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“What’s manipulative about stating the obvious. Michelle, you wouldn’t know any of us if Enzo wasn’t going to marry you. You sure as shit wouldn’t be the only thing he talked about when he called. You sure as shit wouldn’t be what’ll end up as distraction when that’s the last thing he needs. If he doesn’t know you’re safe, he won’t focus. Is that what you want?”
“That. That’s the manipulative part. If it’s that serious, then he can tell me himself. If he has access to a phone to tell you to issue me orders and try to scare me into following them, then he can call me.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“I’m just supposed to be the submissive little woman.”
“No. You’re supposed to love him enough to put his safety first just like he’s putting yours. He won’t call you because he’s terrified it’ll connect you to us even more than you already are. He won’t do it until he’s certain you’re somewhere no one can tap the phones or trace you. This isn’t some shitty Mafia movie, Michelle. There isn’t a single submissive woman in my family when it comes to this shit. They can defend themselves long enough to get to safety because that’s fucking common sense.”
“Don’t swear at me. This isn’t common sense to someone who knows nothing about this. If Enzo is safe where he lives, then why can’t I be?”
“Because he lives in the city where it’s easier for someone to slip in and get past even the best security. Because he’s trained to defend himself, and he has no limits on what he’ll do to survive. You aren’t trained, and I assure you, there are things you couldn’t make yourself do, even if you think you can.”
“What does that say about Enzo and your entire family if that’s the case?”
“It says there’s a reason we’re all alive.”
Anger seethes from every pore as I watch Marco restrain his temper. I’m pushing back because I’m scared. Instead of agreeing with him, my fight and flight instincts are pulsing through me. I’m fighting him, but I’m ready to flee all of this. But where do I go? Laura’s. Somehow I know that would wound Enzo far deeper than I’m willing to go. If I pick the Kutsenkos over the Mancinellis, I’ll end my relationship, and I’m certain that isn’t what I want. I just want Enzo home, safe with me, and making me feel safe.
“I’ve already taken off unexpectedly more than once. I’m going to lose my job.”
“Then open a private practice.”
I snort.
“For starters, I have a non-compete clause, so I can’t take a single client I’ve spent countless hours cultivating. And what major organization is going to follow me to a one-woman practice when they can have the resources of one of the top five firms in the country? Not just New York. The entire country.”
“Is any job really more important than your life? Is it more important than Enzo knowing he can concentrate because you’re completely protected?”
“Back to manipulating me. You know the only answer I can give to those questions, but you’re forcing my hand. You’re trying to guilt me and make me feel shitty.”
“Now who’s swearing?”
“Fuck off.”
I go back to my desk and sit down. I’m stubborn, but I’m usually not this stupid. I know I’m making a mistake, but I can’t bring myself to go anywhere with Marco. It’s like I’m frozen here. I don’t want to leave my office because that means entering the real world without Enzo. I trust Marco, but I don’t trust anyone as much as I do Enzo. Which I know means I should listen to Marco since Enzo sent him. But I’m too fucking terrified to go anywhere. I might just move in here and sleep under my desk. I watch as he approaches me.
“Look, I know I’m strong arming you, and obviously, that isn’t the right way to convince you. Please, Michelle. Enzo gave this order — and yes, it is one I will obey, even if he is my baby brother — because he loves you. I don’t know if you’ve told each other that, and if he hasn’t, I’m sorry to ruin it. But he does. He won’t stop until he’s certain the threat is gone. That means he can’t come home. If you refuse, then he will come back, and the threat remains. Don’t tear him in two.”
Marco’s tone is much softer now, and just that is enough to make his words feel less coercing.
“I’m scared.”
“I know. So am I.”
That’s not what I expected him to admit. It’s both reassuring and nerve-racking.
“Can I stay until the end of the day? Then I can call in sick in the morning.”
He hesitates, but then he nods.
“Are you going to tell Enzo that I argued with you?”
“He already knew it was coming. I warned him, but I didn’t need to.”
That just makes me feel dumber and like a monumental bitch.
“Michelle, don’t feel badly. We both knew because this isn’t a life you’re familiar with yet. It’s a lot.”
