Page 28 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)
PENELOPE
“ B ut, Mama—” I started to protest, but she held up a hand to silence me, leaving me to contend with her common sense.
When I arrived, Amara was still asleep and Papà and my brothers were gone, likely in town for the festive celebrations—with the New Year around the corner, there were events scheduled every day.
The two of us were in the living room, where she was seated having her morning tea while I paced around like a caged animal.
“Sweetheart, you know I’ll always take your side in matters that concern your safety,” Mama stated patiently. “However, I honestly don’t understand why you left Enzo. He didn’t yell at you, right?” I shook my head. “Did he hit you?” I shook my head again. “Did he threaten you?”
“Well, it depends?—”
“Sweetie, it’s a yes or no.”
I sighed. “Then no.”
“Just tell me what happened and maybe I can help you see it with a fresh perspective,” she continued, patting a spot next to her. “Please stop pacing around. It’s making me dizzy.”
Why couldn’t she just take my side without this game of twenty questions?
It wasn’t like I could share with her details of everything that’d happened.
It would require that I disclose what I’d done two months ago.
Namely, that I had a one-night stand with a complete stranger who turned out to be none other than my betrothed.
Or the fact that I pleasured myself and then the stalker husband finished the deed for me so I’d orgasm.
Yeah, no fucking way I would ever share that with her.
Sure, I could’ve dropped a dramatic confession into the group chat with my girlfriends, but the timing was impeccably awful.
Skye was knee-deep in heartbreak over Nikola, my cousins were still recovering from the chaos of a botched engagement and an impromptu organ heist, Amara—a friend who just happened to share my sister’s name—had gone full Eat Pray Hike on a backpacking trip through Europe with her stepsibling.
The only exception was that Amara’s version was filled with more Instagram captions.
And Anya… well, she was busy waging psychological warfare on her parents to let her study from Albania.
So yeah, maybe not the ideal moment to unload my own crisis.
But then, as if my friends sensed my anguish, my phone buzzed.
Anya: I read a blue alien smut today. I’m never going to be the same.
Amara: Gosh, I didn’t know you moved on to aliens. Do they have big alien ?
I rolled my eyes, not surprised that Skye wasn’t commenting.
Anya: Yes, they do! How did you know? Have you read it?
Amara: You’re barely legal, Anya. You should put alien smut aside for a few more years.
Anya: Go to hell, Amara.
I tucked the phone away, focusing on my own predicament with an Italian dick who happened to be my husband.
“I can’t go back,” I finally said, taking a seat next to her. “I just… can’t.”
“Did you dislike his… bedroom performance?”
“Mama!” My face heated, and even my earlobes turned red. “Seriously, what kind of question is that?”
She sighed. “Well, maybe I didn’t prepare you?—”
“Please don’t finish that sentence.” I scrunched my nose. “For God’s sake, this isn’t the Middle Ages. I have cousins. Friends. The internet even.”
“True.”
“Why can’t I just stay here?” I said, exasperated. “The marriage arrangement has been fulfilled. There were no specifications on living arrangements. Right?”
“Well, firstly, I sincerely doubt that Enzo is the type of man to let his wife live elsewhere. Secondly, if you stay here, your husband is bound to follow, and tensions between him and your papà will reach a boiling point.”
“Papà will win,” I muttered, and she narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we don’t want it to get to that. But let me warn you right now, Enzo’s going to be pissed when he sees me.”
Assuming he lived to tell the tale.
Mama’s expression turned cautious.
“What do you mean?” I shrugged. “Penelope!”
“Well, I might have let a cat into his home. And then, um, covered him in catnip so the little furball could really get acquainted with him.”
Mama blinked, not following.
“Enzo’s allergic to cats. At least that’s what his stepmom said.” I tapped my finger against my chin. “A cat allergy can’t kill you… Can it?”
“Jesus Christ, Pen,” she hissed, staring at me in disbelief. “What happened to my sweet, shy firstborn?”
“She grew a set of balls,” I muttered. “Besides, he deserved it.”
“Because…” she urged, still fishing for an explanation, but I remained tight-lipped. “I really didn’t want to go there,” she said with a deep sigh. “But it seems I have no choice.”
“Go where?”
“To the past and my own mistakes,” she stated wearily. When I shot her a blank look, she continued. “You were too young to remember, but I did something similar when I married your papà.”
“Huh?” There was no fucking way that my papà tricked her into sleeping with him and then trapped her into a marriage. So, yeah, definitely not “similar.”
“I learned he deceived me,” she explained. “Or maybe it was just a combination of many different things. Anyhow, it all led to me running away with you.”
“I’m not following.”
“Fine, let me start at the beginning.” She sank deeper into the couch, folding her legs under her and getting comfortable before she resumed speaking. “The first night I spent with your father… I hadn’t known who he was.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was a ball,” she explained. “And he wore a mask. So, yeah, he kind of tricked me.”
“No fucking way.” Okay, maybe somewhat similar after all.
“Yes. And I got pregnant that very first time. My family tried to marry me off, but my potential husbands kept dying. One by one. Take a guess why?” I gaped at her, the parallels in our stories almost too wild to believe.
Minus the pregnancy, of course. “Anyhow, when the fourth… or was it the fifth? I can’t even remember…
When another husband candidate died, I’d had enough.
I ran, and I found myself in Italy. The only problem was that the Callahans weren’t allowed here due to a feud with the Marchettis.
So, one thing led to another, and Luca and I struck a deal to get married.
He also struck one with Enrico Marchetti to keep me protected.
That deal was the marriage between Luca’s firstborn daughter—you, as it would turn out—and Enrico’s eldest. However… ”
“He didn’t tell you,” I guessed.
She nodded.
“Correct. Long story short, when I learned about it all, I took you and ran. It was the wrong thing to do, Penelope. Luca missed out on the first years of your life. Nothing got resolved while I was gone, and your papà was almost killed.”
“What?” I breathed. “Who almost killed him?”
She waved her hand like it wasn’t important.
“The point is, I should have stayed and worked through it with Luca. We should have faced our problems.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” My shoulders slumped. “I just feel so… betrayed.”
“I don’t know what Enzo did, but are you certain it’s something that can’t be resolved? I see the way he watches you…” My head whipped to the side to find my mama smiling softly. “It’s the way your papà watches me.”
“He doesn’t watch me like that .”
“Oh, he does,” she claimed. “You can’t see it, but I sure as hell can, and so can your papà, which is why he’s so terrified.”
“ What ?”
She chuckled. “No father wants to see someone else rock his daughter’s world.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that. Enzo definitely does not.”
“We shall see,” she muttered.
“He doesn’t,” I protested, but the words tasted off on my tongue.
“Okay, okay, no need to get all defensive.” She smiled knowingly. “Now, I need you to promise me one thing.”
“Okay.”
“Give the man a chance.”
I rolled my eyes. “Two days ago, you snuck a knife and a gun into my suitcase.”
“I know. I still believe the Marchettis are hiding something, hence the weapons. Besides, it never hurts to have those on you.”
“True.”
“However, I do know that Enzo has feelings for you and he’s unable to hide them,” she added confidently. “That alone gives me hope for this marriage.”