Let Me Love You

“Alice must’ve had someone tamper with the footage,” I told Constantine over the line after hacking the security cameras at my apartment building. “It’s been erased.”

My body was coiled tight, palms sweaty. But that uneasy feeling I’d had since New York had sharpened into a finely pointed knife now that I was back home, and I was getting cut with worry from every angle.

I’d yet to hear from Hudson, but my gut told me I was right. Everything had gone down so fast Thursday that I had missed something.

If someone had provided the three idiotas with a key fob, what if that someone had been Thomas? What if he was purposefully framed by Alice but also complicit in everything?

The key fob was a reach, but it was all I had to go on aside from a hunch until I heard from Hudson, and he was at the hospital attempting to get Jensen to talk. Well, write, since his jaw was wired shut.

“What if I hack the hospital records to see if Thomas’s mother was ever a patient? If he lied about that as an excuse to take Chiara away to get out of town, then—” I let go of my words at the realization I had an incoming call. “It’s Agent Lee. I’ll call you back.”

“I’m going to tell you something,” Agent Lee started once I’d answered, “but first I need you to promise you won’t act on your own.”

“Tell me,” I bit out. “Jensen knows something, am I right?” I had to assume Agent Lee had gone with Hudson to the hospital to question him.

A hard breath fanned out over the line. “Yes.”

“Who?” My heart pounded as I waited for him to give me the name, knowing that bad feeling and worry were justified. There was one more loose end. But was it Thomas?

“I put together a team in Charlotte to pick him up. They’re waiting outside his house, but he’s not home yet. His plane landed an hour ago, though, so he’s in Charlotte. I need you to let the Feds handle this one.”

“Give me his name, damn it.”

“Does the name Thomas—”

I never let him finish. I dropped the phone and rushed next door as fast as possible.

When I tested the knob, the door opened. No, fuck, she had this locked.

“Maria,” I called out, and my stomach fell at the sight of Chiara’s favorite stuffed animal in the living room.

I hadn’t felt this empty, this scared, since the moment I’d known Bianca was gone from the world, hours before my family had called to let me know what had happened.

No, no, no.

I ran down the hall and went still in the doorway of her bedroom at the sight of Thomas pinning her to the dresser, trying to stop her from hitting him.

“Let. Her. Go,” I hissed, taking slow steps with him near her, not wanting her to get hurt.

When Thomas shifted to the side, and I saw Maria’s bloody nose, my world stopped. Everything went silent.

“She hit her head,” he quickly rushed out in a panic. “It was an accident.”

Maria relaxed her arms to her sides as Thomas backed away from her. “Enzo,” she whispered.

“Go to Chiara’s room and lock the door,” I said in a low voice, staring at a man who knew he was seconds away from death.

Maria hesitantly moved around Thomas, but I couldn’t rip my gaze away from him as she quietly passed me.

Once I was alone with him, I cocked my head, studying him. Deciding how I’d kill him.

“Please,” he begged. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t know they were going to kill you. Just rough you up.”

I kept quiet. The dark chaos inside me had been reignited, seeing Maria hurt. The demons I’d worked to lock up only this weekend were about to rage free.

Thomas lifted his hands and backed up, all the way to the window, as if he could save himself. But I was already painting the glass with his blood in my mind.

I prowled his way with slow steps, then snatched his wrist and twisted, dropping him to one knee as he whimpered. Reaching down, I squeezed his jaw so he had to look me in the eyes.

Freeing his wrist, I pulled my fist back, preparing to connect it with his face and every other part of him.

But my hand didn’t move. Didn’t budge.

The soft sounds of Chiara’s crying in the distance had me going still.

Then Isabella’s words punched through my mind, taking their toll on me: “Bianca believed in forgiveness. Mercy.”

I blinked, trying to focus, to finish this man. But thoughts of Maria and Chiara shot through my mind, and my hand shook.

Thomas stared at me, confusion in his eyes, wondering why I hadn’t hit him yet.

Fucking same.

“Maria,” I yelled for her before I changed my mind.

“Enzo?” she whispered from behind me a moment later, more than likely surprised Thomas wasn’t covered in blood.

“Do you want him alive?” I asked, my tone rough, anger still fiercely running its course through me.

“I . . . um.” A pause. “Yes.”

My shoulders fell. “Then I need a phone. The Feds are waiting at his house to arrest him.” I shook my head, shocked at what I was doing. “They need to come here instead.” I lowered my arm and leaned in closer to him. “You don’t deserve mercy,” I told him, “but I’m giving it to you. Consider yourself the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet,” I added just before knocking him unconscious.

“I honestly don’t know how you didn’t kill him.” Ryan had his arms crossed in his kitchen later that night.

I set the knife alongside the cutting board and looked at my two reasons why Thomas wasn’t dead. Maria and Chiara. “I wanted to kill him,” I admitted. “The things I wanted to do to that man are too vile to say aloud,” I added in a low voice, thinking back to the text from Agent Lee after the Feds from the Charlotte field office arrested Thomas, and he’d thanked me for not painting Maria’s bedroom walls with blood.

“I suppose it’d be hard to start a life with them if you killed Chiara’s father.”

