A knock on the bathroom door made me jump. “What?”
“Signor Lanza is here for you,” the makeup artist said behind the door, and my heart squeezed. What the fuck was he doing here? I didn’t want to see him, not now, not ever. I’d argue it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but I already had heaps of that. What was a little more?
My fists clung to the edge of the sink as the door creaked. Obviously, Il Tagliatore—I’d learnt Enzio’s mob name meant The Cutter, but Cosimo never told me why, not that it was hard to guess—wouldn’t wait for me to come out.
His head peeked into the bathroom before he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room felt so small, suffocating, as if he’d sucked all the air out of it. He wore a classic black tux with a bowtie. The dark curls of his hair slicked to the side, the soft ends falling to his forehead. His beard trimmed and defined, showcasing his mouth.
I hated how…handsome he was. How elegant and almost regal he looked. How his tall, broad body filled the tailor-made tux. How identical he looked like the only man I ever loved.
How the face and body that once drove me insane and made me burn with beautiful lust were now making my stomach clench with disgust and pain.
He took one glance at me, his honey eyes cold, and puckered his lips. “You’re still here.”
I blinked, my fake lashes heavy. “You sound disappointed. You thought I ran away?”
“I was hoping you’d do something stupid like that, yes.”
“To give you an excuse to hunt me down and shoot me?”
He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “You’d have brought it on yourself.”
I grunted. “You might have wanted to tone down the security measures then.” He’d assigned two of his dogs to follow me everywhere, and there was an army with an arsenal peppered inside the hotel and out.
“If I had, would you’ve done it?”
I took a deep breath and stepped away from the sink. Then I moved toward him, meeting his gaze. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
A smirk curved up the corner of his mouth as his gaze trained on me. Instinctively, my arms circled around my body in a shield, and I broke our stare.
“Why didn’t you have your hair cut?” he asked.
“Cosimo loved it long. I intend to keep it that way.”
“Cosimo is dead. You’remywife now, andIlike it short.”
His ice cold tone stabbed at me. My head jerked toward him, a comeback on my tongue, but I swallowed it. As much I wanted to tell him I didn’t give a fuck about what he liked or didn’t like and that he wasn’t my husband, I wanted this day to be over with minimum losses and as fast as possible so my son would never leave my arms again.
He nodded at me to follow him into the suite. When I walked out, he waved a dismissive hand at the beauty team.
They rushed out, and he took a seat. Then he crossed his legs, looking like he owned the place—technically he did. The hotel belonged to the Lanzas—and pointed his hand at the chair across from him. The tattoos on his wrist peeked from his sleeve. A tangle of thorns under a row of skulls. Some said he added a skull on his wrist with every kill he made. Did he add one for Cosimo? Or did he only add the ones he cut to death? “We never had the time to—”
“Negotiate the terms of my surrender?” I cocked a brow as I sat.
“Negotiate is a luxurious word for someone in your position. We simply have to go through the rules of this arrangement to avoid anylethalmisunderstandings.”
His icy glare failed to intimidate me. Enzio wasn’t half the man my husband was, and Cosimo, in all his formidable glory, never once frightened me. That was probably why he fell in love with me. “All ears, Warden.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned forward. “I don’t know what you’re fussing about. You should be grateful. I saved your pathetic life and gave you a chance to live by your boy’s side. You’ll have the same life you’ve been living for the past two years, and have the same privileges your status as the boss’s wife allowed. If anyone is imprisoned here, that will be me.”
Poor Enzio. When he killed his own brother to take his kingdom, the most sought-after playboy bachelor in the city wasn’t aware he’d have to marry the breastfeeding widow who hadn’t had a chance to lose her baby weight yet and raise a child with her. How ungrateful of me to not be happy about his ultimate sacrifice.
To any girl, marrying a wealthy, powerful and attractive man like Enzio wasn’t such a horrible thing. In fact, it might be the best thing that could ever happen to many.
To me, it was the worst.
“Why did yousaveme, Enzio?”
“For Mario.” He didn’t blink or hesitate. If I hadn’t known for sure that was a lie, I’d have believed him.
