A lot of vodka later, the talks seemed promising. I'd certainly left with a good feeling about this partnership and a little buzzed from the alcohol.
When I'd gotten home, though, my first thought had been to find Allegra. Knowing how many strangers would be present at the party, I didn't want to risk anything happening to her. If I were honest with myself, I didn't want to risk her interacting with anyone she might findinteresting.
Sometimes, the mere thought that someone might snatch her from me makes me so mad I can barely see straight.
So I'd made a beeline for the ballroom, excusing myself from the people who stopped me to wish me a happy birthday. But just as I'd entered the ballroom, Mother and her group of friends had stopped me.
"It's not politenotto do a toast, Enzo," my mother had said, her friends quickly agreeing. "You're the birthday boy, after all." I'd refrained from rolling my eyes, and taking the champagne glass that Mother had offered, I'd chugged it down.
"Great, now if you'll excuse me," I tried to move past them, but once again they stopped me so they could hug me and kiss my cheeks.
Over ten people had lined up to wish me a happy birthday, and by the time I'd started looking for Allegra again, my vision had started fading, my adrenaline pumping.
I'd stopped in the middle of the ballroom, slightly disoriented, a simmering rage just beneath the surface.
Someone had guided me toward the balcony where I'd spotted my wife in the embrace of another man.
My brain had stopped working at that point. I just remember a rage unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life burning in my veins, seeking to be released.
And so I'd grabbed the man, and I hadn't stopped until his blood was hot on my hands. But even then, it hadn't beenenough. I'd put a bullet right through his skull, not caring about the reactions around me.
My mind had honed in on one thing—someone had touched my wife. And there was hell to pay.
I'd grabbed Allegra and brought her to the room. And then…
The images are jumbled, and I only recall snippets, not a coherent narrative.
But one thing is for sure.
"Enzo, please don't. Not like this."
If Allegra didn't hate me before, she sure as hell did now. And me? I'd gladly put a gun in her hand so she could take her retribution.
I still don't understand, though, how I could do something like that. I've seen my sister and the aftermath of her rape.
Hell, I have my own demons to grapple with.
And because of that, IknowI would have never taken her against her will. God, I'd gone to great lengthsnotto fuck her.
Pulling up my phone, I dial a contact who works at a toxicology laboratory.
"I need a blood test," I say, giving him a few details. I quickly shower and change my clothes before heading to his place.
I'd felt so unnaturally angry that I know for a fact I had been close to mass murder—especially when I'd seen that man's hands on Allegra. That I'd stopped at him is a wonder. Hell, that Allegra is unharmed is a miracle.
Wait…Is she fine?
Shame burns deeply in my gut at the thought of seeing her look at me with nothing but loathing in her eyes.
Do I deserve better? The flashes I can recall from last night are enough to make me the villain of the story—the monster who hadn't stopped when she'd said no.
God, Allegra… What else did I do to you?
I'm almost afraid to find out.
As I'm about to leave, I see Ana exit her room, so I pull her aside and question her about Allegra's state.
"She seemed fine to me. It's a wonder she's held up for so long, though," she says, shaking her head before her eyes widen, realizing she'd let something slip.
