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“His mother,” Thomas answers. “She pays the guards every week, and I’m not talking about just money. She fucks them too.”

I cringe at the image, and again, my instinct is to deny it, but his story aligns with what Nino told me. And I know Gwen would do anything for her son. What he’s saying isn’t that farfetched, all things considered. She has always proclaimed Enzo’s innocence, as have I, but now I’m realizing I don’t know him as well as I thought.

“Where is he now?” I ask.

“He’s in the visitor's room waiting for you and Nino. Gwen has already been by today.”

Of course, she has.

“Can you show me his cell without the other guards seeing us?”

“Not physically,” he says. “But I can show you.”

He stands up and heads for the door. I follow him out and into the control room. He enters his login details and pulls up the monitors, clicking on the thumbnail of a cell. Sure enough, when he enlarges it, I can see it’s not like the others. There’s a bed, a TV, and a refrigerator. He has all the amenities a prisoner could hope for in here.

“The guards like to watch him fuck the women,” he says quietly. “That’s part of their arrangement.”

My head is a throbbing fucking mess as I attempt to process all this information. Enzo has always made it seem like he was so hard off in here. For years, he has begged me to do everything in my power to appeal to the Tribunal on his behalf, and I have done it. Again and again, I have gone back there and pleaded with them for a case review. I have sunk hundreds of thousands of dollars into my own investigation, trying desperately to prove his innocence. For years, I have stared at the ceiling at night, too frustrated to sleep, thinking that he was in here suffering immensely. Now, I can see he has made a fool of me.

“I need their names,” I tell Thomas. “I want the identity of every guard who has betrayed The Society.”

His eyes widen in terror. “What are you going to do?”

“Leave it with me.”

The moment I walk into the visitor’s room, Enzo greets me with a withering glare.

“Where is my son, Alessio?”

“Nino won’t be visiting today,” I inform him.

“And why is that?”

There’s something in his expression I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. Perhaps he’s toying with me, but it seems deeper than that. Something is off, and I can’t quite figure out what it is. He’s too calm. I know Gwen has been here already, and I don’t doubt she got him as worked up as much as she is. Enzo has never had great impulse control. He flies off the handle easily, and I expect that from him. The fact that he isn’t right now is somewhat disturbing.

“Nino expressed that he is no longer comfortable visiting you,” I answer bluntly. “He told me you hurt him.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Alessio. You coddle him too much. He needs to learn to be a man.”

“He’s a child.” I scowl at him.

“Yes, he’s a giant fucking baby. You’ve made him soft, and I don’t like it. If he were with me, he would know how a Sovereign Son should act.”

I take a breath to temper my rage. I knew this discussion wasn’t going to go over well, but with every word he utters, I’m tempted to lean over and smash his goddamned face in the table. This is the same man I’ve stood by for years. The man I gave my unwavering loyalty and support to when he needed it most, but right now, he feels like a fucking stranger.

“He won’t be coming back.” I stare at him, waiting for the inevitable blowout that will surely come.

“Is that what you think?” he laughs caustically. “He’s my son, Alessio. If I want him to visit me, he will.”

“Biologically, he may be yours,” I clip out. “But I am the only father he’s really known, and in case you’ve forgotten, you granted me the customary rite when you were sentenced. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that means I have full discretion to decide who he sees and when.”

“Is that a threat?” Enzo narrows his eyes. “Are you actually fucking threatening me, Scarcello? After everything my family has done for you?”

“Take it as you will. I’m not bringing Nino here so you can torment him. I thought you were better than that, Enzo. I expected more from you.”

“My mother was right about you.” He leans across the table, snarling his words in a low voice. “That fucking nanny is wrapped around your dick so hard, it seems to have cut off the blood supply to your brain. If you think for one goddamned second I will stand for this, you will come to regret it. Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me.”

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