Page 35 of Sworn to the Enemy

Serafina

Two weeks have passed since Enzo slammed the door on me, his words a string of ice slicing through my attempt to reach him. That night, his scar under my fingertips, I saw a crack in his armor I'd never seen before, but he sealed it shut before I could properly assess it, leaving me raw.

Now, our mornings are a ritual of hollow courtesies.

His “How are you, Fina?” catches me off guard every day he asks.

It's like he's mad at me for thawing the coldness of his heart, breaking his walls, but at the same time, he's not exactly mad at me. His voice is always low whenever he asks, almost gentle. I could delude myself into thinking he's asking because he truly cares for me, but I know it’s the baby he’s thinking of, not me. I’m just the vessel carrying his heir, and it stings more than I want to admit.

Last week, he called a doctor to check on me without a word, like I’m some fragile thing he owns.

It's not the fact that he called a doctor to check on me so much as the fact that he did so without informing me first that had my hackles rise.

I'd lit into him afterwards when the doctor left, my voice sharp as I'd told him I’m not his property and he has no right to do things without conferring with me first. He'd stood there, jaw tight, as I stormed out, my pride the only thing that kept me together.

The hurt festers like a sore wound. It's a quiet ache I can’t shake. I shouldn't be this mad over his insistence at keeping me apart. I should be relieved even at this detachment. He's my enemy. I despise him. I want no knowledge of his past. Yet here I am, two weeks after, still angry.

I know what it is. It'd dawned on me in the cold light of day the next morning after that night.

I'd shoved it away, thinking if I didn't give too much importance to it, the scales would fall away from my eyes, and I'd realize what I actually feel for my husband is lust, not love.

But the feeling persists. It gnaws at me, leaving no room for doubt as to how I feel.

I’m falling for him. I'm falling in love with my husband.

The realization hit like a punch, stealing my breath.

Enzo, my enemy, the man who claimed me in a deal to wage peace has slipped under my skin.

I'd been conscious, allowing his touch, his rare softness, to undo me, peel me open until I'm naked, my feelings laid bare.

I hate it. I hate how my heart betrays me, but I can’t deny it.

I’m shaken, my resolve fraying. I don’t crumble, ever.

But the hurt at his withdrawal nudges me, and I know I have to lash out.

I've been stupid enough to let affection get in the way of what was a calculated move to keep the peace between both families.

He needs to feel some of the angst I feel, so I go in search of him, deciding to confront him. He won't love me back. The only thing I can hope on is his respect, and I'm damn well going to demand it, not just for me but for the child I carry. He doesn’t get to treat me like a pawn, not anymore.

I stride through the manor’s halls, my heels clicking on black marble.

My black dress hugs my frame, my curls pinned tight.

It strikes me how much I look like a queen ready for battle.

I’m headed to his study, biting words lodged in my throat, burning, when low voices stop me cold.

At first, I think it's Enzo, but the voice is different.

Much older. The hairs on my body stand at alert.

I pause outside a half-open door, my pulse spiking as I listen. Adriano’s smooth tone slithers through, laced with menace, talking to a man I don’t recognize.

“She was mine,” he says, his tone icy, obsessive.

“Do you understand? Lucia Mine. He had no right to her, fucking Antonio Mancini. I gave her my all but, in the end, she chose that Mancini fool over me. So, what did I do? I orchestrated the accident that killed her with help from the Vitales. Then I framed the Rossis to spark the war, kept my loyalty to the family and never blew my cover. Enzo’s too blind to see I’ve been pulling his strings. ”

My heart stops, ice flooding my veins. Enzo’s mother.

Adriano loved her, killed her, and built this feud on her blood, all to hide his twisted relationship with the Vitales.

The fact that he's confessing to this within the confines of manor means he's either getting sloppy, or he doesn't mind being found out because he has something bigger in store.

My hand grips the wall, nails digging into plaster.

I know now why I always hated him and his sinister smile.

It's why he'd subtly tried to threaten me in the garden that morning.

