Page 40 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)

PENELOPE

“ P enelope, please sit down,” Mama hissed from her spot on the sofa. “You’ll wake Amara with all that pacing.”

I flicked a glance to my sister, in the fetal position on the couch, layers of blankets covering her. It was only two in the afternoon, but she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Time seems to be dragging.”

My husband was coming home tonight and I was antsy. He’d been gone less than a week, but it seemed like an eternity. I didn’t like how cold the bed felt without him. In fact, the cottage, a whole three-hundred-forty-square home, seemed too big without him.

“I’m happy you and Enzo are seeing eye to eye.”

She smiled, her hands busy knitting. It was a hobby she’d recently picked up, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was terrible at it.

Whatever she was knitting now was destined to join the pile of rejects we’d all been graciously gifted.

In one spot, it looked like it was going to be a scarf, but then expanded to look like a blanket, before it shifted into a pencil-thin string-like thing.

“Did he ever divulge details of his mother? Was she crazy, or is that just a rumor?”

I frowned, remembering how he reacted when I mentioned his mom on our wedding day. I hadn’t brought her up since, hadn’t even given her much thought.

“I haven’t asked.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Right?

She nodded. “He’s been helping your papà a lot.”

“I’m surprised they’re getting along,” I remarked.

Mama chuckled. “Their relationship is like a river. Narrow in some places and wide in others.”

“Like your knitting.” The words were out and I smiled sheepishly. “A really nice river.”

“Liar!”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. A person would have to be blind to like this. No matter, I’m doing it to relieve stress.”

“And it works?” I asked in shock.

She shrugged. “Not sure, but it’s either this or kill some people.”

I bit my cheek, my lips twitching. “Then I’m glad you’re knitting.”

“Good, now please sit down and maybe take a few hours to open your books and actually study.”

I flopped on the chair next to her.

It was a sound recommendation, and one I’d attempted several times today. But like before, it would prove fruitless. I just couldn’t concentrate.

“Where are Damiano and Armani?” I asked instead.

Classes had resumed at my brothers’ high school, but they should have been home by now.

“Library.” My eyebrows shot up. “I know, I know. I couldn’t believe it either, but their location pin confirms it.”

“Okaaay.”

I’d bet they left their phones in the library and then went to terrorize Palermo, but I zipped my lips. I was a teenager once too.

“Any updates from Dr. Gvozden?” I whispered.

Mama’s eyes flicked to my sister, then shook her head. “No, he’s struggling to find a live donor. Never mind a dead one.” She winced. “That sounds bad, I know.”

I shook my head. “I understand. This whole thing has brought the ugly out.” I gazed at my sister, watching the bundle of blankets rise and fall with her breaths.

“Why not use me?” I asked slowly, not looking away.

“I could be a match, but no one seems to be taking that possibility seriously. We share the same blood type.”

Mama sighed. “Dr. Gvozden said you’re not a match.”

“That makes no sense,” I muttered. “I was able to donate bone marrow the last time.”

Mama swallowed. “I know. It was exactly for that reason we got second and third opinions. None of us are the right fit.”

“I know I’m not a doctor, but none of this makes sense.

” My instincts screamed, but I was starting to think it was my desperation to hold on to hope that was fucking with me.

“Maybe a part of my liver could help temporarily. It would be better than nothing.” I put my elbows on my knees and dropped my head, my fingers tightening in my hair. “We should seek more opinions, Mama.”

“We already have.”

I straightened. “When?”

“When I asked you not to come along with us.” I opened my mouth to speak when she cut me off. “We had an independent doctor come in, Dr. Milan. He confirmed what Dr. Gvozden said.”

“There’s still hope. Doctors are doing everything and her chemo should…”

A sob tore from her lips, she wore such a sad expression that I almost heard her heart crack. Or was it mine?

I stood up and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m sorry.”

I should have known better than to open my mouth and bring up chemo. We remained in an embrace for several moments before she pulled away, waving her hand.

“Nothing to be sorry about. I was being silly, that’s all.”

Except, I didn’t think I was.

Papà was on a conference call when I entered his office. I turned to leave.

“Stay, princess.” My eyes darted to the phone, and he elaborated, “I’m on mute.”

I headed toward the desk, taking a seat across from him while urgent voices filled the room. I recognized Uncle Cassio’s voice as well as a few others, all of them speaking in code. It was their way to ensure safety in case the lines were compromised.

“Is everything okay?”

Papà nodded. “Yes. We just learned that Atticus and his daughter Nicki are dead.”

My brow furrowed. Papà kept me out of the business, but I knew the main players, and I’d never heard those names.

