Chapter 24 Always You
Always You
No one speaks Italian properly here. The accents are wrong. They’ve changed some of the words too. —Need you, Enzo
Enzo
The email sits in my inbox—taunting me, mocking me. I drum my fingers on the desk, debating.
From: [email protected]
Subject: The woman you’re protecting
I open it.
Mr. Russo,
You might think that Isolde Delaney is an innocent woman. But she is far from it.
My jaw clenches at the sight of her name next to his. I force myself to keep reading.
Attached you’ll find information on a group named Phoenix. Perhaps you’ve heard of them.
Of course I have. Nate won’t shut up about how incredible they are.
Isolde is part of that organization. Her marriage to me was a ploy—one designed to get information on me.
I’m not foolish enough to pretend what she was after is false. I’m merely suggesting you think carefully about the woman warming your bed—when, for the last two years, she’s been warming mine, all the while plotting my downfall.
I’m not the only one with unsavory habits.
You’ve been warned.
L. Delaney
Congressman Electoral Candidate
Blood rushes to my ears, anger thrumming through my veins.
It makes sense—the strange phone calls, the whispered words, her ulterior motives for the marriage.
“Izzy!”
Her footsteps pad closer until she’s pushing open the office door.
She worries her lip with her teeth, brow furrowed. “Hey?”
My jaw clenches, but I force my posture to remain relaxed as I lift a single brow. “Phoenix?”
I expect her to deflect. To pretend.
I’m shocked when she deflates, like the fight is leaving her. “How did you find out?”
“Lucas.” The name is spat from my lips.
Her eyes widen, lips parting into a little ‘o’ shape. I hate the way it makes me imagine her on her knees, that same mouth opened wide as she swallows my cock.
Now is not the time to be getting hard.
“You’re not even trying to deny it?” I ask, rising from my seat and moving around the desk to lean against it, my fingers curling around the wood.
She shakes her head. “I never wanted to hide it.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because it’s not just about me. No one knows who we are—no one ever can. There are hundreds of agents worldwide, all undercover in some state or other. I couldn’t tell you.”
“You’re telling me now.”
She huffs. “Nothing you don’t already know.”
“Was any of it real?”
She screws her face up in confusion. “Was what real?”
“This. That night. Any of it?”
She flinches, as if I’ve slapped her. “How could you ask me that?” she whispers, voice cracking.
I yearn to pull her into my arms and whisper soothing words. But I don’t.
“You just admitted you’re part of an undercover operation. That means you’re a master at lying. How am I supposed to know what’s real?”
She takes a step forward, invading my space, her face a mask of quiet fury.
“All of it was real,” she spits, venom in her tone.
“Every second that they defiled my body was fucking real. I felt it. I lived it. And I came to you because I knew you could keep me safe—yes. But I can also keep myself safe, Enzo. Phoenix could have kept me safe.”
Each word spat at me is like a knife to the gut. She's right. She's not helpless, and yet she came to me. “Then why ask for me?”
She throws her hands up in frustration. “Because when I thought I was dying, there was only one person I wanted to see. Only one person’s face came to mind.”
My heart beats painfully in my chest.
She takes a step back.
“I came to you because I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven years old and didn’t know what love meant. My heart fucking beats for you—only you. Always you.” She shakes her head. “That was real.”
“Iz—”
She silences me with a hand. “Don’t. I can’t look at you right now.”
The last thing I see before she turns and flees is a single tear trailing down her cheek.
Izzy
I slam the bedroom door shut, my back hitting the wall as my knees buckle. Sobs wrack my body, shoulders shaking. Every breath feels like a thousand tiny cuts down my throat.
I can’t stay here. Not anymore. It’s clear now—Enzo will never feel the same way I do. If he did, he never would have believed I lied about what Lucas did to me.
It’s time to go.
I force myself to breathe until the worst of the tears dry, then push off the floor. Grabbing a backpack from the closet, I shove in a few clothes. Not much. Leaving behind all the beautiful things Noemi picked out for me stings more than I expected.
Sadness twists in my chest. I wish I could keep the friendship I’ve been building with her. But her loyalty will always belong to Enzo first.
I change into some sweats and a pullover hoodie—both for warmth and to keep myself less visible.
Once packed, I crack the door open and slip into the quiet living area, careful not to make a sound. From under the sofa, I retrieve one of the guns Enzo hides around the apartment. My hands tremble as I tuck it into the bag.
Distracting Henry will be the hardest part.
The elevator doors open, and, for a moment, I pause. I take one last look around the apartment, forcing myself to swallow back my heartache.
I step into the elevator, pressing the ground-floor button, holding my breath as the doors slide shut. Any second, I expect Enzo to storm in, drag me back. But he doesn’t.
When I reach the lobby, it's not Henry at the reception desk. I breathe a sigh of relief.
I'm not sure of this guys name, but he's there whenever Henry is on a break.
“Hi!” I chirp, forcing brightness into my expression. “We ran out of milk, and I desperately want a hot chocolate—so I’m just running out to grab some.” The lie slips off my tongue easily.
The man frowns. “I can call someone to—”
“No!” I cut him off too quickly, then soften my voice. “No, it’s fine. I won’t be long.”
He hesitates. “I should call Enzo.”
I wave him off, aiming for nonchalance. “I’ll be five minutes. He’s busy in his office, no need to disturb him.”
Eventually, he nods.
And then I’m gone.