He'd been hiding something this big. Perhaps, he'd been threatened by my presence, thinking his secrets will get leaked with me becoming Enzo's wife.

I have to find Enzo. This is bigger than his hate, bigger than our marriage.

It’s a betrayal that’s shaped his life, my life, this whole fucking feud.

I need to find him, to tell him, even if he shuts me out again.

My heart pounds, not just for me, but for him, for the pain he’s carried all this year.

A pain built on a lie spun by the very person he respects. No betrayal can be greater.

I spin away, my steps quick as I go in search of Enzo.

The manor’s quiet, its shadows swallowing my urgency.

I find Matteo in the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar.

He's polishing a knife. He has a grin ready for me as I approach, but immediately I get close enough and he sees my face, his grin fades.

“Serafina, are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes,” I blurt out. I realize how crazy I must look, so I let my face twist into a small smile. “Where’s Enzo?”

He hesitates, his eyes narrowing, but he answers, “At the cemetery. It’s Signora Mancini’s death anniversary. His mother.”

His words land heavy, a punch to my chest. Enzo’s at his mother’s grave, alone with his grief, and I’m about to shatter his world.

I don’t wait as I begin to head in the direction of her grave site.

A maid had pointed it out to me during my first week in the manor.

Matteo’s frantic voice calls behind me, but I don't stop in my strides, my steps quick as I move through the manor’s shadowed halls, heading for the deserted west end of the estate.

The air grows thick with neglect, as I reach the wild, overgrown clearing where Lucia's grave lies, hidden among tangled vines and crumbling stone. I slow, my boots soft on the earth, and spot Enzo ahead, a lone figure in black, standing over a worn stone. His shoulders are rigid, head bowed, and my heart twists, reaching for him despite everything. I pause, half-hidden by a gnarled willow’s drooping branches, watching him.

His pain is palpable, and I feel it like a pull I can’t resist.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t see me, and for a moment, I just stand there, my breath shallow. The man who’s claimed me, hurt me, is bared here, stripped of his walls, and it shakes me. I’d set out to lash at me, then I heard Adriano's confession and my anger had been forgotten.

I came here to tell him about Adriano's betrayal, but now, seeing him like this, I want to hold him, to ease the weight he carries. My love for him is new and terrifying. It surges. I step forward, my resolve hardening. I need to reach him, not just for the truth, but for us, for whatever we’re becoming.

I step closer, my boots soft on the grass, and call his name. “Enzo.” My voice is quiet, a thread in the still air. He whirls around, his dark eyes catching mine, and I freeze.

Pain rages in his gaze. His face, always so guarded, is raw and my heart twists with a wound that's so deep it snatches the breath from my lungs. I’ve never seen him like this, not in our fights, not in our passion.

My heart aches, reaching for him, and I move without thinking, closing the distance to stand beside him.

I say nothing, my presence is a silent offering, and he doesn’t push me away.

His arm slides around me, pulling me close, his chest hard against my side.

The hug surprises me, his warmth seeping through my dress, and I stiffen, then soften, letting myself lean into him.

His scent wraps around me, grounding me, and we stand there, wordless, the world fading.

His heartbeat thuds against my cheek, steady but heavy, and I feel his grief, his need, mirroring my own.

I don’t question it, just hold him, my love a quiet flame I can’t extinguish, even now.

I stay, loving him in this fragile moment.

Time slips away, the cemetery silent, until he shifts, his grip loosening. The moment is broken. I step back, ready to leave, to grant him this silent moment. Whatever I have to say will have to wait. As I begin to step away, his hand catches mine, stopping me. I drag confused gaze to his.

“Fina,” he says, his voice rough. “I’m sorry.”

I blink at him, destabilized by this shift. “Sorry?”

“Yes. I've been an asshole these past weeks, and for that, I'm sorry.”

His eyes hold mine, soft, real, and I’m floored, my chest tight. Enzo, apologizing? A genuine smile breaks on my face, my heart lifting. “You’re forgiven,” I say, meaning it. “But I need to tell you something urgent.”

He nods, his grip tightening. “Go ahead.”

