The conflicts continue, and I have no idea if Enzo or Rocco is even aware of the extent of our enmity.
It's not as if I see my husband more than once every couple of days anyway… At this rate he'll even forget he has a wife—if he hasn't already.
One night, though, as I surreptitiously make my way to the kitchen to steal some food, I come face to face with my husband. And I can't even gloat at the way I find him.
His clothes are soaked in blood, with more red liquid dripping from his forehead and down his cheek. His breath is ragged as he holds on to his midriff, his steps uncoordinated.
I gasp, my hands going to my mouth as my eyes wildly assess his condition.
"Enzo," I whisper, and he puts one hand up to wave me away, trudging toward his room.
For once, my hatred is put aside as I hurry in his wake, stopping by my room to grab the first-aid kit.
He's sitting on the bed, the bloodied shirt discarded next to him, and I see the extent of his injuries. Angry slashes are all over his torso, all of them leaking blood.
"Enzo," I say, coming down to my knees and assessing the damage. "What happened?" I ask as I pull open the first-aid kit, taking out some bandages and disinfectant.
He just shrugs as if it's no big deal that he came home half-dead.
Keeping himself still, he watches me intently as I dab at his wounds, the flaring of his nostrils the only indication of pain.
"Why would you do this to yourself?" I ask, more to myself. I continue cleaning his skin, but the blood won't stop pouring out of the open laceration. With the back of my hand, I wipe a tear from my eye, belatedly realizing I'm crying.
Damn!
"It's the way of our world, little tigress," he eventually answers, but he's not looking at me. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pants, lighting one up.
"Does it have to be?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "What if one day you go out and never come back? I know our world is full of violence. But do you have to…" I sigh, frustration gnawing at my insides. "Look at you now," I point to his still-bleeding wounds.
"Allegra," he cracks a smile, smoke coming out of his mouth and into my face, "you speak as if you care about me."
"So what if I do?"
"Don't," he declares, that seductive smile still on his face but not quite reaching his eyes. Tucking a stray strand behind my ear, he leans into me. A mix of his hot breath and cigarette smoke blows softly in my ear as he whispers, "don't forget this was never anything more than me paying my dues."
"What are you trying to say?" My voice is clear, my tone unaffected, even though inside I'm slowly dying.
"This is an arrangement, my dear wife. It willneverbe anything but," his empty eyes look at me, and in them I see the confirmation of his words.
"Is that why you won't let me touch you? Because it's an arrangement? What do you even see me as? A little sister?" The unspoken accusation is there—am I so disgusting to him? I must be, given his reaction to me.
"You're not my little sister, Allegra, and thank God for that. You're my partner, my wife."
I drop my hand from his torso, laughing. It seems we have two different definitions ofwife.
"Really? So you get to fuck your whores and I'm to remain like this. Lonely and… alone. How is this a partnership?"
It's not as if it's the first time he's lied to me about our so-calledpartnership.In his view, it's me being entirely biddable and accommodating. He takes and I just give…
"Easy, little tigress, put your claws away. Who I fuck is none of your business. Don't try to pretend you expected fidelity when it's been this way for generations. You knew what you were signing up for."
I tilt my head to the side, studying him and his audacity.
"Did I? Then I'll find someone else to fuck too."
The clench of his fists is unmistakable, the way his lip is twitching in displeasure, and I know I hit my mark.
"Listen, little tigress," he speaks low in his throat, the underlying threat sending a shiver down my spine. His hand comes to lie on the column of my neck, his fingers caressing my pulse. "If you ever so much as look at another man, you won't like what I become. He'll be a dead man, and I'll make sure you never see the light of day again. You're carrying my name, which means you're mine. Understood?"
