Page 115 of Enzo

I’d been selfish and blind.

I swallowed hard, self-reflection painting me selfish. At least to my own eyes.

“Where are we going?”

His eyes widened for a moment before he collected himself. He must’ve been bracing for more of a fight. “The house I bought isn’t far from here. You can visit your family.”

“My parents will be suspicious,” I whispered. “If we leave suddenly.”

“They know about the house, remember? Unless you plan on telling your papà what you learned, and?—”

“No.” Surprise flickered in his eyes.

I knew that if I told my parents what happened last night, all hell would break loose. Papà wouldn’t hesitate to drag the whole family into it—and Enzo would be the target. But my husband didn’t deserve that—not after everything. And the truth was, I didn’t entirely fault him for killing those doctors. If they’d neglected to save Amara when they had even the slightest chance, then they deserved what they got. And that wasn’t even taking into account the rest of their dubious activities—like that man who’d lain butchered on that metal table.

God help me, a part of me even hoped they suffered.

“No what?”

“I won’t tell my family—or anyone else.”

Enzo pushed away from the windowsill and crossed the room, tension clinging to him as he sat at the table.

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “The doctors deserved what they got.”

And you said you love me, I thought.

“Trust me,mia anima, they deserved much worse.”

The pain from Amara’s death and the shock of seeing the doctors’ murders still fresh, I struggled to wrap my head around it. Yes, they deserved it, but I couldn’t understand Enzo’s involvement. Had he been connected to Atticus Popov all along and lied about it?

“Can you tell me everything? How you got involved in organ trafficking, who knows… Everything.”

His whole body tensed, and the air seemed to evaporate from the room. His eyes went flat, expression unreadable, almost as if he’d slammed a door shut behind them.

“I’m not asking so I can judge you,” I whispered. “Please… I just need to understand.”

He exhaled shakily and interlaced his fingers behind his head, gripping it tight like he could hold himself together that way. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.

“Cazzo… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start at the beginning,” I whispered.

46

ENZO

The last week had been hard, but I’d experienced hard before.

However, this look in my wife’s eyes—the woman I loved—took the cake. She stared back at me like I was a stranger.

She didn’t say I was a monster. She didn’t have to. Because I already knew.

My mother had made me into one way before I could understand who or what they were. They weren’t vampires and werewolves, nor were they the villains in fairy tales. They were humans. Women who promised to take care of their children, but instead projected hate onto them and tried to kill them. Men who made promises to sick little girls and failed to follow through.

I learned the truth too late. I killed the culprits too late. I was too fucking late.