Everything feels different.
While we’re eating, I can’t stop looking at Enzo. After what he shared with me, I trust that he won’t hurt me.
Knowing he understands what I’ve been through suddenly makes me feel so much closer to him.
Just like him, I never thought I’d tell anyone that I was raped, but after he told me what happened to him, I couldn’t keep the secret to myself anymore.
My eyes are locked on his face as he eats, and it’s difficult to accept that this strong man was once a starving boy who suffered the unspeakable.
“Don’t pity me,” he suddenly says.
“I don’t,” I reply, my food completely forgotten. “I’m admiring how strong you are.”
Enzo’s gaze snaps to mine, and when he sees I mean the words, he relaxes.
“How did you meet Cassia and the others?” I ask.
“Dominik contacted us all because we had the same enemy. We had a meeting and agreed to form an alliance to show a force of strength to keep them at bay.”
“And did you?”
He nods.
“Who was the enemy?”
“The bratva. They’ll always be a problem.” He lets out a sigh. “Cassia managed to secure a business deal with them years ago, and it’s helped.”
Not knowing who he’s talking about, I ask, “Who is the bratva?”
“The Russian mafia.”
My eyes widen, and not wanting to talk about that anymore, I change the subject and ask, “Why are you fighting with the MC?”
“They interfered with my business.” He stands up and carries his empty plate to the sink. “I opened a factory that producescounterfeit goods, and they thought they could charge me a fee for operating in their territory.”
“And you don’t want to pay the fee?”
Enzo comes to stand by the island, and a brutal look hardens his face.
Fear tenses my muscles, and my mouth grows dry.
“I don’t bow to anyone. Ever.” He must see the fear on my face because he relaxes again, softening his features. “Dealing with them is child’s play, so there’s nothing for you to be worried about.”
Child’s play? The MC? They’ve been terrorizing the St. Louis area for decades.
“Are you done eating?” Enzo asks.
“Oh.” I nod and quickly stand up. I put my leftover food in the microwave so I can have it later and give Enzo an uncertain look. “Do you want to shower before I change your bandage?”
“Yes. Give me ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
As he leaves the kitchen, I think today is the most I’ve talked to someone who’s not Mom since that night, and with every word, it’s getting easier.
While Enzo is busy, I grab the first aid kit from the cupboard, and when my gaze lands on the bottle of painkillers, I frown.
Enzo hasn’t complained about pain at all. Surely a gunshot wound like that hurts a lot.
