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“So I had this ex-boyfriend, back in London. Tom. He’s actually Alek's best friend, has been since they were like eight, so I’ve known him for years. He always had a bit of a crush on me the whole way through school and whilst we were growing up but I was never really interested. Then around my 23rd birthday last year, he actually asked me on a date and I thought I might as well, we were good friends and I got on well with him so it couldn't hurt.” I stop myself and shake my head, slumping my shoulders back. “Come on, you don't want to hear about this,” I whine.
Enzo rolls his eyes. “If I have to tell you to get on with it again, we're going to have a problem.”
“Fine,” I say sharply. Resuming fiddling with a thread on the cover. “We started dating and it went well at first. It wasn't until about 6 months in he started to become more controlling, didn't want me wearing makeup or certain clothes like leggings or tight jeans. If I did, I had to wear a long top to cover my curves.” Enzo's jaw ticks but he doesn't say anything. “Then he started getting weird about me going out. He didn't like certain friends and then it was my job. And just to be clear he knew what I did for work when he first asked me out.” I hate that I feel the need to clarify that. “He didn't want me working, said he would look after me. He wanted me relying on him for everything. Anyway, about 9 months ago, me and him had an argument about me coming to visit Hannah here. He stormed out. Went and picked my brother up and he was driving stupidly when they got stopped by police. They found a lot of drugs on them and both of them were arrested.”
I snap the thread I was pulling and wind it around my fingers. “Aleksy pretended the drugs were his and Tom went along with it. I went crazy at Tom, we were screaming at each other when he just snapped. I'm not sure how many times he punched me but he knocked me out.” Enzo’s face starts to turn murderous and I have to look away so I can finish the story. “Told me that I was his property and I couldn't leave him until he decided it was over.” I sniff and realise my cheeks are a little wet so I wipe at them. “He didn't stop there. He threw me into a glass table, ripped my leg to shreds.”
I pull my leg from under the covers so he can see the scars covering my shin, weirdly I don't actually hate them. It lives as a reminder of what he did. A reminder that I'll never let a man treat me like shit again. Enzo looks at my leg and he goes completely still. He takes a sharp intake of breath and leans back again. Posture more rigid than before, face controlled but eyes almost black.
“I managed to get away from him that night. I waited until he fell asleep and I just left. Mum made me go to the hospital first. Broken nose, cracked cheekbone, bust lip and a concussion from the gash on the back of my head I don't remember getting. Fractured jaw that I later had to get surgery on to remove a stray piece of bone. Hannah picked me up from JFK twelve hours later and I haven't been back since.” I still have the photos Hannah took of my face for evidence that will never be used. I can't look at them without crying. It brings me back to the weeks following the assault. I was a mess, constant panic attacks and the worst thing was the moments of weakness I would have where I wanted to go back to him. I thought everything would be okay if I just went back to him. Thankfully I had Hannah there. I'm not sure what I would have done if I didn't have her.
I'm too frightened to look at Enzo again and he's silent for a moment before he moves closer, sitting knee to knee with me on the bed and takes my face in his hands. “You never belonged to him, Vita Mia. You belong to yourself.”
I place my hands on top of his and intertwine our fingers, he pulls my forehead to rest against his. “I won't let anyone hurt you ever again.” His voice is a promise, a threatening promise. “I’m going to take care of you.” He straightens and wipes the remaining tears from my face. “Where is he now?”
“Well, I never told anyone apart from my mum, so still in London. He and Aleksy are still best friends.”
He stares at me for a moment and then takes a slow, steadying breath from his nose. “What's his last name?”
I shake my head, pulling his hands on my lap and dipping my head to catch his eyes. “I'm not telling you. If Aleksy finds out I've lied to him for the last 9 months he will never forgive me. I can't risk it. He's already going through a lot. I'm not adding to his plate.” His eyes go dark and I scooch a bit closer. “Look, I'm okay. I've healed. I'm a better person for it. If anything it made me stronger. Pain is just a lesson, right?” I try to lighten my voice and defuse the deadly rage that's currently radiating from him. His eyes flicker with something as he finally looks like he's hearing me. He swallows and his face turns almost worried. His lips part and then he closes them again like he doesn't know what to say.
He pulls his hands away from mine and rubs at his face aggressively. “I need to tell you something.” My heart drops because nothing good ever starts with those words. They’re the words that are spoken just before a lot of pain.
“Okay.”
“I need you to let me explain the whole thing, without interrupting.” My heart feels as if it's waiting to make its next beat. He can’t even look at me properly.
“Enzo, just say it. You're making me nervous.”
He runs his hands through his hair letting out a breath. “I've never told you any details about what I do but you're obviously aware about our issue with the Russians, the ones who shot up the restaurant on our first date?”
I screw my face up in confusion. “Yes?”
“Well, the Irish mafia here have also had problems with them. We have a long bloody history with the Irish too but there's the saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“Get to the point, Enzo, You're freaking me out.” I've never seen him like this. He knows what to say in every situation but he doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say. He's waffling and looks nervous as hell.
He actually stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of the bed. “Before I met you, my father and I came to an agreement with the head of the Irish mafia, Sean Murphy. The agreement was to put our differences aside and become allies so we could work together to deal with the Russians. The only way both sides could put that amount of trust in each other was to have a marriage pact, a union by blood.”
“I don’t understand?” I snap.
He finally looks at me with eyes that could break your heart. “I'm engaged to Sean Murphy's eldest daughter.”
My heart feels like it's just been plunged into ice water. That next beat doesn't come. It stops beating. I'm sure it actually stops beating.
He's been engaged this whole time.
I stare at his face, the face I've trusted blindly. He's right, trusting blindly will get you killed. I can't even think straight. The rage building up is overwhelming. I feel like he's just snapped my heart in half and stamped on the pieces.
“You’ve been engaged this whole time?” It comes out barely a whisper as I search his eyes for anything that will tell me this is a cruel joke. Please be a cruel joke.
He stops in front of me, eyes wide and pained. “I didn’t want to lie to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you.” He makes a move to touch my hand and I snatch it backwards like he's burnt me. “Don’t touch me.” I snarl.
I get to my feet on the other side of the bed. I can't even look at him right now. I thought I could trust him but this whole time he’s made me the other woman. How could he not know how to tell me? For one you don’t ask for my number if you're already engaged. I point two fingers at his chest. “I trusted you.” I can feel the angry tears. I grab my leggings and forcibly shove my legs into them as quickly as I can. “What did you think was going to happen? “ I ask incredulously. “You’d get married and I'd be your mistress?” I choke on the last word. My vision blurring.
He runs his hand through his hair again, shaking his head. “Casimira you don’t understand, I can't go through with it. I’m not going through with it.”
I let out an empty forced laugh as I frantically search the room for my jumper. He walks towards me putting his hands on my arm and I round on him, pushing his hand away with more force than necessary. “You've lied to me this whole time.” I pause, look between his eyes. “How could you do this? Not just to me but your fiancée.” I let out a shaky breath. Just saying that word fiancée, it makes me want to cry. That poor woman. What if she knows? She must want to kill me. I’d want to kill me. “I can't believe this.” I choke out.
