54. Enzo
FIFTY-FOUR
ENZO
“ T hey’re here,” E said, staring out the window as Fox’s Jeep pulled into the driveway.
“Get Cole,” I murmured, standing and smoothing my shirt. I’d been nervously pacing the house since Fox left. I’d sent some men, so they were nearby. Fox didn’t know I was doing it, but I couldn’t risk shit. I had another twenty on standby if needed.
E left the room and went upstairs to wake Cole.
I didn’t hesitate. I stalked outside and pulled the door open to Rosalie’s side. She looked up at me with tears on her face. I lost it.
“Sunshine,” I choked out. “ Baby. Fuck.”
She looked like hell. Her face was swollen and bruised. Her lip was cut. Several cuts were along her cheek and her brows from being struck.
I tugged her out of her seat and into my arms and held her as she clung to me, sobbing and saying my name.
My eye caught Fox’s as he stared at me from over the Jeep’s hood. I hadn’t forgotten his promise to take her away if one single thing happened to her. I wasn’t sure how, but I had to fix this. The look in his eyes told me he was over this shit.
“Anson will be coming for dinner tomorrow night,” he said, his voice a monotone. He was pissed. I was, too, but his was a different sort of anger. I knew Fox well enough to know when he was mad at me.
I was mad at myself, too.
Opting not to beg him to forgive me for this happening, I gave him a curt nod instead.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you inside to rest.” I steered her toward the house, noting she had a limp. I ground my teeth. She’d had a broken leg in the accident with Ian, and her limp was in the same leg. Old pains that came back to haunt. It was a thought that flooded my head on repeat.
Fuck, please don’t regress, Sunshine. You’ve come so far.
I kept my head up, trying to be strong for her. The moment we were in the living room, and she was seated on the couch, Cole rushed into the room, fell to his knees in front of her, and cradled her face as I sat beside her.
“Fuck, Rosebud. What the fuck? ” he called out. “Tell me you’re OK. Tell me h-he didn’t?—”
“He tried,” she said, her voice trembling. “I was so scared.”
Cole pulled her against him and held on, rocking her in his arms despite her soft whimpers of pain. He fixed his eyes on mine as he kissed her head fiercely.
“Let me,” he said to me. His voice was strained. I could see how he was trying to keep himself in check for her sake, though, and I knew what he wanted. He was asking for permission to start killing people.
I nodded at him, and he let out a deep, shaky breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“They’ll pay for this,” Cole said, focusing back on Rosalie. He pulled away and stared into her eyes. “You hear me? I’ll kill them all.”
“No more. No more killing. No more fighting,” she said. “I-I want Ethan.”
“He’s coming,” Cole said tightly, ignoring her plea for a cease-fire. “He wanted to put fresh sheets on your bed so you can rest since I’ve been rolling around in them since you left. He’s running you a bubble bath, too.”
She nodded, looking as miserable as I felt. I glanced at Fox again to see him sitting on the loveseat, his elbows resting on his knees as he sat forward, his blue eyes fixed on her.
“Fox,” I called out tentatively.
“What?” he asked, not looking away from her as Cole continued to dote.
“I-I’m going to make dinner. Could you help me in the kitchen? Cole can take Rosalie upstairs to rest and see E.”
Fox looked over at me. “OK.”
I breathed out, grateful he was entertaining the idea of a conversation since he’d barely said ten words to me in the last three days.
“Come on, pretty girl,” Cole cooed softly, lifting Rosalie into his arms. “Let’s get a nice warm bath. I’m sure E filled the tub with your favorite bubbles. Then we can rest. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” she said, wrapping her arms around Cole’s neck. He didn’t look back as he left the room with her. Fox stood and walked into the kitchen. I followed him.
“Fox, man?—“
He rounded on me abruptly, his eyes flashing.
“Listen to me,” he snarled, getting in my face. “That girl in there is my whole fucking world. In the big scheme of things, no one fucking compares. Do you remember my promise? I’m going to break this fucking party up.”
“What does that mean?” I bristled at his words.
“It means, Enzo, that I’ll break this shit up and let her go. I love her enough to do that for her. This life is going to fucking kill her.”
“I’ll protect her. We will protect?—”
“Yeah? Is this what our protection looks like? Huh? Our girl practically raped in an alley, her face busted to hell? Huh? Is it?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” I said. “I’ve already got men out, taking care of shit.”
