Page 86 of Enzo

I chuckled.

Me: I promise, cooking in boxers is on the menu when I’m back.

I lifted my head and met my brother’s eyes. “You really like her, huh?”

“I do.” The answer was lame compared to what I actually felt for her. I was so fucking in love with her that I was terrified she’d decide I was too crazy, too obsessed, too much everything, and leave. I’d find her, of course, but I wanted her to choose me and stay with me willingly. Until death do us part.

“She seems to like you, too,” he remarked. “You’re still alive, so things must be going well.”

I nodded tersely. I couldn’t even begin to put into words how fucked up it felt to never trust a good thing when it was within reach. Would there ever come a time when I’d feel free from the burden I’d carried most of my life?

We watched each other silently, and something in my brother’s expression told me he understood—I just hoped he’dmanage it better when it was his turn to settle down. I often wondered how much he really remembered of the encounters with our mother, if the more violent ones haunted him in similar ways.

“She seriously fucked us up, didn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think of her?” His jaw tightened and bitterness passed his eyes. “I bet she’s laughing that maniacal laugh from her place in hell.”

“I don’t think about her.” Nor dream of her, thanks to my wife. “Not anymore.”

“I don’t either,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I just… remember.”

My chest twisted, realizing how badly I’d failed to protect him. “What do you remember?”

He shrugged. “She tried to kill you a couple of times.”

“She hurt both of us.” Fuck, that anguish on his face was gutting me alive. “She should have been put in a psych ward, not married away. None of it was our fault.”

“We haven’t talked things through with Father since he told us.” He tilted his head, thinking. “Though, I guess he isn’t really our father. He lied, Enzo.”

“He is our father,” I corrected him. “He raised us and stepped in when we had nobody else. The rest doesn’t matter. And this way, he protected our empire.”

“And that’s important,” he remarked sarcastically.

“It is, Amadeo. If he hadn’t, we’d be dead.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He studied me, his eyes scrutinizing me for any sign that I wasn’t being truthful. He wouldn’t find any. “You’re different. It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “She’s good for me.”

“Pussy-whipped,” he snickered, but there was no bite to his words.

“I totally am, but it’s more than that.” And I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

He rubbed his jaw, the stubble on it several days old. “Hmm, maybe I should get married too.”

I let out an amused breath. “It can’t hurt,fratello.”

Seemingly satisfied, he returned to look at the reason we were here just as a wretched scream pierced through the silence. Commotion followed, and I knew the horror that unfolded beyond that fence would trump any nightmare either of us had ever faced.

“So what’s your plan?” Amadeo asked again.

“I just want to scout the area. Get a sense of the guards’ routines, comings and goings.” A half-truth was better than an outright lie. “I need to understand what exactly I’m up against.”

“Duh, we have the entire Omertà on our side. Let’s call them in, the Kingpins too.” He tilted his chin in the direction of the camp. “The more the merrier when we take them down.”

“I’m not taking it down. I’m taking over.” The shock of my statement rendered him silent, throwing him off-balance. “Now, I really need you to leave and not look back.”