Page 21 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)

ENZO

C urrent husband.

Those two words bounced against my skull over and over again as I hauled her out of her bedroom and down the stairs of her family home.

“Current husband,” I scoffed under my breath as I strode down the long hallway of the DiMauros’ Sicilian home.

“What?” Penelope paused, giving me a momentary reprieve from her small fists pounding against my back. “I don’t understand old man mutterings. Now, put me down or I’ll start screaming and my family will start shooting.”

I shifted her, relishing the feel of her breasts brushing against my chest as I slid her to her feet.

“Now what did you say?”

“I’m your forever husband,” I gritted. “Not current.”

She scoffed. “Don’t tell me I hurt your feelings.”

I ran a thumb across my jaw.

Feelings.

I didn’t have those. Not in the sense that she imagined. I just had an obsessive, controlling nature I couldn’t shake. One I inherited from my mother.

“Have you ever wanted something so badly that it gave you chills? Made you act in unprecedented ways?”

My wife opened her mouth, closed it.

I let out a sardonic breath, hating that she didn’t. If she had, she might relate.

I let the unspoken words fill the silence while she stared at me with disdain. But damned if I’d be the one to break it.

Penelope tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So you’re crazy?”

My laugh held a dark note. “Maybe.”

“And obsessed?”

“Maybe.”

She puffed a cloud of breath.

“How in the fuck did I get so lucky?”

I smiled darkly as I studied my wife, her five-foot-three frame somehow carrying equal parts spitfire energy and meekness. There was more to her than met the eye. More to this marriage too, although she didn’t know it yet.

“Tell me something, husband ,” she continued in a bored tone. “Are you more like your papà or crazy like your mama?”

The temperature in the hallway took a dive as my hand wrapped around her neck. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make it clear the topic was off-limits.

“Don’t ever bring her up again,” I growled, tightening my grip. “I’ll be good to you, Penelope. Faithful. Doting even. But don’t mistake that for weakness and fuck with me.”

Her pulse thundered under my thumb. All she had to do was let out a scream and her papà would blow my brains out. But she didn’t. Instead, she studied me with her big blue eyes, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Is this some fucked-up version of foreplay, you two?”

Our heads turned in unison to find Amadeo leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His lazy gaze was sizing up my wife before he turned to look at me.

I let go of my wife rougher than I should have, regret instantly filling me. I reached out to steady her.

“Or something,” Penelope answered coldly, slapping my hands away as she righted herself.

My mother was a sensitive subject, and that was undoubtedly my greatest flaw. I wondered how long it would take her to learn the rest.

“Well, whatever freaky shit you two are doing, you better stop it or Luca will kill my brother,” he stated, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t think he’s into glimpsing his daughter’s rough… proclivities.”

Penelope didn’t spare him a glance, instead turning to stare me down even though she was a foot shorter than me.

“Do that again, Enzo, and you won’t have to worry about my papà. I’ll kill you myself.”

Then she walked out with her head held high.

It wasn’t until she was well out of earshot that Amadeo turned to me. “Are you fucking suicidal, fratello ?”

“Not particularly,” I replied flatly.

“If it’d been Luca who walked in on that scene, you’d already be buried in the dirt outside. What’s going on with you?” He stared at me with a worried expression. “This can’t be healthy.”

He wasn’t telling me anything new.

I let out a heavy sigh, then straightened the sleeves of my suit. “I lost my cool.”

“You don’t say,” he muttered dryly. “Why were you choking your new wife?”

Fuck, when he put it that way, it sounded bad.

“It was hardly choking . I barely had a grip on her.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” he snickered. “Still doesn’t explain your stupidity.”

“She brought up Mother and it set me off,” I said, resigned, and pushed a hand through my hair. “She, like everyone else in our fucking world, heard about her mental instability.”

Silence ensued, deafening and condemning. It was so loud it hurt my fucking head.

“She wondered if I was like her,” I admitted.

“Well, we know you’re not,” he grumbled. “I’m not surprised she found out. You know how shit is in our world. You’d think these people would carry themselves like the brutal hitmen and mob wives they are, not gossip queens and soap opera wannabes.”

“Yeah, but if she learns the extent of it, she’ll leave me.” He nodded his understanding, but not even he knew the extent of our mother’s betrayal.

“Big brother, let me give you some advice,” Amadeo drawled, and judging by the smug grin on his face, I knew I wasn’t going to like it. “Forget the stalking and obsessing. Just fuck her into oblivion and make her addicted to your dick. She won’t leave you then.”

My fist collided with his jaw before he finished giving me his “advice.”

“Don’t ever talk about my wife like that again.”

And then I walked out and went to find my dark-haired, blue-eyed obsession.

After a short flight from Sicily, my wife sat next to me in the car as I drove us to my beach home in Naples.

I glanced at her hand, the wedding band and engagement ring fitting perfectly on her finger.

My own band matched hers. Of course, it was because I bought it, but there was no point in dwelling on the details.

If I’d waited for her to show an interest in tradition, I would’ve ended up with a copper wire laced with poison rather than the thick, solid gold metal I opted for.

“Where are we going?” she asked, and I waved a hand to the building we were slowing in front of. “Is this the… honeymoon spot?” Her expression twisted as she uttered the last two words.

