Chapter 18
This Is My Revenge
I got an A in my Algebra test! Papa got me a tutor because I was struggling so much. Are you proud of me? —Love always, Izzy
Enzo
Derek Shaw.
A big fucker.
A coward.
I motion for Dante to follow me, the two of us trailing him from his mistress's house.
Once he’s in position, I let out a low whistle. His head snaps to the sound, finding Dante and me standing behind him, arms crossed, twin unbothered expressions on our faces.
“I…” he stutters before turning to flee. He gets about five steps before Papa steps out from the shadows, his face a storm cloud of violent rage.
Derek trembles, no longer the predator.
“Please,” he whimpers. Pathetic.
“You know why we’re here for you?”
Tears fall from his eyes as his throat bobs.
Papa gives a single nod. That’s all I need.
I lunge, securing my arm around his neck, holding tight until I feel his body turn limp against me.
“Let’s go,” Papa says, sliding open the door to the waiting van.
Dante and I grab hold of Derek, forcing him inside before climbing in as Rafael, one of our enforcers, speeds us out of there.
We bring him to the lowest level of my building—the part with incredibly restricted access.
Holding him by the scruff of his neck, I drag Derek into one of the interrogation rooms, shoving him roughly into a chair in the center and binding him to it.
Then I punch him in the face to wake him up.
He gasps, eyes flying open.
I flash him a cruel smirk.
Dante stands with folded arms, resting against the wall to my left. Papa mirrors him on the right.
Part of me wanted to do this alone, but I’m glad for their support.
“Please don’t hurt me,” the pathetic excuse for a man whimpers.
“I imagine Izzy would have said something similar—oh no, that’s right, you drugged her so she couldn’t,” I sneer, wrapping my fingers around his jaw in a grip tight enough to bruise.
I spit in his face before shoving him back into the chair and moving to my table of tools. Nate has no idea how alike the two of us really are. That thought almost makes me chuckle.
I pick up a small blade, slipping it into my pocket before returning to him.
Crouching, I meet him at his level.
“Remind me, Derek, what happened that night?”
He shakes his head, tremors wracking his body.
“You don’t remember?”
I rest my hands on his knees. He shakes at my touch. “Let’s help you recall,” I tell him, leaning in close to whisper, “You hurt the woman I love.”
A whimper escapes his lips.
“She was scared, confused, paralyzed.” I tilt my head. “Want to know what that feels like? To be so helpless? Vulnerable?”
“Just kill me,” he cries. “I know you’re going to. Just do it already.” A little fire comes back to him.
Good. I like snuffing out their light.
Papa steps forward, syringe in hand.
I take it from him, slowly pushing the paralytic into Derek’s arm, letting him feel the slow anticipation as it works its way into his bloodstream.
I laugh as he tries to cry out, to speak. But I made sure to use one that would lock up his jaw. I want him to feel as helpless as Izzy did—to steal his voice from him.
Palming the knife, I use it to cut through his shirt. Letting the sharp tip rest against his collarbone, I wait, let it build, then slice a quick X through his skin. A tear drips from his eye as he helplessly watches his own downfall.
Izzy
Noemi lounges across from me, legs kicked up on the couch like she owns the place. “So, tell me about a young Enzo.”
I can’t stop the laugh that slips from my throat. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything. Was he always so,” she grins, “serious?”
It’s strange how different the version of himself that he portrays to the world is to the one I know. Even now, while he has a harder edge than before, he still jokes around with me. I see the way his face lights up.
Shaking my head I sigh. “No. He was always protective. But he never failed to make me laugh.”
Noemi leans forward. “You mean he can smile?”
I roll my eyes. “Yep. Seen it myself. Verified.”
“Damn.”
“How did you get into this life?” I ask her, taking the conversation away from Enzo.
Her face darkens. “I was at an event—serving, not attending. Some guy got handsy with me in one of the back corridors.” She smirks then. “Broke two of his fingers and kneed him in the junk.
