Page 202 of Hexed
I’ll enjoy seeing that waste of space behind bars.
And if he doesn’t end up there? Well, I’m always ready to enact more revenge when necessary.
Now I’m back home—in New York City, which still feels weird to say. Enzo gave me his private plane to use, and living in the lap of luxury is nice…definitely something I could get used to. But I want a house, not a penthouse where elevators open up at will and anyone can walk inside. My trauma from that won’t ever heal.
Bastien is running Seven Seas Construction, reworking it from the ground up, and he’s putting people in place to keep the Lair running smoothly. Unfortunately, it’s just another thing that’s been tainted after everything that happened.
I wasn’t supposed to get back from Fisher’s memorial service until tomorrow, but Scotty arranged the private plane to fuel early because I wanted to surprise Enzo. So even though I’m tired and it’s late, there’s anticipation buzzing beneath my skin.
It’s been a week since I saw him. Granted, he’s been busy setting up the new power structure and accepting all the gifts and pledges of loyalty that come along with being a Mafia don. Truthfully, he’d tell me anything I wanted to know, but I don’t ask many questions. When we’re together, I like feeling light, leaving the darkness of who we are at the door and letting ourselves justbe.
Being in a relationship is new for me—for both of us, actually—and communication is something we were both taught to use as a weapon instead of as a foundation for something solid.
I even suggested therapy because every day I look at him and wonder if he secretly hates me for killing his brother, but Enzo was quick to say no; apparently Mafia men and their women don’tdotherapy. Something about ending up in prison anddoctor/patient confidentiality not applying. But I’m working on him day by day. Maybe I’ll have Gio sit down and listen to us instead.
The elevator pings open into the foyer of the penthouse, and the silence is overwhelming, so quiet that it almost has the opposite effect, making my ears ring with a high-pitched squeal.
Enzo is nowhere in sight, but it’s late, so he’s either out at work or maybe in bed, so I take my time, heading to the kitchen to grab something to drink before making my way back to wake him up.
I’ve just opened up the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water when the goddamn elevator pings back open and Scotty rushes inside, his breathing erratic and his eyes bulging out of his head.
“What is it?” I ask, immediately on alert.
“I saw…I heard… I mean, I didn’t hear, but I saw that bitch—I mean, thatwench, Aria! The doorman asked why she couldn’t speak, and I—she’s here?—”
My eyes grow wide, my hand shooting out to grip Scotty’s arm and try to focus him. “Take a deep breath, Scotty. What do you mean?”
Scotty presses a hand to his chest and follows my instruction, inhaling heavily. “Aria is somewhere in this apartment.”
I’m off and down the hall before I can stop myself, Scotty’s footsteps behind me, and I burst into the bedroom, my heart shooting into my throat when I see Aria with a knife raised high above Enzo’s body.
He’s passed out.Did she drug him?
I don’t think; I just react, running toward her and tackling her. She fights, trying to yell, but the only thing that escapes is a hoarse shout. I smirk at her, slamming her body onto the ground and straddling her.
“Cat got your tongue?” I grin and wrestle the knife from her hand, spinning it around and forcing the blade onto her neck,my fingers clammy where they’re covering hers. “Should have kept your fucking mouth shut and stayed away, you pathetic girl.”
As I press harder, her eyes widen, her mouth opening wide like she’s trying to beg forsomething.
But my mercy has run out.
“I’m going to enjoy this.” I smile.
Then I plunge the knife into her chest and twist, reveling in the way she silently screams. I hold it there, my weight pinning her down and my fingers slipping from her blood.
And as her life flows out, every single hurt she’s caused, all the years of pent-up animosity bleed away with it, and when she exhales her last breath, her body going lax and her eyes growing dim…I finally feel peace.
Because it’s all over.
And now Enzo and I can live happily ever after.
EPILOGUE
ENZO
“How many timesdo I have to tell you I hate my birthday?” Venesa asks as I steer her with my hand on her hips.
I smirk from behind her, although she can’t see it because I’ve had her blindfolded since right before our plane landed in Atlantic Cove half an hour ago. And now we’re here, at the boardwalk, and I’m determined to make her birthday a good memory again, just like it was when she was little.
