Bend Me, Daddy

Note: Hi lovely Reader, hope you enjoyed Lucas story so far. I decided to make a story for Enzo and I hope y'all enjoy it as well. Xoxo!!! PROLOGUE

Enzo

Blood spattered the walls of our bedroom, transforming our loving home into something I normally kept far, far away from those who lived here. The two people who meant more to me than anyone in this fucked up world.

I stood frozen-numb-in the center of the room as my eyes traveled over the walls and bed. The photo on the nightstand of the two of us on our honeymoon smiling into the camera like the stupid, lovesick kids we were, dripped with blood. A piece of flesh hung on the corner, clinging to the wood in a desperate attempt to stay where it was before it finally succumbed to gravity and landed in the small pool of blood beneath it with a plop. The entire scene was like something out of a nightmare. The faces in the photo completely unrecognizable now.

My fingers went lax, and the gun slid from my hand to land on the hardwood floor with a loud thud. Silent tears ran down my face. "Why did you make me do this, Ale? Why?" I asked her. "WHY??"

My wife stared back at me with dark eyes that were vacant of the life that had once lit them from within. A life full of love and laughter. A life we had made together.

I refused to look below her neck, not wanting to see what I had done. I hadn't shot her in the face or head. I couldn't bring myself to do it, even though it would've been a quicker death. Because if I had, that would be the last image I had of my wife. That was the way I would always remember her. "Alessandra..." I whispered her name, afraid that, wherever she was, she would hear me and see what I'd done. Would she haunt me now? Destroy our beautiful home in her ethereal rage? The home I'd helped build with my bare hands?

My legs suddenly gave out, and I fell to my knees beside the gun, then forward onto my hands. Crawling across the floor, I somehow made my way over to her, slipping and sliding through the blood that trailed across the floor. I could barely see as an excruciating pain ripped open my chest, laying my heart bare, and tears streamed down my face. But somehow, I managed to find her hand. It lay limp and cold on the floor, and I picked it up and held it to my chest with both of mine, trying in vain to keep it warm.

Was she holding our son right now? Would she tell him how much I love him? How much I miss him?

Elliot had been gone for nearly a year, but I could still see his intelligent brown eyes. Still hear his giggles as I walked through the house when I got home, searching for my family, only to find them in some far corner of the house playing in whatever imaginary world they were visiting that day. He'd only lived four precious years before he was taken from us by a stray bullet. A bullet that had been meant for me.

After it happened, I'd gone a little bit mad for a while.

For Ale, the madness had never left.

I'd tried to keep her safe. To keep her in the background, where I'd hoped Luigi, the boss of the Italian mafia in Austin, would forget she even existed. I told her over and over that our son's death was nothing but an accident, and there wasn't anything that could've been done. But she wouldn't fucking listen to me. She was a mother who'd lost her child, and she wanted revenge against the man responsible. For her, that man wasn't the gunman, but Luigi, the one who'd groomed me since I was a child to join this life of crime.

We were young when we met, Alessandra and I. Teenagers. Way too young to fall in love and get married, even though we'd waited until she was finished with school. By that time, I'd already held my position as one of Luigi's top soldiers for two years. One of only two people he trusted with his youngest son.

Alessandra wasn't from our world. She hated the fact that I was involved with the mafia and was always telling me to get out and find a respectable job. However, this life she hated so much was the only one I knew. What else was I supposed to do? I never went to college. Never learned a trade. As a member of La Cosa Nostra, I could provide well for her and any children we might have. She'd always have a good home. She wouldn't have to work unless she wanted to. And she'd have the other wives to keep her company.

But she wanted nothing to do with any of it. And when Elliot had died, she'd blamed me. Blamed the family. Especially Luigi. As the boss, she believed he should've protected us. And she was right. However, if I'd gone after him, I only would've been signing my own death warrant. I would've left her completely alone in this world that would never accept her but would never allow her to be free. Because even with me gone, she would never be allowed to escape. I was smart enough to know this. Alessandra hadn't cared.

She'd gotten out of control. First attacking him with her bare fists at the funeral, and then driving to his house with one of my guns. And it had only gotten worse from there.

Before I knew it, she was snooping around on my computer and phone, trying to find the right time and place to get to him. This she admitted openly to me, throwing it in my face that she'd been able to get into everything so easily, and eventually I had no choice but to tell Luigi so he could take precautions. I told him she was grieving as any mother would, and that over time she would grow to accept our son's death. He listened and was sympathetic, but he couldn't take the chance that she would somehow get through his men. However, to show his appreciation of my loyalty, or maybe to test it further, he told me I could be the one to take her out. Before she did something really stupid and got someone else killed or brought the FBI down on our heads.