Enzo? All these lies and issues of control—not the sex kink ones, but the real-life ones, they kind of show he can't change blood. And he hasn't fallen far from his father's tree.
So, I have to ask, is he only keeping me around because I'm a vessel for his heir?
The moment the thought comes, I feel dirty, gritty, and like I need a shower.
I might be a vessel for his heir, but his obsession for me is real.
Thing is...obsession isn't love.
But could it be? One day?
I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. "Who the fuck knows?"
Do I even want it to be?
That question is one I steer clear of.
And then I come full circle and smash straight into all the lies again.
How long has Enzo known?
He hates his dad, probably because there may be a lot ofsimilarities. But I thought Enzo was different in all the ways that matter. He has empathy, humor, a good heart.
Or he did. Once.
Or maybe he just fooled me into thinking he did.
I close my eyes.
No, he does. I've seen it with Squish. And with his sister.
His sister?
Mysister.
That floors me. But in my heart, I know he's her brother in all the ways that count.
We might have the same blood, Lyndall and I, but we're close friends, and I'll never replace her sibling. I don't want to.
Hells, this is a big mess.
I rub my chest, trying to rid myself of the hollowness that seems to be burrowing me out. I have no idea how long Enzo has known. And asking him won't get me anywhere, either, because how can I be sure he will even tell me the truth about that?
The conversation, if you can call the shouting fight conversation, didn't have the raw and combustive edge of anyone finding out news right before coming into the house.
Enzo sounded like it was something he was saving to take out on his father.
When the perfect opportunity arose...
He did.
So, why even try and ask? I'll just get lies.
And so, that hollowness remains and grows.
The worst part—or one of the worst parts—is how intent he seems on destroying the trust and smashing the slate.
I thought we were somewhere different.
