A crazed Enzo rushes toward me, taking me in his arms and rocking me back and forth.
"I'm fine," my voice trembles as I try to assure him. "The baby's fine."
Taking my face in his hands, he lays kisses all over my skin.
"God, Allegra. For one moment I thought I'd lost you," he rasps, his eyes misty.
Another car pulls up in the parking lot, and I see the rest of our bodyguards run toward us.
Too late.
Enzo's expression changes immediately. Gone is the worried lover, replaced by a cold killer. Even in my shocked state, I can see that he's not thinking straight.
"Enzo, don't. Please don't," I beg him, recognizing he's on the verge of snapping. "I'm fine, really. Let it go."
But he doesn't.
He lifts me up and places me in the car seat, locking the doors on his way out.
"Enzo, don't!" I knock my fists on the window as I watch him walk toward the men—his men—with measured steps. A smile, and he draws his weapon.
The men—three in total—barely have time to react as Enzo executes them on the spot.
I keep screaming and kicking at the glass, even though it's futile.
Why?
Too spent from crying, I continue hiccupping as I watch in dismay as Enzo stuffs the bodies inside the other car before returning. He takes Luca's position in the driver's seat, and I can only stare in shock at the man before me.
Who are you?
I thought I'd seen a ruthless side of Enzo when he'd killed a man in cold blood just for touching me. But this… There's simply no excuse for this.
"It had to be done, little tigress," he says, angling the mirror to look at me.
I feel only disgust as I look at him, so unbothered and unconcerned with having just killed five people.
"Why?" My voice sounds broken under the weight of too many tears.
"I don't expect you to understand. Everything has consequences in our world. Life in the famiglia…" he trails off, but I've heard enough.
The famiglia, the ever-important famiglia that values cruelty over humanity.
When another car arrives, Enzo finally starts driving, leaving the scene of the massacre behind.
I stare out the window, my tears dried up, my heart in shambles—disappointed, desolate, and heartbroken.
But it's not until I feel a sudden wetness coursing down my thighs that I start panicking, realizing that, indeed, all actions have consequences.
And my husband's will be rewarded in kind.
"Enzo, hospital, quick! My water broke!" I breathe in deeply, trying to calm myself.
"What?" His eyes widen, but he's already doing a U-turn. "Are you okay? You said everything was fine!"
I don't answer, focusing instead on regulating my breaths.
"Enzo," I finally speak, between sighs, "if anything happens to this baby, you're dead to me." Almost hysterical at this point, I keep my hands over my stomach, praying everything will be okay.
