is, it’s still mine.
In the meantime, I’m stuck here with nothing to do but read and do a little yoga, which is kind of nice in small doses, although I’d never admit that to him.
At least he ordered in some groceries, so now there is actual food to eat and not just steak, eggs, and protein bars.
I’m fixing myself an afternoon snack of fruit and cookies—because I’m all about balance—when he saunters into the kitchen like he owns the place.
I mean, he does, but still. He doesn’t have to be so annoying about it.
He pours himself a glass of water and then sits at the counter watching me, no doubt judging my food choices.
Enzo has always kept himself in good shape, but now he seems to have even more muscles and zero body fat, which was very apparent when he was standing shirtless in the hallway the other night chatting to his date.
And his defined abs weren’t the only thing apparent.
Stop it, Rayne. We do not think about sociopathic, rage-aholic mob bosses that way, no matter how hot they are nor how skilled with their fingers.
I plaster a fake, sweet smile on my face and spin to face him. “Is there a reason you’re staring at me like that? Other than the obvious?”
“The obvious being how much I hate and distrust you?”
“No, I was referring to how your dick gets hard every time I’m anywhere near you.”
He glances down. “My dick’s not hard.”
Oh, he makes this far too easy. “Did you actually have to look to check if you’re hard? Have you lost all feeling down there through lack of use or something?”
“It gets plenty of use.”
“I’m sure it does.” I make a jerking-off motion with my hand, even though I’m one hundred percent certain Enzo fucks any woman he wants to when he wants to, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that aloud.
“Fuck you,” he snarls.
“Oh, I know how much you’d like to, but it’s never happening,” I say, even if that’s a pity. He does know many ways to bring a woman pleasure, and he’s damn good at it. But no amount of mind melting orgasms would be worth letting him near me.
“You really think I’d touch you? I don’t like used goods.”
I snort a laugh. “Vanessa a virgin then, is she?”
He closes his eyes and clears his throat, like he’s reining in his temper. When he opens them again he seems much calmer. Maybe he really has matured these past few years. “Tell me more about this video.”
The words are like a punch to my stomach. My hands tremble so much that I have to put the plate down on the counter. Obviously, he notices.
“I know what’s on it, Rayne,” he says with a sigh. “This isn’t about making you feel shitty for your choices. I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. The sooner I do that, the sooner you can leave.”
Choices! That’s laughable. “So today you’re going to let me leave? The other day you were keeping me prisoner here forever.”
“We both know I’m not enough of a masochist to endure your presence for any longer than I have to. So, the video?”
I ignore his barb and focus on the positives. If this is going to help get me out of here, then I’m all about helping. I pull out a stool and take a seat, popping a chunk of pineapple into my mouth, making him wait for me to finish eating it before I speak. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“When Oscar told you about it, what exactly did he say? Did he give any clues to what else might be on there?”
“It was Joseph who described the video to me, actually. He described it in great detail, and I got the impression he watched it a few times. Sick bastard.” Enzo growls, like he’s agreeing with me, but he doesn’t speak.
“According to him, it was forty-seven minutes long, and it only shows what happened. Two people. Nothing before and nothing after.”
“So just you and Tommy?” he asks.
No, I almost say. But what would be the point of that now?
It will only cause him immeasurable hurt, and I’m not in a strong enough frame of mind to be dealing with all of Enzo’s guilt and pain right now.
“It was me, yes.” He doesn’t seem to pick up on my omission, and I don’t give him a chance to overthink it.
“Why are you asking me this? You must have a theory about the Bertellis and how they came to be in possession of that recording.”
He grinds his jaw, staring at me like he’s deciding whether he should tell me what he knows.
“I want to help you, Enzo. I want that video found as much as you do. Believe it or not, I do have a life in San Francisco that I’d like to get back to.”
“Oh yeah? Anyone in particular you’re desperate to get back to, Rayne?”
