Page 59 of SINS & Lies

And sooner or later, everyone always comes to me.

Though, unlike my douchebag uncle, I’ve never held a debt against a woman or child.

Besides, going after women and children achieves nothing. From what I’ve seen, most of them have been tortured enough. And since I’m neither an asshole nor a coward, I have better outlets for my rage.

Lashing out on poor, defenseless victims is my uncle’s domain. He and his mangy dog, Rocco.

A deep wound rips wide in the center of my chest. The mere thought of Rocco laying a finger on Bella sends a shockwave through me so intense that the sound of the phone’s screen cracking in my hand brings me back to Sin’s voice droning on.

“Nothing good can come of this. Just walk away, Enzo. You’ve been sleep-deprived for months, and you’re not thinking clearly. You need a break.”

“You’re right,” I give in. “And I’m taking a break. In Italy. For seven uninterrupted days.”

“Will you at least be back for the wedding?” he asks, his tone kicking up hope against a solid wall of don’t give a fuck.

And while I’d usually have hung up by now, I know what he’s doing. Gauging just how far off the deep end I’ve flown. “Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

“And what do I really want to know?” he asks, his voice lifting with all that maniacal psychoanalysis crap he loves pulling on me.

“You’re wondering if at the end of a week, I’ll give her back.” I shrug to myself. “Maybe. Or perhaps I’ll keep her. She seems cozy, holed up in my spider’s web. Meanwhile, we’ll cut through all the polite bullshit while I joyfully declare war.”

CHAPTER 22

Enzo

I can just imagine Sin’s face scoffing through the phone. “You? Threatening war over a woman? Don’t forget, Enzo. The problem with war is that it’s exhilarating at first?—”

“Mmm. Yes, when the bloodbath tastes like fresh victory on the tongue,” I say, bathing in the thought of it.

“But then, around the time you realize the blood on your hands is ours, that gluttonous rush will end. It could be anyone, Enzo—Smoke, Dante, any one of your brothers?—”

“Don’t forget me, Sin,” I snipe back. “Maybe you’ll finally be rid of me for good.”

“Or, God forbid, Trinity,” he adds, stabbing me in the gut, then twisting the knife. “Think it through. Take a week and whatever else you need from this girl. Then give her to Andre and get on with your life.”

I swallow hard. Deep down, I know my time with Kennedy is borrowed. One week. That’s it. Then I hand her back to Andre to do with as he pleases.

But what if I won’t? I can’t?

I gag my conscience and kick him under the rug. “Speaking of which,” I say, “I don’t have a will. Be a sport, Sin. Draft me up one. You know, just in case.”

“Good news. I already have, Enzo. You’ve left everything to Uncle Andre. Just in case.”

“What?”

“You and I were in a fight,” he explains, and I realize he’s not fucking around. “You’d just accessed my phone, changed a bunch of ringtones to breathy climax screams—one male,” he points out.

I smile. I also scanned all his emails, activated his tracker, and loaded a ton of spyware—which is how I know about my own father’s will—but he doesn’t need to know all that.

“Besides,” he continues. “Andre gifted you a girl. For a week. I figured it had to be what you wanted, considering you always were his favorite.”

“Do not piss me off,” I warn.

“Give me your word you’ll be at Smoke’s wedding, and I’ll draft up a new one, ready for your signature.”

With a resigned sigh, I suppress the simmering rage beneath the surface long enough to avoid going another nine rounds with Sin. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. Enjoy your week. If you start getting attached?—”

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