Chapter 14
Valentina
The restaurant was empty of guests. Papa had already left with some of my cousins. Meanwhile, the servers and custodians were clearing away the mess. Only Mom and I remained sitting at the center table, the pair of us sharing a slice of tiramisu.
“Wow, the chef really outdid himself with this,” my mother said.
Mom was right, of course. Our restaurants always hired the best. That was the only way to run a legitimate business. Too bad the one thing on my mind wasn’t the delicious tiramisu but the decadent kiss I had shared with Enzo.
I was supposed to meet him at his condo in an hour and my stomach was doing flip-flops at the thought of a secret nighttime rendezvous. Had he invited me to pick up where we’d left off? Or did he have something else in mind?
I shivered in anticipation. Even though I had tried to act like I had faked the emotions behind this evening’s kiss, he hadn’t let me get away with it. Somehow, he had guessed that I was lying.
If only I could do the same. Figure out when he was lying to me.
I still hadn’t figured out his tell. Still couldn’t read his poker face.
Which scared me, because Enzo had been good to me.
Not only had he made me pasta from scratch, he had checked to see if I had any allergies.
That level of care had been touching. And terrifying.
Because I couldn’t tell if it was real. I couldn’t tell if he truly meant it.
He might be acting like a gentleman out of obligation to the contract or to keep our fathers happy.
Enzo treating me right could very well have nothing to do with me at all.
I hated how cynical I was, but what else was I supposed to think?
We’d always been enemies ready to kill each other, and now he was treating me like a princess.
Worse, it was working. Enzo was making me feel good.
It had been years since I had such intense feelings for a man.
Years since it felt like I was being courted like an actual woman instead of being treated like a trophy.
He was making me swoony and out of control.
There were butterflies in my stomach. I was in a dizzying, intoxicated stupor that I couldn’t just attribute to the sangria.
Which was the absolute worst situation that a woman in a man’s world could find herself in.
It put me at his mercy, and for all I knew, that was part of his plan.
“How do you feel about him?” Mom asked.
I paused to think of the answer that I wanted to give her. Miserable, I thought to myself. He makes me feel miserable.
Because now he was all I could think about at any given moment.
Which meant that I had all these unwanted emotions welling up inside me.
Emotions that included a desperate longing that I hadn’t even known I was capable of feeling.
It was dangerous for me to be infatuated with anyone because it could serve as a distraction.
Distraction in our line of work could get us killed.
My preoccupation with any man was dangerous, but Enzo? Enzo could be my undoing.
Which was why I should have turned down his invitation tonight.
I knew better than to see him now that I sensed my attraction to him was growing.
I knew better and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse him.
I was getting swept off my feet by his attention.
The worst position for me to be in. This inconvenient attraction to him was a disaster waiting to take me down, but tonight I didn’t care.
The magic of the engagement party had made me into a vulnerable, emotional wreck.
“I suppose he’s a good match,” I finally answered, taking a bite out of the coffee-flavored dessert. “A girl could do worse.”
“Is that all?” my mother asked.
I paused to look at her. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Lena, your face has been flushed all night,” my mother answered with a laugh. “And the way he was looking at you. I’d say that boy is smitten.”
My heart raced. I could scarcely breathe. So my mother could see it too. There was something between us. I had felt it in tonight’s kiss but I had tried to deny it.
“I guess that makes things easier,” I said. “Having a crush on my fiancé is better than the alternative. We could be at each other’s throats.”
“Much as I loathe that family, I’d rather you two got along,” my mother said.
“I just wish I hadn’t been kept in the dark about the engagement this whole time,” I said, frowning at her. Mom had known about the arranged marriage before I did. Everyone had known about it but me. It made me feel like a bargaining chip. Like a prize to be offered.
Contrary to what I’d told Enzo, I was trapped.
No matter how infatuated I was at the moment, I still dreaded the wedding.
But I had also meant what I had said about him being my captive.
If he ended up thinking he could be my jailer, I would show him that he couldn’t cage me.
I would make Enzo suffer right along with me.
I’d give him hell of the worst kind and make him regret ever agreeing to this arrangement.
Putting my future husband in his place would be easy.
It was the state of my heart that scared me.
I could handle a man much more easily than I could handle my own emotions right now.
Taking the bull by the horns was painless for me.
