Page 48 of Die for You
I didn’t think missing someone could physically cause pain. But I’m living proof that it can. My heart is empty and missing an integral part.
I know I will see him again, but our reunion will be filled with violence and bloodshed as we fight on opposing teams.
The quicker I finish tonight, the faster I can attempt to live some sense of normalcy.
The thought has me snickering to myself because, who am I kidding?
But I can at least try.
I realize what I probably look like. Laughing to myself, I’m probably not the most appealing sight, which is why at that precise moment, I meet the gray eyes of Enzo Cattaneo.
It’s that meet-cute moment you read about, but my narrative isn’t a romance story.
It is far from it.
I can see from the get-go that he’s interested.
Some men are such simple creatures—like a crow, mesmerized by shiny things.
He’s about to meet something shiny, and that is the blade of the knife I have stowed away in my purse.
My instruction was to seduce Enzo and learn his secrets, only to then betray him. But there is one not-so-tiny problem with that scenario—soon, my already growing belly won’t be easily concealed. Unless Enzo has a mommy fetish, this plan won’t work, which is why I plan on killing him tonight and dealing with the consequences later.
Gianna won’t be happy.
But she can do her own bidding if she isn’t pleased with my tactics.
It feels almost sacrilegious to disobey her this way.
Enzo looks rather sharp in a navy suit with a crisp white shirt. He’s opted for no tie, but instead wears his shirt unbuttoned with a gold crucifix chain on display.
He reeks of power and money.
Different from Aldo, who, although dressed well, was never flashy like Enzo appears to be.
I shyly avert my eyes, playing the game as I was taught by the best.
A moment later, a man is by my side. “Mr. Cattaneo wishes to speak with you.”
I nervously curl a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Who is he?”
“Best you do not keep him waiting,” he says in a strong accent, ignoring my question. “He wants to talk to you in private.”
Nodding, I follow the man as he leads me through the unsuspecting crowd.
This place is like a maze, but I ensure I keep count of the turns. The man stops and opens the library door.
Enzo stands with his back turned to the door, perusing a shelf.
The man gestures for me to enter, and when I do, the door closes behind me.
Is this how these men woo women? They believe barking a possessive order makes us women putty in their hands?
I suppose money talks, as there is no mistaking that Enzo is extremely wealthy.
The gold Rolex speaks for itself.
I don’t speak.
