Page 58 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)
PENELOPE
M y parents’ house was quiet.
The kind of quiet that only came after a storm, with the undercurrent of a promise.
The promise of healing. The promise of alliances. The promise of a better future.
Even Sicily, loud and alive as it always was, felt hushed tonight. The broken hearts and souls were on the slow mend. It would take years for Amara’s loss to ease in our hearts, and years to stitch back the trust that had been broken.
As I roamed the house I grew up in, I could hear Amara’s footsteps, her laugh.
It was almost as if she were still here, her spirit roaming the halls and watching over us.
However, I didn’t dare go into our old rooms. When my parents asked us to stay the night and offered them up, Enzo and I refused.
They weren’t ready to hold someone else.
Enzo stood by the window of our guest room, moonlight tracing the sharp line of his jaw. His once-shaved head now showed the soft return of dark hair, a quiet symbol of time passing and wounds beginning to heal.
His crisp white shirt was open, his chest rising and falling slowly.
He tensed when he heard me, but then immediately relaxed.
“ Mia anima ,” he rasped, not turning around.
My arms slipped around his waist from behind and I pressed my cheek to his back.
“How did you know it was me?”
He exhaled. “I stalked you for three years. I can identify your perfume, sense your presence, and feel your breaths.”
“Darn stalkers,” I whispered, lips brushing the space between his shoulder blades.
We stood like that, breathing together. His hand came to rest over mine.
“I was worried there for a minute,” he said. “Not for me, but for you. I would have lost it if they so much as scratched you, Penelope. Uncles or not.” He shook his head. “ Dio mio , I don’t know whether to punish you or kiss you.”
“I wasn’t going to let them hurt either one of us.” I gently turned him to face me. “Now, I wouldn’t be opposed to you kissing me and spanking me at the same time. It’s kind of kinky, and I’m curious.”
“I’m being serious,” he said, voice stern, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of fire he couldn’t quite hide.
I arched a single brow. “Then maybe you should tell your face that, caro marito .”
“What am I going to do with you?” he muttered.
“Spank me. Kiss me. Fuck me… Oh, the endless possibilities,” I teased.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered.
“And yet, here you are, so completely obsessed with me.” I winked.
A half laugh escaped him. “That I am, wife.”
He leaned down and kissed me, wrapping me in his arms like a protective blanket, and I knew that things would only get better from here. Not easier, but definitely better.
He scooped me up and slid us into bed, his body folded around mine.
Then he pulled me tighter, kissing the back of my neck and murmuring, “ Ti amo, mia anima .”
We lay in silence, two souls entangled for so long that we recognized each other in the dark. It was ironic, really, because when I learned of this marriage arrangement, I could have never imagined life with him.
And yet tonight… Tonight, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Penelope and Enzo. A wife and husband. Two hearts beating as one.
“I’m so happy. You make me so happy,” I whispered. “And I’m so grateful that our parents signed that marriage contract.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Me too.”
“You know,” I said, my voice growing sleepier. “Family sticks together.” I felt myself fading into a dreamworld, his presence a soothing comfort. “I’ll always stick by you. Even if the world turns against you. You’re my home, Enzo.”
The last thing I heard before my dreams took me was his murmured, “And you’ll always be mine. My obsession. My heart. My soul.”