"You're coming with me,madame," I hear Enzo's harsh voice in my ears, and before I know it, I'm thrown over his shoulder as he exits the ballroom.
33
ALLEGRA
"Let me go."I kick at his back, but his grip is too firm on my body. It's only when we get to my room that he drops me on the bed, turning to lock the door behind him.
Blood is all over his white shirt, spattered across his face and clinging to his knuckles. He lifts the back of his hand to his face, smearing it across his chin. He takes measured steps toward me, his features devoid of any emotion.
This side of Enzo scares me…
Straightening my dress, I get off the bed and attempt to get past him. I don't want to be anywhere near him when he's like this.
"What did I tell you?" His voice is low, unmistakable danger reverberating from it.
"Enzo, did you have too much to drink?" I try to defuse the situation, and as I get closer to him I can smell the alcohol on his breath. More than anything, I can see that his eyes aren't the usual startling green I'd come to love but a tumultuous emerald color, his black pupils expanding and engulfing what's left of the irises.
He doesn't look fine. After the display in the ballroom, heisn'tfine.
"What did I tell you, Allegra?" He grabs my wrist, bringing me flush against his chest.
I'd imbibed enough champagne to have it go to my head, but as I look into his eyes, danger radiating off him, my mind clears instantly.
"Let me go, Enzo. We can talk tomorrow." My words are soft, and I hope to reach that side of him that isn't completely gone.
"Anyone touches you and they cease to exist," he repeats the promise from before, his tone sharp but lazy, almost like a predator playing with its prey.
"What I didn't tell you…" he trails off, his bloodied hand traveling up my neck and to my face, smearing red on me, "is what I'd do to you if that ever happened."
He takes a step forward, and I'm forced to take a step back. A waltz of fear ensues as I look for an exit, but he doesn't give me one.
One hand wraps around my neck while the other removes a knife from his pocket.
My eyes widen in fear as I see him test the blade, softly moving it across my skin.
"I don't think I told you,wife,"his tone is mocking as he looks down at me, cruelty stretched taut over his features, "but you look exceedingly beautiful tonight." The knife continues its ascent on my skin, moving past the barrier of my clothes, the cold edge of the blade digging slowly but steadily into my skin without breaking the surface.
I still, a shiver running down my back.
Who is this Enzo?
"Tell me," he drawls, tilting his head to the side to assess me—to study the terror on my face as he slides the blunt side of the blade over my skin. "Who did you put this on for?" He nods toward my dress. "What about this fucking mud you put onyour face? Who was it for?" His words are getting increasingly accented, a sign he's getting heated.
And that's the last thing I want—not with a blade at my throat.
"For myself. I did it all for myself." I raise my chin at him, wearing my newfound confidence with pride. Is it so much to ask for one day—just one day—to feel beautiful?
"Really?" There's a sinister amusement in his voice, but I'm the only onenotin on the joke.
"Yes. That is correct."
"You mean to tell me you didn't go intending to fuck whoever? What was it that you said…" He frowns theatrically. "You werelonely." He pouts, mocking me once more. "You want me to believe you didn't intend to spread your legs for that man if I hadn't conveniently shown up?"
Bringing my hand up, I slap him hard across the face. His only response is a wry laugh before he's on me once more, his fingers like a tight cage around my neck.
"Where did he touch you? Be honest,wife,and we might finish this faster." The anger radiating off him is almost palpable, and though my limbs tremble in response, I try not to show my fear.
"Nowhere," I barely get the words out before his hand moves up, holding my jaw between two fingers and forcing me to look at him.