I blew out a ragged breath. I was exhausted, in need of a shower and sleep. But more than anything, I wanted to hold Maria and Chiara and protect them and never let go.

I’d also wanted to give Maria a small sense of normalcy after the hell she’d been through, so I’d offered to cook a late meal for everyone.

But today was so far from normal, I doubted a home-cooked meal would change anything.

Maria had to witness the father of her child arrested by the FBI only three hours ago inside her bedroom.

“She’ll be okay,” Ryan said as if reading my thoughts, and I looked at her bouncing Chiara on her leg, sitting by Natalia in the living room.

Maria was tough, sure. But she wasn’t a great actress, and I could easily see her struggling. She’d gone through far too much because of my past, and I had no idea how to reconcile the fact I was the cause of her pain.

I couldn’t let her lie to me and promise me she was okay. What if she had nightmares? Post-traumatic stress?

“I should’ve told her my concerns were about Thomas.” More guilt stacked on my shoulders.

“She’s okay. She was the one trying to beat Thomas up when you arrived. She’s strong.”

Maria had admitted she’d hit Thomas a few times before I’d shown up, and he hadn’t fought back. And that her bloody nose hadn’t been by his hand.

That didn’t change my disgust or hate for Thomas, though.

“The past is the past.” Ryan slapped a hand to my back, trying to ease the discomfort I still felt, and I peeled my focus over my shoulder to look at him.

“And that past came back to haunt me.”

“Thomas was the last loose end.” He set a hand over his heart. “You know I’d be the first one to tell you if I thought you were a risk to my wife and her family.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I hesitantly answered. “Also, thank you for letting us stay in the guest room until we can find a new place to live.”

My apartment and hers were now full of shitty memories I didn’t want surrounding her, and with Thomas more than likely going to prison for aiding the mafia, we had no reason to live in Uptown. It made more sense to be in Waxhaw by her family and the restaurant.

“Of course.”

My eyes connected with Maria’s from across the room, and she stopped talking and went quiet as I peered at her. And for whatever reason, this moment had me thinking back to Hudson’s bar six years ago when we’d exchanged looks before that kiss.

She’d been a virgin then. Hadn’t met Thomas. And still believed in fairy tales, searching for the kind of love she read about.

And I wanted that storybook ending for Maria, the one Bianca had written about just before dying. I blinked, realization hitting me at what I needed to do. “Can you watch the stove?” I asked without waiting for an answer, starting for Maria. She lifted her beautiful eyes and peered up at me as I said, “We need to talk.”

Worry passed over her face, but she quietly nodded and handed Chiara over to Natalia. I took her hand, and we went upstairs to the guest bedroom.

Once the door was shut, I motioned for her to sit on the bed. Chiara’s travel crib was set up by the bed, and I swallowed at the fact that what I was about to say would mean I wouldn’t be sharing a room with them tonight.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, taking a seat. “I mean, aside from the mess of the last five days.”

I let go of an uneasy breath and sat alongside her. She pivoted to face me, and I took her hand between my palms. “I want a do-over,” I admitted. “A clean slate. Fresh start.” I swallowed. “I don’t want this to be how our story begins, because it feels fucking doomed if it does.”

“Enzo.” Her free hand went to my cheek, her eyes thinning.

I thought back to the edited version of my sister’s story, the one published. The only version I’d read so far, which clearly lacked the behind-the-scenes details of my sister’s life. “I wish I could edit out everything that’s happened since Wednesday. But since that’s not possible, I’m going to ask you for the do-over instead.”

“What do you mean?”

I tightened my hold on her hand. “I want to take you out on dates. Flirt with you. Take things slowly. Give you the romance story you deserve.”

Her glossy eyes shed a tear, and her lips crooked at the edges. I wasn’t sure if that was a smile or frown she was fighting. “I don’t need that. I already love you. Accept you. You don’t need to do this. I just want us to be together.” She palmed my cheek. “If you’re in my life, my story is complete.”

“I love you so much that it hurts,” I confessed. “But that hurt is why I know we need to do this. The pain of my past is punishing, and I’m so damn terrified I’ll mess up.” My voice was rough. Emotions cutting through. The events of the week hammering my body, mind, and soul. Finally catching up with me. “Maybe it’s me who needs a fresh start. The chance to truly move on from my past, and somehow this reset feels like I—”

“Then yes,” she interrupted, both crying and nodding. “For you, yes. If you need this, I’ll do it. If you’re not trying to push me away because you think you’re a danger or some insanity like that, then yes.”

“You were right.” My brothers were right today. “You’re safer with me.”

“Good.” A heavy breath later, she shared in a shaky voice, “I promised you I’d be there for you to help you escape hell, and if for even a second you still feel like you’re there . . . I’m here for you.” She pulled her hand from mine and slipped her arms over my shoulders, drawing me in for a hug. “I’ve got your back like you have mine.”

“Fuck,” I cried against her neck, surrendering to every emotion I’d once battled to keep hidden. “I really am lost without you.”

“But I’ll always find you.” She offered a similar promise to the one I’d made to Izzy. “Just like I know you’ll always find me.”