Page 12 of Enzo's Vow
“Quiet.” She stacked folded cardboard boxes over me and backed away. “Whatever happens, keep quiet.”
A loud shout in the distance boomed.
I flattened my cheek on the brick and stole a peek between the gap.
Spine straight, fists by her sides, she whirled to the man.
“Useless to run, Carina.” His voice. Deep, scratchy, like those men who smoke those stinky cigars with Pa.
“Vito, don’t do this.” She stood her ground, unblinking against the harsh rain, her voice steady.
“Too late.” The strange man sounded remorseful, almost defeated. “This is what you get for choosing him over me. Now look at you… pathetic. If you’d chosen me, Carina, I’d have given you the world.”
A loud bang resounded.
No! I smothered my scream.
Mamma tumbled backward and hit the wall. A red circle on her tan coat grew larger, extending over her abdomen. She sank to the concrete, her gaze centered ahead on the man. “I know you would have.” Her body lopped sideways.
“Come out!” The raspy voice shouted. “You, back there, out!”
I blinked out of the flashback, Vito De Luca’s voice still echoing in my mind. That night changed everything, robbed me of my innocence. I later learned Vito had been engaged to my mother before her elopement with my father. Their betrothal united two enemy families… for a short period anyway, until my parents ran off together. My mother’s betrayal heightened the family vendetta, altering the lives of generations to come.
Carina believed we inherited enemies like any other fortune. Yes, we’d encountered danger on numerous occasions, but I boasted of being a Cammarata,anythingbut a Calafiore. Despite Carina’s constant reminder of how mafia blood traveled through my veins, I’d rather die than consider myself a member ofherfamily.
Chapter 5
Gemma
My stomach grumbled a protest at the tray in front of me. Enzo had delivered on his promise to send food, a cruel irony considering I needed energy to escape him. Bread, olives, cheese, and a ramekin of balsamic vinegar in olive oil covered the tray. I forced myself to take a bite, the sharp tang of the balsamic doing little to quell the acid churning in my gut.
A knock at the door made me jump. I froze, clutching the half-eaten bread. Was he back?Please, not him.
“Signorina Galo? Are you decent?” Not Psycho’s low rumble.
The guard, then. Relief shuddered through me, fleeting but potent.
The door creaked open, and Tapper, the lesser of the scary guards, poked his head inside. A muscle twitched nervously in his jaw. His gaze flicked over me, a mixture of wariness and something else I couldn’t decipher. “These are for you.” He strolled to the dresser. The clack of his polished shoes, sharp in the silence as he set two pills and a bottle of water on the vanity.
My heart hammered against my ribs as he turned to leave. “Don’t go.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I stumbled forward, desperation propelling me to the exit. “Please, you must help me. I won’t marry this man. Help me out of here.” I gripped his sleeve, the rough wool abrasive against my clammy fingers.
His gaze traveled my frame as if assessing a caged animal. “You’re wasting your breath, Signorina. Don’t ask me again.” A flicker of something akin to pity dimmed his eyes before he hardened them. “Orders are orders.”
“No, wait!” I called out, my voice cracking.
He shut the door, the heavythunkof the lock clicking into place, resonating my misfortune.
I crumpled my hands to my sides. There had to be a way... I dragged in a shaky breath, to think, to act. Scanning the room, the heavy ceramic bedroom lamp gave me pause. I imagined smashing it over Enzo’s head—a satisfying image, but hardly a path to freedom. Even if I harmed him again, that didn’t give me a way off this estate.
I bit my lip at the balcony doors. Bolting to them, I opened them wide. The sun beat down my neck as I peered over the rail. A thick wall of Wisteria clung to the stone face of the villa. Another roof sat a few feet below, the deep drop plunging my heart into my stomach. I gripped the rail, unnecessarily holding on for dear life. Too distant to jump, but what if I climbed down? Beyond the lower roof, the edge of an outdoor table and chair sat amidst the grand terrace. Dangerous, but a plan nonetheless.
Back in the room, my gaze fell on the bed. Movie logic, maybe my only logic. I stripped the duvet of its cover, then the flat sheet, wrestling with the elastic corners of the fitted sheet clinging to the mattress. I rolled each one, including the bulky and awkward fitted sheet, its edges bunching as I twisted it tightly, before tying all the rolled sheets into sectioned knots. Girl Scout training from long ago surfaced; strength required square knots and double knots. I hoped this worked. Thank goodness Psycho transferred my belongings. I changed into a t-shirt and leggings, and slipped into my sneakers.
On the balcony, I looped the rail, tied a few knots and jerked with all my strength. The fabric stretched and groaned butotherwise stood strong.Insane. Utterly insane. But what choice did I have? Heart racing. Rope in my grip, I swung my leg over the balustrade and climbed down, holding my breath.
The rough cotton scratched against my palms, igniting them with heat. A rampant drum pounded in my ears. Dangling, I tightened my grip, focusing on Papa. If I at least alerted the authorities, they’d come back to rescue him. I had to stay strong… for him.
Swallowing the fear, I descended the rope, my sneakers scraping along the stucco wall. The sheet groaned with each lowering inch. Halfway now.I can do this.
