Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
As I begin to fry the meat, Jenna keeps glancing at me until I say, “You’re going to cut yourself.”
Her eyes snap down, and she pays closer attention to what she’s doing. “How’s your wound?”
“Fine.”
“When we’re done eating, I’ll take a look.”
My eyebrow lifts, along with the corner of my mouth. “Okay.”
Do we have to eat first?
JENNA
Everything feels different.
While we’re eating, I can’t stop looking at Enzo. After what he shared with me, I trust that he won’t hurt me.
Knowing he understands what I’ve been through suddenly makes me feel so much closer to him.
Just like him, I never thought I’d tell anyone that I was raped, but after he told me what happened to him, I couldn’t keep the secret to myself anymore.
My eyes are locked on his face as he eats, and it’s difficult to accept that this strong man was once a starving boy who suffered the unspeakable.
“Don’t pity me,” he suddenly says.
“I don’t,” I reply, my food completely forgotten. “I’m admiring how strong you are.”
Enzo’s gaze snaps to mine, and when he sees I mean the words, he relaxes.
“How did you meet Cassia and the others?” I ask.
“Dominik contacted us all because we had the same enemy. We had a meeting and agreed to form an alliance to show a force of strength to keep them at bay.”
“And did you?”
He nods.
“Who was the enemy?”
“The bratva. They’ll always be a problem.” He lets out a sigh. “Cassia managed to secure a business deal with them years ago, and it’s helped.”
Not knowing who he’s talking about, I ask, “Who is the bratva?”
“The Russian mafia.”
My eyes widen, and not wanting to talk about that anymore, I change the subject and ask, “Why are you fighting with the MC?”
“They interfered with my business.” He stands up and carries his empty plate to the sink. “I opened a factory that produces counterfeit goods, and they thought they could charge me a fee for operating in their territory.”
“And you don’t want to pay the fee?”
Enzo comes to stand by the island, and a brutal look hardens his face.
Fear tenses my muscles, and my mouth grows dry.
“I don’t bow to anyone. Ever.” He must see the fear on my face because he relaxes again, softening his features. “Dealing with them is child’s play, so there’s nothing for you to be worried about.”
Child’s play? The MC? They’ve been terrorizing the St. Louis area for decades.
“Are you done eating?” Enzo asks.
“Oh.” I nod and quickly stand up. I put my leftover food in the microwave so I can have it later and give Enzo an uncertain look. “Do you want to shower before I change your bandage?”
“Yes. Give me ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
As he leaves the kitchen, I think today is the most I’ve talked to someone who’s not Mom since that night, and with every word, it’s getting easier.
While Enzo is busy, I grab the first aid kit from the cupboard, and when my gaze lands on the bottle of painkillers, I frown.
Enzo hasn’t complained about pain at all. Surely a gunshot wound like that hurts a lot.
I take the painkillers and also get a bottle of water, and head upstairs with my haul. The door is open, and when I enter the bedroom, I hear the shower stop.
Shoot! He’s not done yet. Should I leave?
I set everything down on the bedside table and begin to fix the covers on the bed. Just as I fluff out the pillows, the bathroom door opens. I glance briefly at Enzo before setting the pillow down, then my eyes dart back to him, and I almost choke on a random drop of spit.
He only has a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Don’t panic,” he says, while I stare at his chest and V-cut abs, which are something I’ve never seen.
Now that I know I can trust him, I manage to remain calm and don’t make a run for my room.
Instead, I pick up the first aid kit and whisper, “Come sit.”
Enzo moves closer, and with every step he takes, my body tenses a little, but it’s not as bad as before.
I keep my eyes on the medical supplies while he sits down on the bed, then he asks, “How are you holding up, meu coração?”
I glance up and see he still has the towel in place where he’s sitting propped up against the pillows. I just nod, because the words don’t want to come.
When I step closer and begin to sit down beside Enzo, his voice is very gentle as he says, “You don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Unexpectedly, his words make something shift deep inside me. It feels as if a part of me that’s remained askew for years clicks back into place.
I haven’t been able to fully trust anyone since the rape, but as I stare at Enzo and see the tenderness in his eyes, I fall irrevocably in trust with him.