Fox let out a bitter laugh and backed away from me. “You’re a fucking idiot if you think any of that shit is going to matter. You’re only making it worse.”
“What would you have me do?” I demanded, following him as he went to the fridge and opened it. He grabbed water from the inside before turning back to me. “They fucked up, and now they will pay?—”
“No. One of us will pay. This is a war where there are no winners. You’re just too fucking blind or stubborn to see it.
” He shook his head at me. “If this shit happens again, someone will die. It’ll be her or one of us.
Then what will you do? Does someone need to fucking die for you to get it? Is that what needs to happen?”
“I won’t let that happen,” I said fiercely. “You fucking know me, Fox. You know how much I care about her. About you guys. You’re my family!”
“The only thing I know is that someone is going to end up dying. Rosalie will always be the first casualty because to hurt a man, you take what he loves. It’s fucking war 101. Why do you think she’s upstairs, busted up right now?” Anger and disgust were all over his face.
“I don’t want this,” I said, my voice strained. “We’re in deep. The only way out is if we claw to the top.”
“We can always fall to the bottom and disappear. Have a chance at a normal life with the woman we love. You know we can.”
“But I’d be abandoning everything we worked so hard for. My father?—”
“You’re too prideful. Too fucking stubborn. That’s your problem.” He turned and walked away from me.
“Fox, man, come on?—”
“I’m going upstairs to take care of Rosie. Order takeout. She probably won’t eat anyway.” And with those words, he left the room. I stood in his wake, feeling like the biggest piece of shit in the world and not having a clue how to fix anything.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I made a phone call to rally my men.
Blood dripped from my knuckles as I stepped away from the dead man in front of me. I’d beaten and tortured him. He was the third one of the night.
I’d ordered takeout and had left the house without telling the guys where I was going. I gathered men and went to work. I didn’t want to take Cole away from Rosalie. E wouldn’t be in a state to help because his mind would be on her, and Fox would probably shoot me before he shot anyone else.
My arm where I’d been shot screamed at me, but I didn’t give a shit. All I could think to do was take out as many men beneath the Ivanovs as I could.
“We haven’t gotten any more to kill tonight,” Jack said as the guys wrapped up the latest body.
“Call me when you do.” I turned on my heel, got into my SUV, and pulled away, a car filled with my guys following me.
My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.
“Hello.”
“Where the fuck are you?” Cole’s deep growl came over the line.
“Working.”
“Yeah? Alone? What the fuck?”
“I have men with me. I’m coming home soon.”
Cole was quiet for a moment. “Are you OK?”
“No,” I answered, my throat aching from holding back my emotions.
He sighed. “Get home safely. Everyone is asleep.”
“How is she?”
“Quiet,” Cole said. “Not herself.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.
“Go to bed, Cole. I’ll be there soon.”
“Are you really on the way home?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Just… don’t get dead, brother.”
“Never.” I disconnected the call and continued to drive.
I didn’t go straight home. I stopped at a liquor shop and grabbed a few bottles of scotch before returning to my car and continuing on my way.
I spent the next hour and a half driving around the city to see if I could spot anyone on the streets.
My guys still trailed me. By three in the morning, I was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed, so I made my way home and parked my Escalade in the garage before entering the house and setting up the security system.
I took my alcohol into my office and sat in my chair before I nursed the booze, a sugar stick in my hand. I sat in front of the lit fireplace in the dark, smoking and drinking, my shirt off, wondering what the turning point in my life was to bring me to this spot.
This wasn’t what I ever wanted. I always thought my father would continue to work.
I’d go to college and get some shitty law degree before resigning to work for my father in that aspect.
Never this, although deep down, I knew it was where I was headed.
You weren’t born an heir to a powerful mafia don and not follow in his footsteps.
I didn’t hear her come in, but she slid onto my lap and nestled against me. I put my glass of scotch down, drunk and high off my ass, and wrapped my arms around her. Neither of us spoke for a long time before she slid off my lap and went to her knees before me, her hands on my belt.
She hesitated for a moment, her brows crinkling.
“What happened to your arm?”
“I got shot,” I said softly.
“What?” Her green eyes flashed with worry, the flames from the fireplace dancing in them.
“It’s not a big deal. It was clean. I’m fine.”
“You were shot,” she whispered.
I reached out and cradled her face. “And I’m fine, baby.”
She said nothing for a long time before she reached out again for my belt, her fingers fumbling to get my pants undone.