Dealing with this inner turmoil, however, was something else entirely.
“I was sworn to secrecy,” she said. “I promised your father that I wouldn’t interfere. How could I get in the way of your potential happiness?”
So my mother, just like my father, thought this arrangement was good for me.
Papa had said that without brothers or a husband to protect me, he’d worried about my future.
He’d worried about my safety. Misguided as it was, both my parents seemed to believe that they were setting me up for success in the long run.
They were only trying to look out for me.
“I can’t stay mad at you, Mom,” I said.
My mother reached out to squeeze my hand. “Try not to stay mad at your father. He means well.”
I sighed heavily and managed a nod. “I’ll try.”
Mom wrapped an arm around me and hugged me. Then she got up to gather her things. “Do you need a ride, sweetie?”
No way was I going to tell my mom that I was planning a secret tryst with Enzo tonight.
If that was even what it was. For all I knew he wanted to meet so we could go over the prenup or some other business that held no emotional significance.
But I couldn’t bring myself to believe that.
My body was thrumming with the thought of seeing him again tonight.
This time, we would be alone and that held so many possibilities.
Once Mom left the restaurant, I texted Enzo to let him know I was on my way, then I directed my chauffeur to take me to Enzo’s residence.
After parking in the lot behind the luxury apartment building, I got out of the car and made my way inside to the downstairs lobby.
The security guard at the front desk greeted me with a polite nod. “Good evening, Ms. Romano. Mr. De Luca is expecting you.”
I greeted the guard then headed for the elevator and waited for it to come back down. When the metal doors finally opened, I got into the elevator and took it up to the top floor.
As I approached Enzo’s apartment, I was surprised to find that the front door was slightly ajar.
That put me on high alert immediately and I reached for the brass knuckles that I kept in my purse.
My heart thudded in my chest, and I started shaking with fear.
Every survival instinct implored me to run in the other direction, but I wasn’t going to leave Enzo in potential danger. Something was wrong.
Taking a deep breath, I slipped inside the apartment, following the dim light that seemed to emanate from the balcony. As I edged my way past the living room, I heard something wet squelch beneath my stilettoes.
Terrified, I stumbled backward, then fought to regain my footing as I slipped on the dark liquid, a trail of it on the floor.
First it started in rivulets on the marble flooring and then it flowed like a torrential river across the carpeted section of the living room.
I couldn’t see the dark pool of liquid clearly, but there was a metallic smell in the air that struck terror in my heart.
My stomach churned as I stepped onto the carpet to begin following the trail. It flowed across the carpeting, stopping at a heap that was propped up against the glass door leading to the balcony.
I heard them before I saw them clearly. Two men. One breathing heavily as he crouched low on the floor. The other man was gasping for air, each inhale a horrific gurgling sound as he coughed and sputtered.
My hands shook uncontrollably as I forced myself to put the brass knuckles on. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, and when I finally understood what I was looking at, my legs nearly gave way.
There, half sprawled out on the floor, half propped up against the balcony door, was my father. His white shirt was soaked with dark liquid and he feebly lifted his arms. Crouched over him was Enzo, the balcony light shining on him, illuminating the blood on his hands.
Enzo’s bloodied hands had grabbed hold of my Papa’s shirt.
A scream welled up inside me as I staggered forward. “Get away from him!”
Enzo froze. Then he looked right at me, a crazed look in his dark eyes. Though he was staring right at me, there was no recognition on his face. None whatsoever. It was like he was seeing past me, in the grip of a deranged bloodlust.
I didn’t know what hit me first. Rage, grief, terror. Someone somewhere was screaming. A hundred voices at once, their screams shaking the foundations of the apartment. It took me a long time to realize that those screams—all of them—were coming from me.
A surge of fury made me rush toward Enzo with all my strength. I jumped onto him, unable to control the hatred that was overtaking me. There was nothing rational left inside me. All that remained was the compulsion to tear him apart.
Kicking and flailing and screaming, I fell on him, too driven by emotion to think clearly.
Tears streamed down my face, my heart breaking into a million pieces.
I could feel each break, each crack that shattered what was left of it.
What a fool I had been to think that I might be able to care for this man.
Enzo was a butcher, he would always be a butcher.
Because even though my thoughts were clouded by bone-shattering grief I knew two things: my father was bleeding to death and Enzo had tried to kill him.
THE END