Page 50 of Vow to Me

“It might not be what it looks like, we could have it all—” once again, Enzo is cut off. Only this time it’s by a knock at the door. Dad yells for whoever it is to come in and one of our foot soldiers comes in, his face pale.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Tomasso Greco was found dead in an alley with this hanging out of his neck,” he says before handing a plastic bag to Marco and leaving the room.

Marco glances at me before taking the object out of the bag and I see fucking red.

It’s a five-inch blade with a gold embossed handle.

It’s one of Izzy’s knives.

I’d know it fucking anywhere considering she treats them like her fucking children.

She refuses to leave the house without at least one strapped to her.

She killed him then ran off with another fucking man.

She left her knife, so we’d know it was her who killed him.

I’m going to fucking find her, then I’ll make her fucking pay.

What a goddamn joke, I gave her fucking everything. I gave her all of me, and she stabbed me in the heart the same way she did Tomasso in his neck.

Tomasso.

Fuck, a man I’ve known nearly all my life is dead, and it was mywifethat killed him.

“There’s nothing else to it, Enzo. I think the picture painted is pretty clear. My wife is a lying, traitorous bitch. We need to fucking find her. We don’t tolerate treachery, even if I am married to her,” I growl and throw the laptop at the wall where the screen shatters. Just like my fucking mind. I don’t know if I’m going to be sick or go on a murderous rampage, the emotions swirling around inside me make my head ache and I have to close my eyes while trying to focus on my breathing.

Fuck this.

Fuckher.

Fuck it all.

Fuckeverything.

Run and hide, little demon. I’ll stop at nothing to destroy you, just like you’ve destroyed me.

She was my queen, my love, my life. And now she’s my prey.

Five days and fucking nothing. Theres no sign of her. She left everything in the apartment. She didn’t take a single thing; I came home five days ago, and fucking destroyed the place in a fit of rage. She even left her laptop, but I refrained from setting it on fire on the off chance it can help us locate her.

I keep thinking back to that text she got while we were in the hospital. Clearly, I’m a fucking idiot for believing I could trust her and thinking it was just some random from her past.

I’m up on the roof of our building, staring out at the city below me. For some reason, we never came up here together, which I’m glad for because it’s now the only place in the building that isn’t haunted with memories of her.

Every time I’m in the apartment I see her lying on the sofa, rolling her eyes at me while I talk shit about whatever she’s watching. I see her sat at the kitchen island working on her laptop as she scrunches her brow in that fucking adorable way at what she’s reading. I can’t even sleep in my own bed because it fucking smells like her.

I fucking miss her. And that’s ridiculous, I’m supposed to fucking hate her, yet I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.

The pain hasn’t left since I watched her jump into another man’s arms. I just wish I could forget about her, forget about the good times we had spent laughing, forget about that fucking night on the beach.

Jesus.None of it was real. It was all a fucking lie.

We’ve turned the fucking city inside out looking for her, but she left no trace of herself anywhere. We tried following the car theyleft in on the city’s cameras, but it was no good. They’ve vanished into thin air. I debated calling her father, but he doesn’t give a shit about her so it would be pointless. We also need to find out who the fuck sent us the thumb drive, because they’re the ones who tried to blow up my fucking brother.

Did you ever wonder how we always knew how to find your pretty little wife, Romano?

Fuck, does that mean that she planned it? She knew what would fucking happen. My fucking brother could have died.She could have fucking died.

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