“Were they important?”

He tapped his pen against his desk. “Yes, but it also puts us on alert.”

“Why?”

Uncle Cassio’s voice came through the speakerphone, interrupting our side conversation. “Luca… hello, are you there?”

Papà tapped the device. “Sorry, I hit mute by accident.”

Someone snickered. “You’re getting old, man.”

A round of chuckles followed and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Can you get some information from Marchetti, Luca?” Uncle’s voice was all business.

“Which one? There’re so many.”

I shot him a scolding look.

“Funny,” Uncle Cassio grumbled. “Your son-in-law. He’s running Marchetti operations now.”

“I can, but not sure why he’d know anything.”

Uncle Cassio let out a frustrated breath. “Because Nico tells me Enzo was picked up on satellites in the same geographical area as the two deceased. West Africa.”

My mouth fell open and my eyes shot to my papà. He muted the line. “Why is Enzo there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you talked to him since he left?”

“Yeah, we’ve texted. He said his reception was shoddy…” I trailed off, catching the look of interest in my father’s eyes.

“Well, did he say why he’s there?”

“No, and I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” My voice turned high-pitched. “You don’t tell us where you go either when you travel for business.”

“I don’t tell you kids, but I always tell your mama.”

“Luca? Can you hear us?” Uncle Cassio yelled over the call. “Did you hit the mute button by accident again?”

Papà ignored him. “Enzo being anywhere near Atticus isn’t good. It’ll attract unwanted scrutiny and possibly pull our family into some shady shit.”

“Why do you automatically assume it’s shady?” I defended him. “You trusted him well enough to handle your business last week.”

“Goddamnit, Luca.” Uncle Cassio was pissed, and so was I. “We can’t hear you.”

“Better answer him, Papà,” I hissed. When he didn’t move, I reached across the desk and hit the button.

He glared at the speakerphone like the men could see him. “I’ll ask. Now, I have to go.”

“Call me when?—”

Papà ended the call and my mouth dropped. “Did you just cut off Uncle Cassio?”

“It’s not the first time and probably won’t be the last. Now, about your husband.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I have no idea why he went to Africa.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “This is bound to end badly.”

“Why?”

“Because Atticus is… was… bad news. Nicki too. Always getting tangled up with shit we don’t condone. Anyone connected to them is perceived to be into similar shit too.”

I shook my head. My husband would be home today and I wouldn’t let anything or anyone spoil it.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“Atticus has always been ambitious, willing to go the extra mile to get what he wants. It never mattered to him who paid the price. Athena Marchetti, the daughter nobody knew he had, seemed to be the only exception, but even she doesn’t want anything to do with him.

We didn’t touch human trafficking; he did.

He would work one organization against the other.

Even Kian Cortes, who has connections everywhere, couldn’t eliminate him, only send him into hiding and manipulate him from the shadows.

He’s bad news all the way around, and Nicki isn’t—wasn’t—much better. Everything she touches, she destroys.”

“Well, sounds like it’s a good thing they’re dead, then.”

Papà opened his mouth just as the door to his office opened. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see my mother. It was better.

“Enzo!” I shot to my feet and ran toward him, throwing myself into his arms. “You’re home.”

He cupped my face with a large palm, the other threading my hair as he drew me in.

He rested his forehead on mine, his voice hoarse when he whispered, “This is the best homecoming I’ve ever gotten.”

Holding on to his biceps, I rose to my tiptoes and breathed against his lips. “Wait until you see what I have in store for you.”

A half smile pulled on his lips, but then Papà ruined the moment. “We have to talk, Enzo.”

His forehead remained on mine, eyes boring into mine. “Not now.”

“Yes, fucking now. Plan on telling me what you were doing in West Africa with Atticus Popov?”

I stiffened hearing the last name. Did Amadeo mention something about Popov? He didn’t say Atticus, it wasn’t a name you’d forget easily, but… yeah, definitely Popov.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Enzo deadpanned, wearing a tired but blank expression. His posture didn’t change, but a barely noticeable tension pulled tight across his chest before he masked that too.

Was he lying?

“Swear to me, son. Swear on your own life that you’re not in business with Atticus.”

Enzo didn’t miss a beat.

“I swear on my life, I’m not in business with Atticus.” He had to be telling the truth because nobody lied so effortlessly.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking my wife home.” He pushed a strand of hair back, then whispered against my ear, “I can’t breathe when you’re not with me, mia anima . I missed you so fucking much.”

His words settled like molten chocolate in my blood.

I should have pressed, asked questions, but instead, I let him pick me up and carry me to our little cottage where he spent the night showing me exactly how much he missed me.