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"What am I doing here, Enzo?" That's when I see the older man in the chair, bound, bleeding from his lip. Enzo doesn't respond, instead, he stalks closer to the chair, stopping inches from him.
"We need to have a talk, and I wanted the rest of the men here to witness what is about to happen," Enzo tells him, his tone icy, his hands fisting at his sides as he regards the chained man. "Now, tell me Valentino, have you heard what happened to Romano?" Enzo asks.
The man who I now recognize to be the one who stood by when my uncle brought me into the warehouse when I was first given to Enzo shakes his head slowly. But there's something about his demeanor that tells me he's lying. His tongue darts out to lick at the blood at the side of his mouth, but it's how his gaze flits back and forth at the rest of the room that confirms he's lying.
Enzo straightens to full height, towering over the man while sneering down at him. His face is a picture of pure rage. "Do you really think I'm going to believe a lying man?" he challenges Valentino, a sinister smile curling his lips. Enzo de Rossi is the epitome of a bomb just waiting to go off. Coiled like a serpent, seconds away from striking.
"You have no right to sit on your father's chair," Valentino spits, anger clear in his voice. "I don't know what you think you know," he says. "But I would watch my tongue if I were you, little boy."
Enzo moves so quickly, I almost miss it when I blink, the sharp steel of his weapon glittering in the yellow light that hangs overhead. His fingers curled tightly around the handle, and everything south of my belly button twists with the reminder of when he used it on me.
This time when he wields it though, there's violence in his stance, in his movements. The slick tip meets Valentino's chin. The sharpness of the metal pierces skin, and a small pearl of crimson forms on the silver. Stark contrasting colors remind me of who my future husband is.
"Tell me again what you think of me," Enzo urges as he slips the knife between the older man's lips. "Tell me how you think I'm nothing but a little boy," he murmurs, his tone turning dark, sending fear skittering down my spine. I've seen him angry, but this is beyond comprehension. "Also, tell me what happened to my father." The last few words are a mere whisper, but we hear it. All of us standing witness to what's about to happen, seem to hold our breaths as we watch the scene play out.
A croak of agony comes from the older man as blood drips over his lips. The dark red fluid soaking his pristine white shirt, but Enzo doesn't stop. He continues to press down on Valentino's tongue. Bile rises in my throat, and as if he can read my mind, Enzo pins me with a dark look.
"This is the man you're going to marry," he tells me, the husky gravel of his voice scraping itself over my skin causing goose bumps to erupt. "Will you want me after I'm soaked in Valentino's blood?"
A cry of agony escapes his victim, and Enzo smiles. "You're a fucking monster, your father would never—" At the mention of his father, Enzo's blade slides through Valentino's shoulder like a warm knife through butter. Screams and curses erupt from the older man as my fiancé's hand is stained in the life force he's drawing from his victim.
I thought I would be scared, but as I swallow back my fear, and the acid sitting in my throat, I realize something else, that Enzo isn't a monster at all. He's doing this because he believes this man has murdered Romano, who I now guess is the lawyer.
"Enzo," I call to him, hoping he'll look at me so I can show him I'm not afraid of him. When those dark eyes pierce me, I say, "I am yours. And I'm not scared." My words slowly reach him as I whisper them, and I notice the change in his expression when he realizes what I've just admitted.
I can't say I love him. Not yet anyway.
But deep down, there's something innate between us, we're tethered, connected and I want him to know that I'm not running away. I came into this wanting to break him, but I have a feeling he’ll be the one breaking me.
"You," Valentino suddenly spurts, his glare on me. "It's your fucking family who broke us," he says, his voice demonic as his rage consumes him. "You want someone to blame," he mutters, through clenched teeth before looking back at Enzo. "Blame her godforsaken uncle."
"What?" Both Enzo and I say the word at the same time, shock clear in both our voices as we wait for an explanation. I'm about to step forward, but Mario grips my arm, holding me back. When I glance over my shoulder, he shakes his head.
