Page 36 of Sworn to the Enemy

Enzo

My boots pound the manor’s marble, each step a hammer strike against the silence Fina left behind. Her words at my mother’s grave burn in my skull—Adriano, a traitor. Her voice had been so sure, so fierce. I’d called her a liar, a Rossi snake, but her eyes, raw and pleading, haunt me.

What if she’s right? The thought’s a splinter, lodged deep, and I can’t shake it.

I’m in my study now, the air thick with cigar smoke, papers strewn across the oak desk.

I’m tearing through my father’s ledgers, digging through old records.

Vitale deals from years ago stare back, notes on gold routes that don’t add up.

My gut churns, suspicion clawing at me. My mother’s death, the Rossi feud, it’s all a knot I need to unravel, and I’ll be damned if I let Adriano play me for a fool.

Adriano’s been my shadow forever, his silver hair and calm smile a constant. Could he have loved my mother, killed her, framed Fina’s family to start this war?

I recall a memory from last week. I didn't think to dwell on it because it had seemed insignificant, but now with everything going on, I decide to revisit it. I'd held a meeting with Matteo and Adriano, my two most trusted allies. It was about the Vitales fucking with my shipments again.

We’d argued strategy, Matteo’s presence a constant voice of reason, while Adriano in his usual calm manner had wore that smile I now have reasons to believe it's sly. The discussion had shifted subtly and Adriano’s voice had turned sharp as he spat his misgivings about Fina.

He'd advised him to thread carefully because he had reason to believe she's a Rossi whore scheming to ruin me.

His bias are the same thing I've harbored all this time, but hearing him voice it in such a distasteful manner had enraged him. I’d shut him down, my voice ice, telling him to watch his mouth or lose his tongue.

No matter what, she's my wife, and I won't have her disrespected for whatever reason. His eyes had flashed, but he’d backed off.

Now, that moment feels like a warning I missed. I slam a ledger shut, glass rattling, and head for Fina’s room, needing to see her, to know if she’s lying or if I’ve been blind.

Her door’s open, and Giulia’s inside, folding clothes. She looks up when she hears me approaching. She looks at me warily.

“Where’s Fina?” I ask, my voice gravelly.

“Signora Serafina left an hour ago, Signor Mancini.”

My suspicion spikes. “Where did she go?” I ask calmly.

“She said she was visiting her father.”

My blood runs hot, rage surging. Fina, running to Domenico? After I told her to stay out of my world? Minutes ago, I’d thought she might be right about Adriano, and now she’s scheming with her Rossi blood? “You’re sure?” I growl.

She nods. “She took a car and she didn’t say when she’d return.”

I step back, pulling my phone. I'll be damned if I let her play me. I'm going to demand what the hell she thinks she's doing, and by God, I'll have my answer.

I dial her number and wait, my heart pounding. It doesn’t connect, just dead air. I try again, same thing. My anger spikes, a fire in my chest, but it’s tinged with unease. Whatever the fuck is she playing at?

Knowing I have to know exactly what's going on, I dial Domenico. I inquire sharply when he picks, “where’s your daughter? She come to you with more Rossi schemes?”

I hear the barely contained anger in his voice as he snaps back. “What the hell are you on about, Mancini?” A pause. “Where’s Serafina?”

I grit my teeth, wanting to call him a liar. What are the chances that they aren't both in this to play me for a fool. “She left for your place an hour ago.”

His voice shifts and becomes tense. I think, here it is. But he doesn't say what I expect him to, instead, he says, “she’s not here. Why’s she not with you?”

The conviction in his tone hits me, and my stomach twists. He’s not lying. Someone had been lying all along, but it's not Serafina or Domenico. I've been a fool. “Something’s wrong,” I say, voice low.

Domenico’s voice hardens. “What’s going on?”

“She's not here, she's not with you. Something's wrong,” I repeat. “Does she have meetings? Did she go somewhere, maybe a club…?” I let my voice trail off, realizing the desperation in it.

Domenico doesn't answer me. I hear him call for Carlo, then Aida. Her voice comes, faint but clear, saying she hasn’t heard from Fina and that she's not at a meeting.

My suspicion flares, dread coiling tight. Fina’s gone, and Adriano’s words echo in my head. I tell Domenico, “I’m coming to your villa,” and hang up, my hands shaking.

