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“Y-y-you never d-did anything,” Denise stutters.
“I didn’t,” Enzo agrees. “I could have. After I heard them laughing and making fun of my father, I could have killed them both. I had so many chances to kill them. And a part of me wanted to. You have no idea how much I’m regretting not doing it now, Denise,” he says, anger coating his words.
“Why didn’t you?” Denise questions, her voice low.
“I didn’t kill them because while they might have given the order, they weren’t the ones who slit my father’s throat. They weren’t responsible for cutting my mother down. I saved my revenge for the man that actually did the deed. My uncles were inconsequential. Plus, they succeeded. They were idiots, but they did manage to kill my father so I decided to let them live. I wasn’t ready to become Don at the time either. They only lived for so long because I saw it fit.”
I can’t move, I can’t breathe. All I can do stare in shock.
“You’re sick,” Denise mutters.
“I really am. My seventeen-year-old self-rationalized not killing those responsible for my father’s death as being unnecessary. But I’m not seventeen years old anymore, and there’s literally no reason I should keep you alive. Now tell me, why did you try to contact the Butcher?”
“Leo never trusted you,” Denise says shakily. “He always said they shouldn’t have kept you alive. That you’d stab them in the back. He said you would kill him. That you would kill all of us.”
“I did kill him,” Enzo says, sounding bored.
“Yes. And I was terrified. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. Because I was the only one left and you were the Don. There was nothing I could use against you. I couldn’t get my children out of the house. I thought you were going to harm them. I’ve lived the past two years in fear of you.”
“So you went to find the Butcher to see if he could finish the job?”
“Not just you,” Denise says. “Her, too. I wanted you both gone.”
She gestures at me, which is a big mistake. The mask on Enzo’s face falls away, revealing the fury underneath.
“Don’t fucking look at her. And you won’t fucking touch her,” he growls.
“I can’t do anything anymore. I couldn’t find the Butcher,” Denise says, heartache clear in her voice.
My eyes widen when the gun in her hand thuds to the floor.No, no, don’t, I want to tell her, but the words don’t make it past my lips. That’s her only defense. I’m growing warier of Enzo’s next actions with each passing second.
Denise looks on the verge of collapse.
“He’s fucking dead,” Enzo spits. “He’s dead, and I’ll never have my fucking revenge. But maybe killing you will ease some of this fucking pain in my chest.”
He pulls out a gun and that pushes me into action. My stomach plummets, an icy sensation moving over me with the realization of what he’s about to do.
“No!” I yell, putting myself between him and Denise.
Enzo’s eyes are clouded over. But when I reach for his arm, he pauses, drawing a hard gaze to mine.
“Stay out of the way,principessa.” His voice is slightly calm, but the edges are rough.
“I can’t do that,” I say softly, but he’s not listening to me.
His jaw is clenched as he looks back at Denise. His hand tightens around the trigger of the gun and I stand in front of it, blocking Denise.
“Fucking hell, Rosa. Move!” he yells.
“No. She’s Maria and Matthew’s mom. Their mother, Enzo! They’re still your cousins, and they don’t deserve to lose their mother,” I plead. “More than anyone, you should understand what it’s like to grow up without parents.”
My chests heaves as I try to force him to look at me. But he keeps his gaze fixed on a point behind me. On her.
“You can’t kill her,” I say forcibly. “Enzo!”
He finally looks at me, blue eyes filled with so much anger and sorrow it makes my heart ache. I say the words that I know will stop him.
“If you love me, you’ll let her live.”
