Chapter 18
Vittoria
I’m done. Done with the messages he keeps sending to my phone, the threats, and the reminders that Enzo still thinks he owns me. He’s relentless, like a wound that won’t scab over, constantly picking at the edges of my sanity.
The words change, but the meaning stays the same—sleep with one eye open, he says.
I will kill your lover and make you watch.
Other times, it's more detailed. He spells out exactly how he'll do it, how long it'll take, how I'll scream for mercy that won't come. You were nothing before me, and you’ll be nothing after. Run all you want, but you’ll never be free. Sometimes, it’s almost casual—an image of a knife, a noose, a grave. No words, just implication. The kind of thing that would terrify me if I hadn’t already lived in fear for too long.
But I’m not scared anymore. I’m exhausted. And that’s worse.
Dario’s made it clear that whatever happened between us is dead now, stomped out under the weight of everything I’ve done. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we don’t deserve to have a happy ever after. But if I can’t fix things with him, at least I can put an end to this on my own. I owe him that much.
Leaving the estate isn’t difficult. Rafa watches me with something like suspicion as I walk past, but he doesn’t stop me.
He’s loyal to Dario, but he’s not my jailor.
If I wanted to run, I would have done it already.
Instead, I take a car and drive straight to the place I never wanted to see again—Enzo’s house.
My former house. Because if I do manage to get out of this alive somehow, I’ll never return here.
The gate looms ahead with the guards standing like statues, only moving when I step out of the car. Recognition glints in their eyes, followed by something colder. Disdain? Pity? I don’t care. They pat me down, take my phone, and lead me inside.
Enzo doesn’t look surprised to see me. He leans back in his chair, arms draped over the sides like a king on his throne. He takes his time, scanning me from head to toe before he smirks. “Took you long enough.”
I keep my voice composed. “We need to talk.”
His smile sharpens. “Talk? Or beg?”
I don’t move, don’t let him see how much that word makes my skin crawl. “Neither. I want a divorce.”
That wipes the smirk off his face. His jaw twitches. “You’re funny, you know that?”
“I’m not joking. I want out, Enzo. And I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just disbelief and something uglier beneath it. “You think you can walk away from me? After everything? Because you’re Dario’s latest whore? What, you think he’ll marry you or something?”
I hold my ground. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure every secret you’ve ever tried to bury gets dragged into the light.”
His amusement vanishes as he stands to move towards me. The air tightens between us and his expression darkens. “You really don’t know when to shut up.”
The slap comes fast. My head jerks to the side, skin burning where his hand landed. I taste blood.
The pause lingers between us. He’s watching and waiting to see if I’ll crumble and beg like I used to. But I don’t move, don’t say a word.
His voice softens, turning sickly sweet.
“You know, I thought you’d come crawling back on your own.
I didn’t even have to lift a finger.” He leans closer, gripping my chin between his fingers.
“No one will ever love you the way I did, you stupid bitch. No one will ever put up with you and your pathetic need to be loved.”
I jerk away. “That wasn’t love, Enzo. That was control.”
His face darkens, and before I can brace myself, his fist collides with my stomach. The air rushes out of me as I stumble back, my knees threatening to give out. I swallow the pain but refuse to let him see how much it hurts.
He towers over me, his voice venomous. “You think you’re strong now? Think you’ve found some hero to save you? Dario’s dead the second I get the chance. And you—” He grabs my arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “You’re not leaving, not until he’s dead and I’ve taught you a lesson.”
My stomach clenches, but I force my voice to stay even. “You’re making a mistake.”
He laughs. “I think you already made yours.”
The door opens, and two of his men step in.
Enzo nods toward me. “Take her and lock her up. You know where.”
I don’t fight when they grab me. But as they drag me away, one thought echoes louder than the pain in my ribs.
This ends here. One way or another.