Page 66 of King of War

“No.” He holds me tighter. “Not tonight, Rayne. Stay.” His voice is thick with emotion, and I can practically feel the guilt oozing from his pores. I get it. He knows he let me down, and I believe he’s sorrier than he can ever express. But it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t mend my shattered heart.

My shattered heart wants to stay though. To pretend that this is real and that we can somehow forgive each other. I do love him, and I think I always will, but I can’t be sure I’ll ever look at him and not see how badly he hurt me. “Tonight changes nothing, Enzo.”

“I know,” he says, sounded resigned. Defeated. “Just give me one night where I get to imagine what we could have had.”

I imagine all too often the future that we lost. The house we were going to fill with children, how my only dream was once to be his wife and have half a dozen of his babies. It seems silly now, but back then, it was all I wanted. To create the family I’d never really had. “It will only hurt more in the morning when we have to go back to reality,” I remind him.

“Then let it fucking hurt, cuore mio. Let it burn me up for eternity, because it’s no less than I deserve.”

I slide my arm around his waist. “I’ll stay.”

I wake in the night with Enzo’s arm around me, my back flush to his chest and his hard length nestled between my ass cheeks. He’s sleeping though. I can tell by the steady rhythm of his breathing. It’s nice waking up like this with him, even if it has to come to an end soon, why shouldn’t we enjoy while we still can?

I push my ass back against him, feeling him stir.

He hums softly, nuzzling my neck. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I can’t get back to sleep. My brain won’t switch off.”

He chuckles, his warm breath ruffling my hair. “Shall I distract you with orgasms?”

“Yes, please.”

He groans, a sound filled with need. Then his warm, firm hand glides over my thigh, and he lifts my leg, hooking it over his before he lines the crown of his cock at my entrance. “I love it when my girl needs fucking,” he growls, sliding himself inside me in one smooth stroke. “And I love fucking you when you’re already full of my cum, baby. We feel so good together.”

Yes, we do. A deep, throbbing ache builds in my core, and he eases it with every roll of his hips. It’s slow and easy and sensual, our bodies entwined together and nothing but the gentle rocking of the bed and the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of me filling the room. I’ve missed sex like this, slow and easy and unhurried. It’s the kind of sex you can only have with someone you have a deep connection with. At least for me.

His mouth rests against my ear. “Tell me this is real, Rayne. That I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s real, Enzo.”

He slides back inside me like he belongs there. And I allow myself the folly of pretending that we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be, that we can move past our hurts and forgive each other. That we might find some happiness amidst the cruelty of the world we live in—just for a few hours, while the night is dark and the sunlight isn’t shining on our reality. Lies are always easier to believe in the dark. So, I let myself believe in the biggest lie of all—that our love is strong enough to overcome anything.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

ENZO

Icalled my brothers to the penthouse this morning to tell them everything I learned last night. I asked Rayne’s permission to share her story, and she quietly agreed. She is so fucking brave, and she has nothing to be ashamed of.

Now, they’re all here apart from Angelo. I gave him the pertinent details over the phone, and he cursed up a storm and threatened to turn in his clerical collar to come help us put Carmine in the ground. I managed to talk him out of the latter and told him I’d keep him updated.

Luca knows I killed someone last night, because he helped me clean up, but I didn’t want to talk about it then, and he, in his infinite wisdom, didn’t push me. Now, he stares in disbelief while I tell them everything, like he’s struggling to believe the words coming out of my mouth, even though I know he does. Rafael already believes me, so it’s Micah I watch, the man of cold, hard logic. More like our father than any of us.

“So, you’re telling us that Rayne never cheated on you. That she was in fact, raped by Ethan Fiorelli, and he claims it was Papa and Carmine who put him up to it?” he asks, not because he doesn’t believe me. It’s his way of processing. He likes to summarize key points, like a businessman giving a sales presentation.

I glance at Rayne, watching her reaction at the callous way my brother just referred to what happened to her. He’s not callous, just incredulous. This is all so fucked up that it still makes my head spin. She’s still. Composed. My calm in any storm.

“But why would they do that?” Rafael asks. “Makes no fucking sense to me at all.”

I have my theory, but before I can share it, Micah finally speaks. “It’s obvious, Raf.”

“Is it?” our younger brother replies.

The right corner of Micah’s mouth twitches, one of his very few tells that he’s pissed off. “It was to ensure Enzo’s loyalty,” he says coolly, voicing the conclusion I’ve come to myself.

“But Enzo has always been loyal,” Rafael says defensively.