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I watch as the impact of my words hit him. His jaw clenches before his eyes fall shut.
“Fuck!” Enzo yells, punching the wall hard.
I flinch. He only punches the wall once before interlocking his arms behind his neck, trying to regain some control. My heart is still thudding in my chest as I watch him. When he finally looks at me, some of the emotion in his eyes has ebbed.
“That was a little dramatic,” he says dryly.
“Did it work?” I ask hopefully.
He doesn’t reply. He pulls his phone out and sends a text. Two seconds later, two men appear in the foyer.
“Lock her up in a room,” he orders, gesturing at Denise with a gun. “No one goes in or out.”
Relief nearly cracks my heart in two. “Thank you,” I whisper as the men move to do just that.
Denise doesn’t even put up a fight as she’s led away.
“Don’t thank me yet, baby. I have a half a mind to lock her in a mental hospital,” he tells me.
A small smile touches my lips. “That might be ideal. She needs help.”
He pulls me into his arms and I rest my head against his chest. I can feel his heart racing. He runs his hand down my spine before it settles in my hair. He holds me even closer.
“You have no idea how terrified I was when I saw her pointing that gun at you,” Enzo whispers.
“I thought you weren’t scared of anything,” I mumble, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“I’m scared of one thing,” he says. “Losing you.”
I swallow softly as those words warm my chest. “And needles,” I add with a small smile.
“You’re annoying,” he mutters, and I laugh. He finally pulls away after a minute or two. “We should probably go to the hospital and check on Maria.”
I stare at him for a second. I can’t believe that despite everything that’s happened, he’s worried about her. It’s proof of what I’ve always known. That he has a heart. He might hide it, but he does. I want nothing more than to climb into bed with him, but I’m also worried about Maria and how she is.
We go to the hospital and after confirming that she’ll be okay, Enzo drives us back home. As soon as we step through the walls of our bedroom, he says four words to me.
“It happened on Christmas Day.”
My heart stalls and my legs fall to a stop. I look up at him for an explanation.
“My parents,” he tells me. “They died on Christmas Day. We were having Christmas dinner when they were killed. I remember being so happy one moment because I had gotten exactly what I wanted. And in the next moment, my happiness turned to ash.”
He brushes a thumb against my cheek.
“That’s why I can’t marry you that day, baby. Because it’s the worst day of my life,” he says softly. “And I should have told you when you asked, but you said you love it so much. And I couldn’t bear the thought of saying something that would cast a cloud over your joy. Christmas is yours,principessa. I didn’t want to take it away from you.”
A searing ache cuts a path across my chest.
“I understand,” I breathe.
That night, I hold him in our bed as he breaks down and mourns the loss of his parents. He may have lost them twenty years ago, but now the pain is raw and acute, especially since there’s no means of escape, no release. There’s no one to kill and no one upon whom to exact his revenge.
And I know it’s not fair, but a part of me is glad that it’s all over. He can stop now. He can stop hiding, shutting his emotions out. I wish I could have realized that revenge was his ultimate goal. Enzo always gave everyone parts of himself because if he couldn’t trust his own family members, he couldn’t trust anyone. And now that I understand him at his core, I’m going to help him find himself again.
Every single tiny sliver of him, every part. I’ll stop at nothing until I put him together. Until the man I’ve fallen in love with is whole again.
CHAPTER 17