I shook my head. “That’ll kick off tomorrow. My yacht is docked down at the marina, waiting.”

I turned to look at her, her soft pink lips and her shining blue eyes tempting me in the darkness. Her close proximity was intoxicating, and with each moment that stretched, my control seemed to diminish.

She met my eyes, her defiant streak clearly shining in them. And fuck if it wasn’t a turn-on.

I pushed the button to lift the garage door and pulled in.

“This is our home for the night. Assuming you don’t kill me in my sleep,” I said, attempting a joke. Judging by her narrowed eyes, it fell flat.

“And if I do?” she questioned. “Kill you, that is.”

Her eyes drifted to my lips, then back up to my eyes, and when she couldn’t hold my stare any longer, her fingers started to fiddle with her rings. I wanted to feel them against my skin, around my cock, caressing my balls. Just like I watched her caress herself in her bedroom mere weeks ago.

“I’ll come back to life. After all, I need to see you writhe and pant under me again.”

Her delicate brow furrowed as she scoffed. “ Again ? What, in your dreams?”

Fuck .

I said the first thing that came to mind. “It’s my English… you know what I mean, anyway.”

Luckily, she didn’t have the opportunity to protest and remind me that I spoke fluent English because I whipped open my door and stepped out. “Hello, Giulio,” I said, greeting one of my guards. “What’s the status?”

“It’s been quiet, sir.” I nodded. This house mostly sat empty, which meant there was hardly ever anything to report.

I walked around the car to open my wife’s door. She took my hand and stepped out, but I knew better than to think the conversation was over.

“Penelope, this is Giulio. He’ll be responsible for our safety while we’re at the estate,” I told her.

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Nice to meet you, Giulio.”

As we made our way away from him, she cleared her throat.

“By the way, your English is flawless, Enzo Marchetti. You’re keeping secrets, and I intend to find out what’s going on. Even if it kills me.”

I squeezed her hand, noting the tremor in her fingers, and led her inside.

“ Vieni ,” I said, guiding her into the hallway that connected the garage to the foyer. “Let me show you around.”

The grand tour didn’t take long, considering her mind was elsewhere.

“Your sister…” She tensed, her fingers tightening in my hand. “She’s sick.”

Her head whipped around, her eyes locking on mine. “What makes you think that?”

I stopped outside the primary suite, gesturing for her to look around. “You’d have to be blind not to see it. And then there’s the fact that your father keeps her away from everyone.”

“Not true.” She looked away, letting her hair fall like a curtain around her face. “She was at the wedding.”

“She was.”

I said nothing else, because what was the point? She didn’t trust me, but she’d learn to. Eventually.

She started to fidget again, twisting that wedding band round and round.

Her heart beat so frantically I could feel her pulse. She eyed the suite and said, “I’m assuming you’ll expect me to sleep here with you.”

“Yes.”

She pulled her hand away and ran a finger along the bedframe, spinning around to take in the rest of the furniture. “I guess my only purpose in this arrangement is to warm your bed.”

“Not the only purpose.”

She wandered over to the bathroom, her eyes taking in the massive shower and tub and the floor made of the finest Italian marble.

She came to the entrance of the closet that had a side for her and a side for me, both stacked with brand-new clothes. “And if I don’t want to sleep with you?”

“I won’t force you to have sex with me, but we’ll share a bed.”

“So no sex?” she asked, never peeling her eyes from the clothes, shoes, and jewelry that I’d accumulated over the past three years. Ever since I first laid eyes on her. “And whose shit is this? Your mistress’s?”

“I bought it all for you.” I moved to stand behind her.

“Let’s get one thing clear…” I breathed out, my breath fanning against her neck.

“I want you, moglie . I want you moaning my name, your pussy strangling my cock. Your mouth on me, your body writhing under me. I want it fucking all with you, Penelope.”

Her cheeks flushed, and even the tips of her ears turned red. Goose bumps scattered across her nape. I’d never seen anything so beautiful—she was a work of art.

“Not to sound rude,” she said, looking about ready to rip the band off her finger, “but I’m not like your… other women.”

I almost laughed at how subtle she tried to be. “I already told you, I intend on being faithful. There hasn’t been another woman for the past three years.” Because I was too busy stalking you , I added silently, deciding it prudent not to state aloud.

“You haven’t had sex in three years ?” she balked, spinning around to face me.

I crafted my answer carefully. “I haven’t been with another woman in three years, no.”

She puffed out a disbelieving breath. “Well, damn. Kudos to you, I guess, because I’m struggling with my abstinence and I’ve only done it once.”

Her hand slammed against her mouth, realizing what she’d said, but I couldn’t even pretend to be mad at her. She didn’t know it was me who tasted her that night at the club, made her moan and pant, took her virginity.

I took a step closer, running a finger along her neck, reveling in the softness of her skin. She trembled, and my dick twitched and hardened.

“Maybe we can help each other out with this abstinence, ah?”

It took her a moment, but she nodded.

“Get comfortable.” My voice was low, rough, almost shredded. “Check out your new things. Whatever else you need, just say the word.”

I headed for the door when her voice stopped me.

“Where are you going?”

“To get your luggage.”