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He says nothing more, and I don't challenge him again because I’m afraid if I do, I'll break down and that's not what I want him to see. Instead, I hold my head up high, even though I'm clearly defeated in this war between us.
"Tonight, you'll dine with me, and wear something respectable," he tells me coolly once he's done and leaves me in the studio like nothing more than an afterthought.
My eyes burn as tears brim behind my lashes. I don't blink. I don't allow myself to cry because if I do, I'll never stop. Perhaps my plan will fail. Maybe I'm not strong enough to make the king fall. Maybe I'm nothing more than a lost princess.
Chapter 11
Enzo
To say that I've hidden in my office since I left Luna in the studio would be an understatement. I watched her crying on the small screen. The camera focused on the soft way her lower lip trembled, how she gripped the steel bar trying to appear strong.
She's fragile.
Which means she can break.
I can't stop the smile from forming on my lips.
I kept the cameras on for a while after she’d gone to her bedroom in case she returned.
She didn't.
I'm sure she’s getting ready for this evening's dinner. I cannot wait to see what she wears.
My phone rings and I notice Mario's name on screen. As I settle into my seat and flick the cameras off, I answer. "What can you tell me?"
"I've just emailed you everything we could dig up on your wife," he tells me. I can hear the amusement in his voice, which grates on my nerves. I'm staring at the two black screens which look back at me.
"I would say thank you if I didn't want to kill you," I inform Mario, only to earn a chuckle in response.
"If you killed me, you wouldn't have a best friend that would die for you," he throws back easily, and I can hear the smile in his voice. But I can't deny he's right, so I don't respond. "I have one request though," he says.
"Oh?" Mario has been with me for years, and has never asked for anything before, so for him to even mention it, must be important. "You know I'd do anything for you. Within reason."
"I know." He goes silent and for a moment I think the line has died, but then he sighs. "My brother wants to attend Black Hollow," he says.
"I don't see a problem with him doing that," I tell him. "It's a place where he can learn this life, as well as get a good education. Your brother can get a degree in anything he wishes."
But then Mario admits to what the problem really is. "I don't want him in this life. I never have." I understand his side of it, but I also get the need for his brother to walk in the path of those who came before.
"If you wanted to do this, spend your life being by my side and your father told you not to, would you have listened? I understand why you don't want him to take the oath, but if we're around him, keeping him safe, I don't see why he can't be a soldier."
"If I had a choice, I may not be here, Enzo. Not because I wouldn't do anything for you, or the family, but there are times I wish my life was different. Like Thiago. Even though he runs the London outfit, he's allowed to live his life differently." His words hit me right in the chest. All this time I thought Mario was happy, and now that I know he's not, I want to do something about it.
Most times, I shut off my feelings and emotions. They don't have a place in this life, but for my best friend, I open that box and rummage around to make sure he's happy.
"Then go to London," I tell him, even though I pray with everything I am, to a God who hasn't been there for me for a very long time, that he refuses to leave.
"What?" Shock is clear in Mario's voice, but with it, is hurt. Perhaps he didn't expect me to say that, but he must know I would do anything for him.
"I'm serious." I push to my feet. "I want you to be happy. You're my best friend, and even though I would hate to lose you as my right hand, your life shouldn't be dictated by me."
"You're my Boss."
He's right. My father would roll in his grave right now if he knew what I just told Mario to do. Valentino stood by my father's side for years. Perhaps they had this exact conversation early on, but my father would never have given his friend a choice like this.
"Yes, I am." Stopping at the window which overlooks the city, I shove my hand in my pocket and pull out the watch that Mario gave me for my birthday when I turned twenty-one. That was twelve years ago. Jesus, time flies. I smile at the pun. "But, it's your decision, and I won't hate you for it. I won't have you killed. And I promise, I'll live even if you're not around to take a bullet for me."