I storm through the halls, finding Matteo in the courtyard, fiddling with his phone. He spots me, his grin fading as he steps forward. “Enzo, you seen Fina? She was looking for you earlier, had this crazed look in her eyes that worried me.

His words hit like a punch, and I freeze, my mind spinning. Fina was right. Adriano’s betrayal is real, and she’s in danger because I didn’t listen.

“Adriano,” I say, voice low, venomous. “You seen him?”

Matteo’s brows furrow. “He left with some visitor a while ago.”

“Cazzo!” I curse in Italian, my rage boiling over. Fina was right, and I’m a fool. Adriano’s behind this, and she’s paying for my blindness.

“What’s going on?” Matteo asks, eyes narrowing.

I grip his shoulder, my voice tight. “Fina’s missing. Her maid says she eft for Domenico’s, but she never got there. I just got off a call with him.

“What?” Matteo mouths, his confusion apparent.

“Apparently, she heard Adriano confess—he killed my mother, framed the Rossis, and started this whole war. I didn't believe her and we had a fight. She left for Domenico's afterwards, but no one's seen her since then. I think he’s taken her.”

I'm not a rambler, but I subconsciously realize I've been rambling this past few minutes.

Matteo’s face twists, rage exploding. “Adriano?” He shakes his head. “How dare that bastard!” he roars, fists clenched. “He’s been playing us all?”

I nod, my own fury a living thing, raw and relentless.

“I’m heading to the Rossi villa. Domenico needs to know—it’s his daughter.

She's my wife.” My voice shakes, not just with anger but with panic, a sharp, gnawing fear for Fina, pregnant with my child, out there, vulnerable because I pushed her away.

I should’ve trusted her, held her close, but I let my hate blind me, and now she’s gone.

“She'll be fine. We'll find her,” Matteo says, clasping my shoulder.

We move fast, our thoughts in sync. We both know the next line of action. We slide into a car, the engine snarling as I drive to the Rossi villa. Matteo’s silent, his jaw tight, but I feel his fury matching mine.

My mind’s a storm of guilt and fear tangling.

I see Fina at the grave, her arms around me, her voice soft, offering comfort I didn’t deserve.

I called her a liar, questioned our baby—what kind of a bastard does that?

Not once did she lash back at me. She'd stayed through my verbal assault. And now she’s missing.

We arrive at the Rossi villa in no time. The last time I was at here, I’d come to drag Fina back to go home with me. Now, I’m here to find her, and the panic’s a beast, clawing at my chest.

Home.

Suddenly, the word means nothing without her there.

The guards at the gate don’t flinch as we pull up, unlike last time when they’d eyed me like an enemy. They know something’s wrong, their faces grim, and it fuels my dread. I’m angry at myself, at my stubbornness, for not listening to her. She’s out there, and I need to find her.

Adriano, that motherfucker, will pay for every second she’s in danger. I’ll tear him apart, make him beg, but first, I need Fina safe, her and our child. The thought of losing her is a wound I can’t bear. I love her too much to lose her.

Love?

We step out, the air heavy with tension, and Riccardo’s there, his face stormy as he blocks our path. “What the hell happened to my sister?” he demands, voice rough, eyes blazing.

Before, I’d have brushed him off, seen him as just a spineless Rossi. But now, I see the worry carved into his face, real and raw, and it mirrors my own. “Where’s Domenico?” I ask, voice low, urgent. Riccardo glares but nods, leading us inside, his steps quick, angry.

We move through the villa, my boots heavy, my heart pounding.

I don’t notice the walls, the stone, the wealth—none of it matters.

Only Fina does. Riccardo pushes open a door, and Domenico’s there, standing, his face hard, eyes sharp with fear and fury.

Aida’s beside him, her face pale, and Carlo looms nearby, tense.

Domenico doesn’t waste time with preambles or pleasantries as he says, voice rough, “tell me everything, Mancini. Where’s my daughter?”

I meet his gaze, my own fear raw, my anger a fire that won’t die. Fina’s gone, and Adriano’s betrayal is the key. I need to lay it all bare, for her, for our child, for the truth I should’ve seen.

For our love.

My voice is steady as I launch into details of what happened, but inside, I’m breaking, the weight of my mistakes crushing me.