“Enzo saw. Said he appreciated my fire. I grew up on the streets. While my life was better than before, I was barely surviving. He gave me a lifeline. I took it.” She shrugs at me. “The rest is history.”
Noemi stays for most of the evening, keeping me company while Enzo’s off doing God knows what. He’s made it clear that until I tell him my secrets, he won’t indulge me with his.
Once Noemi leaves, I’m bored and restless.
I text Enzo, but there’s no answer. That has me frowning. He never ignores my texts.
Needing out of the apartment, I throw on a woolen dress, then head down to the reception. Henry is at the front desk like usual.
“Do you know where Enzo is?” I ask him.
He freezes, like a deer caught in headlights. “I… Um…”
“Where is he, Henry?” I ask, stepping closer to him.
He gulps. “Downstairs.”
Downstairs? In the garage level? I wrinkle my nose, heading back to the elevator, hitting the button to the lowest level—I hadn’t noticed it before now.
“You can’t go down there!” Henry calls, frantic.
“Try and stop me,” I call, smirking as the doors close between us. If Enzo didn’t want me to know what’s down there, he shouldn’t have given me an all-access keycard.
When the doors re-open it’s to a dark hallway, with only a few sconces warming the space with dim light. There's the faintest hint of bleach in the air masking something more metallic.
It’s silent, the only sounds coming from my steps on the concrete floor and the quiet thumping of my heart, until—
“Are you starting to remember, Derek?”
I freeze, my blood running cold at the venom in Enzo’s voice.
A tiny whimper follows his words.
Forcing my feet to move, I notice one of the doors slightly ajar. Moving to it, I peer through the crack.
Enzo stands over a man tied to a chair in the center.
No.
Not just any man.
Derek Shaw.
Bitterness seeps into my veins. How dare he do this without me? This is my revenge. I should be the one causing Derek to hurt. The same way he hurt me.
The door clangs open with force.
Enzo’s head whips in my direction, fear slashing through his expression.
“Iz—” he starts, but I cut him off, waving my palm at him to stop.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I seethe, stalking towards him with narrowed eyes.
He gulps. “Izzy, I… This isn’t…”
“You would take this from me?” I ask, hurt lacing my tone. “You would kill him without me even knowing?”
Enzo’s expression morphs into one of puzzlement. “I… What?”
“How could you not let me be part of this?” I whisper, my voice breaking just enough to hint at how deeply this betrayal hurts me.
“I didn’t think you should see this,” he tries to explain.
I shake my head at him, ignoring the way Dante and Massimo are watching me with a mixture of trepidation and fascination.
“I told you I wanted to be here. I told you.”
Enzo shakes his head. “I didn’t think—”
“No,” I spit out. “You didn’t think.”
I stride over to the table in the far corner. “How much pain have you already inflicted?” I ask, clenching my jaw to the point I’m worried it might crack. I force my muscles to relax.
“What? Iz—”
“How much?” I hiss.
“I was about to kill him. The paralytic has just started to wear off.”
“Paralytic?” I raise an eyebrow, twisting to look at him over my shoulder.
He shrugs. “I wanted him to feel a little of what you did.”
I nod. It’s a nice sentiment.
Shame I wasn’t here to witness it.
I pick up the pistol from the table, letting its familiar weight ground me.
Turning back around, I step in front of Derek. Tilting my head, I admire Enzo’s handiwork: his nose is clearly broken, blood crusting, there are tiny cuts in his skin over his chest, a few of his fingers are bent at awkward angles. His tongue is lying on the floor by his feet.
My fingers dig into his jaw as I pull him roughly toward me. I force him to look me in the eye as I sneer down at him.
He groans, his jaw unlocking, but of course, no actual words can escape.
“You don’t deserve to die,” I tell him. His brows rise—a little slowly from the paralytic. Enzo makes a noise of protest in the background, but I’m not done. “Ma non posso lasciarti vivere8.”
I untie him from the chair.
