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“Already whoring yourself out to your future husband I see,” Isabella says to me.
I look at her with a raised eyebrow. She gestures at my neck and my hand goes up to touch the hickey I’m sure must be on display.Fucking hell, Enzo.
Although, really, was I expecting to have sex with Enzo Russo without him marking me in some way?
“That makes no sense, Isa,” I mutter with a small smile. “I can’t whore myself out to my future husband.”
I’ve learned that the best way to deal with Isabella Russo is to kill her with kindness. She’s not a bad person, just hurt. According to Jason, who was all too willing to provide me with information, Isabella’s never really gotten over Enzo leaving her when they were teens. They were close as kids. Which is how I know she’ll forgive him. Eventually. And maybe that forgiveness will extend to me, eventually.
Enzo calls regularly, so I can hear his voice. So I can at least confirm he’s alive. And I pick up, sometimes. But other than that, I’ve turned to pottery. I once told Enzo that I only do it when I have to release a heavy weight in my chest, emotions I can’t handle.
And with his absence, that’s exactly what’s happened. My brothers, Elena, everyone’s notices something’s wrong. Especially when I turn up at the house every day and immediately escape into my pottery room. Roman thinks it’s because I miss Enzo, and I don’t have the heart to tell him that’s wrong.
Because I do miss him, with every fiber of my being. But I’m also worried that when he comes back, all our progress will be lost and we’ll ultimately have to start all over from scratch.
My eyes latch onto the glittering ring on my finger. It’s proof. Proof how much he cares. Because even before he knew me well, he was willing to give me a ring belonging to his mother. Enzo might like to pretend he’s all ice and jagged lines, but I’ve seen evidence of his heart within.
I might unequivocally be his. But he’s mine, as well.
CHAPTER 15
Enzo
The Russians are fucking bastards.
It takes six weeks to clean up the mess caused by the Mincettis while also ensuring that my businesses don’t implode. I have to give it to them, they’re thorough when it comes to revenge. Not only did they burn my warehouses, they took control of some of my drug fields in Russia. Meaning I had to negotiate with Russian thugs and convince them to return those fields while making sure relations didn’t turn hostile.
But now all that is done, and I’m returning home. I used to despise New York and everything it stood for. The Russo mansion never really felt like home to me, especially not after what happened within its walls. But that’s all changed. Because I know there’s someone there waiting for me. Olive skin, blue eyes. I missed Rosa. So much that sometimes, it was fucking hard to breathe. I wanted nothing more than to come back home and pull her into my arms, but I couldn’t break my concentration. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And now my heart physically can’t bear to be away from her anymore.
Now, nothing will keep me away from her. Unfortunately, I hit my first roadblock when I arrive and Isabella’s not there. Matthew and Maria rush over as soon as they see me with widegrins. It’s odd. A year ago, I scared the hell out of them, and now both of them are welcoming me with a hug. I’m surprised to find I don’t mind. I like it, even. In a very short time, I’ve come to care a great deal about my little cousins.
I ruffle Matthew’s hair after we’re done exchanging pleasantries. “Where’s Rosa, Mattie?”
He smiles. “She’s at her other house.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Her other house?”
Maria nods enthusiastically. “She took me there. To her art studio. And she’s teaching me to potter,cuginoEnzo. She says I have a natural talent. And we paint sometimes, too.”
“She plays video games with me,” Matthew chimes in.
I chuckle softly. Although unease slides through my chest at the fact that Rosa has turned back to her art again. I can only hope it’s because she wanted to teach Maria. Judging by how infrequently she wanted to talk to me over the phone while I was away, however, I doubt it. Something’s still wrong.
“You two go back to watching TV. I’ll go and get Rosa,” I tell them. I turn around, then pause, realizing something. “Where’s your mother?”
The twins exchange a look, something passing across their eyes before they look back at me. Their expressions are guilty.
“She left,” Maria answers.
My jaw clenches. “She left when?”
No one should be able to leave this house without me knowing.
“Three days ago. She said she was going on a trip,” she replies nervously. “Told us not to tell. Isa said we shouldn’t tell either.”
Denise leaving the house secretly is extremely worrisome for a plethora of reasons. I’m guessing she’s feeling better. The woman has never liked me, which means she could be plotting something. My hand trails over my jaw.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything to her,” I tell the twins to ease the concern in their eyes.