He has a nerve asking me that when his date was over here a few nights ago. I have half a mind to call him an obnoxious pig with double standards, but I swallow it down and remind myself arguing with him gets me nada. “No. Only my ficus.”
His eye twitches and he glares at me for a few seconds longer. “I heard some information that the Bertellis were planning to use you and that video to somehow overthrow the don.”
A snort of laughter bubbles out of me unexpectedly. “Me? To get rid of Carmine Falcone. But how?” I gape at him, aware I must look like an idiot but not caring.
“I don’t know.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“In fact, I have no fucking idea, Rayne. But the don tells me he wants the Bertellis taken out, then you show up at their request to get some video. Then I’m told that Oscar Bertelli had something on the don, and a woman was going to help them out with it.
It all seems a little too coincidental to be not connected, don’t you think? ”
I can only imagine they intended to reveal the truth to Enzo and somehow use it to implicate Carmine, but I have no idea how I fit into that plan.
They could have simply shown Enzo the recording themselves.
If only he hadn’t killed Joseph and Oscar, we might actually get some answers.
“I agree, but how the hell could I bring down Carmine Falcone? I’m a wedding photographer, Enzo, not some kind of kingpin. ”
“That’s what Oscar said though.”
“To who?” I chomp on a strawberry.
“That doesn’t matter. The point is, this is all somehow connected, and I know you’re hiding something from me.”
Fuck! Yes, I am, but will coming clean actually help right now, or just open me up to more humiliation and pain?
The truth sits in my mouth like broken glass.
I could spit it at him—let it cut him open.
I could tell him that every name he has called me was built on a lie, that every year he spent hating me was another year I had to survive being hated for something I didn’t do.
But Tommy is dead. Enzo and I are broken beyond repair.
Most importantly, he has proven without a doubt that he will simply not believe me.
And I refuse to give this man another opportunity to call me a liar.
“Before Vinny killed Oscar Bertelli, he was about to tell me something. About Carmine and my father.”
“Your father?” My heart bottoms out of my chest. I know he always hated me, and even though I’ve had my suspicions, I always dismiss them.
Surely, Giovanni wouldn’t have had anything to do with what happened that day?
But if we’re discussing coincidences, it’s still a huge one that Oscar came into possession of that video after Giovanni’s death.
He never told me how he came to have it, or even mentioned Giovanni’s name, but it was the first thought that crossed my mind.
Where else was it for six years? But is a niggling suspicion enough for me to accuse Enzo’s father of something so heinous?
“Yeah.” Enzo nods. “I even considered that it could have been him who planted that camera.”
I considered it too. Especially since at least one of his brothers knows more about what happened than he’s ever let on.
Before I can voice my agreement, Enzo adds, “But there’s no way he’d have done that.
I know Papa and I had our differences, but he’d never have betrayed me like that.
Family was everything to him. Him and my brothers…
We’ve always had each other’s backs. No matter what. ”
Yeah, I think to myself. No matter what.
The Medicis against the rest of the world, and I am definitely not a Medici.
I was allowed to stand close enough to mistake their warmth for belonging, but not close enough for them to choose me when it mattered.
If I make any accusations now, it’s only going to blow up in my face.
Enzo will hear his father’s name and stop hearing me.
He will look at me the way he did six years ago, like I’m worthless.
Definitely get me another lying cheating whore accusation thrown in for good measure.
And I am absolutely none of those things.
So, I don’t tell him anything more than I already have.
So what if he thinks I’m hiding something?
It’s nothing that he’d believe. Nothing that will help his cause right now either.
There’s nothing on that video other than the worst moments of my life.
I simply need to sit tight and let him find the damn thing, and then I can walk out of his life forever.
I’ve protected him from it for as long as I could, but when Enzo finds out what really happened that night, I know it will break him.
And I don’t intend to hang around to pick up the pieces.
I already had to put myself back together piece by piece, alone and afraid, and I have nothing left now for anyone else.