With the gun I motion for him to get up. He hesitates, then moves.
He runs—tries to—feet stumbling, tripping over each other.
“This is mercy.”
Bang.
He falls, hitting the floor just as he reaches the doorway.
Silence descends on the room.
“Get out,” Enzo barks, but his words are not to me.
Wordlessly, Massimo and Dante leave, dragging Derek's body away with them.
I turn back to Enzo, finding him watching me, something unreadable in his eyes.
My chest rises and falls rapidly as he begins stalking towards me with predatory grace, stopping directly in front of me so I have to lift my neck to look him in the eye.
He lifts a hand, dragging a lock of my hair away from my face. My lips part.
Then he’s crashing his lips to mine, his hands moving to my waist, dragging me closer to him. I can feel him hardening against me, his cock pressing into my stomach.
He lifts me, his hands coming under my thighs.
Nothing else matters but the feel of his lips against mine, the way his muscles feel under my hands. I explore the smooth planes under his shirt as I undo the buttons. He shrugs it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.
Then he’s moving. My ass hits cool metal and I hiss, but before I can complain, he’s ripping my dress off and sucking a nipple into his mouth through the fabric of my lace bra.
I cry out as he bites down—hard.
He kisses along my collarbone, up my neck, before taking my lips again. His hands are everywhere. Mine are too. We’re a mess of desire and need.
Enzo rips his mouth off me, dropping to his knees in front of me. Before I even have time to process, he’s ripping my panties off and then he’s spreading thighs.
He groans, his mouth so close to my pussy I can feel his warm breath on my core. “Fuck, look at you. Your cunt’s fucking perfect. So pink, so wet.”
His words have me panting. Then he pushes my legs wider and runs his tongue over my slit. He sucks on my clit, moaning into my swollen flesh, as he sinks two fingers into me.
My hands fly to his head, fingers twisting in the strands of his dark hair as he fucks me with his fingers and tongue. My hips jolt, greedy for more.
“God, yes, make a mess of my face, Isolde,” he rasps, coming up for air for a moment before burying his face back between my thighs.
A scalpel from the table digs into my thigh beneath me—the bite of pain only heightens my pleasure.
Enzo’s grip on me tightens as I rock against him. I can feel blood trickling from where the scalpel is cutting into my flesh.
When he curls his fingers at the same time as biting down on my clit I don’t just come—I fucking explode.
Incoherent sounds fly from my lips as wave after wave of pleasure courses through my very soul.
Electricity dances over my skin, burning me.
Sweat drips from my forehead. My chest heaves as I suck in air.
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Enzo pulls back, noticing the trail of blood dripping from my thigh. He leans in, his tongue flattening to lap it up.
He groans as he cleans the blood off me with his mouth. “Even your blood tastes sweet.”
Enzo rises from between my legs, breathing hard, lips slick with blood and my cum. He looks every bit my salvation and my sin.
But then… his eyes change.
He stiffens, stepping away from me.
“Izzy…” he rasps, voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have—fuck, I’m sorry.”
I frown, still panting, the aftershocks of my orgasm barely faded. “What?”
I reach for him, but he flinches like I’ve burned him. “I forgot. I didn’t think.” He grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on the strands. “After what he did—God. I touched you; I took advantage.”
A sharp, bitter laugh escapes me. “Are you actually serious right now?” I hiss, hopping off the table and stepping toward him, in nothing but my bra, even as he continues to back away. “You think you took advantage? That I didn’t want that?”
His gaze snaps to mine, shock and confusion warring in his features.
“I wanted it, every second.” I blow out a breath. “But maybe it was a mistake, because now you’re acting like I’m broken. Like I’m fragile.”
“Iz—”
“Let’s just forget this happened.” I shake my head, clearing away the lingering tension and desire. “Let’s not ruin the friendship.”
He nods once, not looking at me.
I pull on his fallen, blood-stained shirt, covering myself, before fleeing as fast as my legs will take me.