I take a breath, the weight of Adriano’s words pressing down on my chest. I have no idea how Enzo will react, but I have to tell him. “I overheard Adriano in the manor, talking to some guy.” Enzo's brows furrow.

I continue. “He said he killed your mother, Enzo. According to him, he loved your mother, and it angered him when she chose your father, so he silenced her by killing her, then framed my family and used a Vitale deal to cover it. It's how this war was started.”

He doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at me, his expression unreadable. I try again, needing his reaction. “Adriano is behind it all, Enzo. He's been manipulating you all this time.”

I hold his gaze, willing him to believe me, to see I’m not his enemy. His eyes flicker, and I think he’s listening, but then his face shifts, hardening into something cold, something cruel. Fury burns in his eyes, not at Adriano, but at me, and my stomach twists, dread rising like bile.

“You’re lying,” he snaps, his hand dropping mine like it’s poison.

He steps back, his voice sharp, slicing through me.

“You heard this and thought you’d stir shit?

You’re trying to fuck with me, get back at me for shutting you out.

” Each word cuts deeper, and I flinch, my chest tightening under the weight of his anger.

“No, Enzo, I swear,” I say, stepping forward, hands raised, desperate to reach him.

“I heard him, clear as day. He’s been betraying you, playing you for decades.

” But his eyes are ice, a wall slamming down, shutting me out.

He’s not hearing me, not even trying, and it hurts. A raw ache spreads through me.

“You’re a Rossi,” he spits, venom dripping from every syllable.

“I should’ve known you were a snake, you, your father, the whole fucking clan.

” His voice rises, thick with disgust. “Domenico proposed you as my bride, and I was blind, thinking it was peace. It was a trap, wasn’t it?

You and your father, scheming to ensnare me, to sink your claws into my empire. ”

The accusation lands like a fist, gutting me, knocking the air from my lungs.

I stagger, my pride the only thing keeping me upright.

“That’s not true,” I choke out, my voice shaking.

“I’m telling you what I heard. Adriano’s the liar, not me.

” But he’s too far gone, his face twisted with betrayal, seeing only a Rossi, not his wife.

“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” he snarls, stepping closer, his eyes blazing.

“You slither into my house, my bed, and now you’re tearing it apart from within, spreading lies about my men.

You’re poison, Fina, and I was a fool to let you close.

” His words burn, each one a brand on my heart, and I feel the ground shift beneath me, my love for him cracking under the assault.

He leans in, his voice dropping, cold and vicious. “How do I even know that baby’s mine?”

The question hits like a vicious slap, stealing my breath. My hands instinctively fly to my stomach.

“For all I know, you and your Rossi blood planned this, too, to tie me to you, to weaken me.” The doubt in his eyes, the cruelty, rips through me, leaving me raw, exposed.

“I’m not lying,” I say, my voice breaking, tears burning my eyes, but I blink them back, refusing to let them fall. “I heard Adriano. I came to you because I care, because you deserve the truth.”

But he shakes his head, turning away, his shoulders rigid, his rejection a wall I can’t breach. He doesn’t believe me, doesn’t want to, and it’s killing me, piece by piece.

“Stay out of my world,” he growls, stalking away in the opposite direction. “You’re my wife, not my fucking ally. Keep your Rossi schemes to yourself.”

He doesn’t look back, leaving me by his mother’s grave, his words echoing, a fire in my chest that won’t die.

The hurt is a living thing, clawing at me, but I won’t break, not for him, not now.

I'd come to find him, to tell him the truth, but I fear I've put a dent on the already fragile relationship we share.

I clench my fists, my resolve hardening.

Adriano’s secret is too big, too dangerous, and Enzo’s too blind to see it.

If he won’t listen, I’ll find answers myself.

Papa knows more than he lets on, I’m sure of it.

He’s been in this game too long, and if anyone can unravel Adriano’s lies, it’s him.

I decide then, my heart pounding, to go to the Rossi villa, to confront Papa without Enzo knowing.

For his sake—for both of our sakes, I have to find out the truth.