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Eyes burning with agony, he slams a fist into his chest. “What the fuck do you want from me, Luciana? I told you what would happen. You’re my property. You don’t want to be my slut anymore. Fine with me.”

I slap him to stop his vile words, intent on hurting me. A hysterical laughter bubbles out of me. “I bought lingerie today. I wanted to seduce you. In my stupid heart, I believed you would finally give me what I’ve been dying for… but I will never get you or your love back. Burn them and do whatever the fuck you want with me. I am your whore and nothing else. I won’t forget my place from now on.”

That I delivered my speech without breaking down is a miracle. I was never afraid to show Enzo my vulnerabilities, my fears, and my dreams, but he keeps pushing me away.

There’s no point delving into the past, hoping for redemption, and believing in more. Our love story is irreparable.

“Kill,” I call out, and the pup follows me up the stairs.

The moment I am ensconced in the bedroom, I slink down the door. Breaking apart, I cry—cry until my eyes are dry and my soul empty of stupid wishes.

Kill licks my tears and rests his head in my lap. I pet him absentmindedly. I don’t know about other dogs, but he is amazing. I love Kill so much. He’s pure and loves me unconditionally. He’s way better than humans, that’s for sure.

I hear Enzo pacing the hallway, and I hold my breath as the door handle turns, but then he retreats.He won’t fight for me.

I pull myself up, and I drop onto the bed, not caring about anything else but to forget my misery for a while.

My sleep is restless. I toss and turn, not finding a modicum of peace. It doesn’t surprise me when I wake up in the middle of the night. It’s strange waking up in my bed, not deliciously sore in his.

I miss the closeness, how he holds me during the night, with him staying inside of me and not letting an inch of space between us.

When he thinks I am asleep, he caresses my body, whispering how beautiful I am, how he’ll never let me go, how the one who’s really in control is me. But the moment the sun rises, announcing a new day, he erects all the walls again, leaving me on the outside to pummel them, screaming for him to “Try. Give us another chance. We deserve it. I fucking deserve it, as I’ll be yours forever.” Is that so unfathomable to him? I refuse to believe our love isn’t stronger than our mistakes.

I’ve taken all he dished my way to atone so he can feel better about still loving me. Yet, he refuses to give me more of him.

As I roll out of bed, I am mad again—the anger is so potent, simmering under my skin. I am determined to give him another piece of my mind.

I dart to his room, but he’s not here. Stomping downstairs, I see Enzo by the window in the living room, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He looks as if he hasn’t slept at all. Actually, he’s dressed just like he was last night.

I watch his reflection in the window. I know he knows I am here. His chest heaves and his jaw clenches, but he refuses to acknowledge me, which reignites my fury.

“And by the fucking way, because apparently you don’t want to see or accept it. I knew what I was shooting at. I aimed for your damn pendant.”

“I know.”

Wait. What? Confused by his answer, I am at a loss for a response. It dawns on me that maybe he doesn’t have feelings for me any longer. That while he loves to fuck me, he doesn’t have to love me for that. No, I refuse to believe that.

He turns to me, looking disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up below his elbow, hair mussed as if he threaded his hand too many times through it.

“I am done playing with you, Luciana,” he says, voice distant, as if he’s trapped somewhere else. His intense gaze bores into me. He stares at me, as if it’s the last time he can do that. The dichotomy tears me apart, splitting my sanity in two.

I never thought there would be an actual expiration date to this. “Are you drunk? You’re setting me free?” I ask, just to be sure.

“I know who your parents were,” he says, the corners of his lips turning down.

I suck in a breath, my heart galloping. Afraid I will faint, on unsteady legs, I walk toward the sofa and sink down. Were, so they’re not alive anymore.

“Your real name is Julia Morozov, and your brother is the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, Mikail Morozov. Your fuckingarrogance and hubris must be genetic. You were born a princess, but just of the underworld.”

The information rolls over me, causing a train wreck in my head. Enzo has no reason to lie. Mikail is my brother. I can’t even remember how many times I wanted to kill him. Can my life be more ironic than this? He’s vicious and deadly, and I couldn’t have chosen a better person for a brother. That doesn’t mean we’ll get along now that we’re siblings.

A headache pulses between my temples, and I hold my face between my palms, trying to ease the pressure. “How long have you known?”

“I found it out after you left me.”

My first thought is to go back in my mind and imagine what would have happened if I stayed, but what good would it do me?

My life is a mess, just like everything else around me. I wish Enzo would hold me tight while I make sense of what this means for me. I need him to stay by my side and help me navigate through the changes as I deal with the implications of basically losing the only identity I know. But I don’t always get what I want.