Chapter 41 Enzo
Istagger back, running my fingers through my hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My Lucy…she’s…
No.
“Fuck!”
She rolls off the bed, placing herself before me and my brother pulls a Glock from his bedside drawer, making no attempt to hide his intentions. He steps up next to me, both of us blocking her escape.
“Enzo Baby, please listen to me.”
The nickname once made me so fucking happy now burns me from the inside out. “Don’t fucking call me that,” I growl, pain ripping through me as I release the guttural sound. “You lied.”
“I had to. I had to get close.”
“What are your intentions, Katya?” Rafael cocks his gun.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy—fuck! Katya drops her blade in front of her in some fake as fuck show, “my intentions have changed.”
She’s a fucking idiot, thinking it will save her. I step toward her, reaching for her throat but she dips below, evading my capture. “You’re lying! You manipulative bitch.”
Pain flashes over her face, but what can I even believe any longer? “I did manipulate you both, but I had to. But please believe me, not a moment of our time was lived as anyone but the most honest form of who I am. I know that now.”
“Shut. Up.” I can’t take it anymore, her lies are like a screeching record, once an enchanting melody now out of tune and driving me past the point of no return.
“Please Enzo, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Fucking bullshit, I laugh. “You already have.” I lunge for her again, but she blocks me, rolling to the side. She’s now between me and the door, shit. I’m not thinking clearly. I let her maneuver herself for an easier escape. But I know my brother lurks somewhere, he won’t let her get away.
She dives for the door and when she flings it open, she makes it three steps before Rafael hooks his arm around her waist and slams her to the hardwood floor, her right shoulder hitting first. A cry of pain leaves her lips but she’s down no more than three seconds before she’s crouched on her feet, watching us both, waiting for our next move.
"Raf, please listen to me."
"Rafael!" I roar, "Fucking grab her!"
When she spins on her heel, making a run for it, my brother rushes her, pushing her into the wall. His gun lifts but she knocks it from his grip, and it clatters to the floor.
As quick as lightning, she knees him in the gut, forcing him forward, fingers gripping his hair as she forces her knee up again, this time into his nose. Blood gushes, running down his lips as she slips past him once again.
He braces his forearm on the wall, catching his breath and I take that as my go ahead.
I grab Raf’s gun from the floor and chase after her like a hound after a rabbit.
My arms wrap around her waist, and I take her to the ground, the gold chain around her neck snapping in two.
She’s small but unexpectedly strong as she forces herself around, back to the floor, haunting irises compelling my attention.
I press the nozzle of the gun to her forehead, and her lips tremble as she looks up at me. Her body goes slack, the fight from her fleeing as soon as I captured my pretty Belaya Sova.
“Mamma, where does that saying even come from?” I ask as I braid her long, silver-blonde hair. I couldn’t sleep tonight, so now we are sitting up in my bed, her at the end and me in the middle. “Loyal to the blood. Ruthless as the father. Devils of the night.”
I repeat the phrase Father tortured into Raf and I tonight. He made us repeat it over and over and if we made a mistake, he would smack our knuckles with a bamboo reed. Of course, my brother only has two welts. I have at least seven.
“Hmm, it’s a saying to remind you of where you came from and who you are meant to be.”
“Meant to be?” I ask, picking up she isn’t the biggest believer in the phrase.
“Rulers. Mafiosos. Heirs to an empire forged from carnage and ruthlessness.”
My lip curls up at the thought, Raf and I have ten years before we’re eighteen and officially begin to take over some of the empire. But even ten years sounds too short a time. “I don’t want to be like that.”
Mamma chuckles. “But not Ferdinand.”
“Who’s Ferdinand?”
“No one, milyy mal’chik.”
She faces me, her cold fingers gripping my chin. “You remember those words, Syn. Because you are half your father, but you are also half of me.” She brushes away a stray piece of my dark hair before her chin dips and she holds my stare with an invisible command.
“You may be loyal to the blood but also be loyal to your heart, you might rule as ruthless as the father, but don’t forget to be forgiving as the mother, and you may grow to be devils of the night, but you will always be my angels in disguise.”