Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
ENZO
Four.
Fuuuckkk .
Granted, in the grand scheme of things, he could’ve written anything down. Ten. Twenty. A hundred.
Note to self: when blinded by rage, don’t gamble on the number of men you’ll be fighting in a goddamn MMA match.
With a deep exhale, I pour another glass of Macallan 72, letting it slosh over the sides before tossing it back. It’s roughly the price of a Mercedes, but damn, it does wonders for taking the edge off.
A series of light knocks taps the door. “Go away!” I bark. When that’s followed by a thunderous round of loud ones, I get more direct. “Fuck. Off!”
Don’t they know I’m about to go balls-to-the-wall with four freakishly big men, and I don’t need to see them? What I need is to pass out and get my beauty rest.
And I definitely don’t want to see her.
It was bad enough that Bella left me, but for him? She’s been shacking up at Knox’s place all this time, and to add insult to injury, she didn’t even take Titan.
It’s a big, fat, fist-sized dildo slap in the face. So, back to my original statement.
I. Don’t. Want. To. See. Her.
I also don’t want her to see me die, so there’s that.
“Open the door,” Smoke calls out.
“Please, Enzo,” Kennedy says, her voice all sweet and innocent. I’ve seen her take my cock. That girl is definitely not innocent. No, sir.
“Do not make us break it down,” Dante warns.
“I’d like to see you try, fuckers!”
And because wishes really do come true, they break down the door to my suite and saunter in, smiling and unapologetic.
Dillon takes my drink like the jerk he is. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“Well, I haven’t. You want to know when it’ll be enough? When those four fuckers are pounding on me tomorrow like I’m a chicken cutlet, and I feel absolutely nothing.” I snatch the glass back, downing it in one go, then slump against the wall.
Andre has won. And the thought of that eats me from the inside out like flesh-eating beetles.
“Can I have a word with my husband?” the angelic voice says. Her words are soft and sweet—a siren’s song—and her perfect mouth is all I want right now.
But having her here, witnessing what’s about to go down—my inevitable death—is too much, even for me .
I grab Dante by the collar with both hands. “Get her out of here.”
“Make me,” he dares, stubborn as all shit.
I pull back my arm, ready to throw a punch, but his knee grazes my balls just enough to make me see stars. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground, wincing in agony. “You’re dead,” I growl.
“Tough talk coming from a guy eating carpet.”
The next thing I know, I’m being hoisted into the air and dropped onto the bed, the dizzying effect nearly making me hurl.
“We’ll be outside,” Dillon says.
When her soft body curls up next to mine, I resist. Correction, I try to resist. My dick is all in. “Go run to Knox.”
She slides down one spaghetti strap, achingly slow, exposing one luscious tit, and then another. “I don’t want to run to Knox.”
She hikes up her dress and straddles me as I prop myself up on my elbows, defiant. “You need to go.” Because if we do this tonight, there’s no way I’m leaving her in the morning.
So, I crack open my heart. The gloves come off. “I’ll be dead tomorrow, Kennedy. You need to leave.”
Her full lips pout as she undoes my pants. “How would you rather die, Mr. D’Angelo? By four men in a cage, or me, slowly fucking you to death?”
Is this a trick question?
She knows exactly what she’s doing with that raspy voice of hers, calling me Mr. D’Angelo and all.
But enough is enough. Playtime’s over. No more Mr. Nice Guy .
I throw her onto her back, flipping her so fast she gasps. “ Bella , I won’t tell you again. I. Don’t. Want. You. Here.”
“Why not?” she purrs, playing with my tie.
This woman. She frustrates me. She antagonizes me.
She shatters me.
Her father’s death is on my hands, his blood. I’ve hurt her enough. If she has any feelings left for me, I need to destroy them all.
Otherwise, Kennedy will stay. Like her father before her, she’ll try to save me. Then my wife will watch me die.
Her father’s death changed me forever. It killed all the parts of me that mattered.
And I can’t let that happen to my Bella . Not now. Not ever.
“I killed your father,” I wrench out.
There’s a long pause before her hands cradle my cheeks, her kisses so soft there might actually be poison in her lipstick.
Which, of all the ways I can think to die, would be perfect. Other than Option A, of her slowly fucking me to death, of course.
“You didn’t kill Da ,” she whispers against my mouth. “He sacrificed himself. To save you.”
At this point, she’s teary, and I am, too. A drunken flood of emotions slams into me with such force, I know what I have to do.
Finally, I say the one thing that I know will drive her away from me. For good.
“I don’t want you here, Kennedy. Because I don’t want you.”