Hexed (Never After #6)

37. Venesa

THIRTY-SEVEN

VENESA

I’m no stranger to New York, but it’s not like I’m a frequent traveler.

Still, I’ve been here enough over the last few years of my life that it doesn’t feel foreign. It never has, even when I was visiting for the first time. The hustle and bustle of the city is comforting in a way that can’t be replicated anywhere else.

Back in Atlantic Cove, things are slower paced. And everyone knows everyone who knows something about someone else. Here I meld with the crowds, and there’s a sense of peace in the anonymity that provides.

This i s my first time tracking down Enzo while I’m here, though, and if I thought he was bigger than the world when he was visiting South Carolina, I had no idea how big he really is here in New York.

Everyone knows his name, which works out in my favor, because I wasn’t 100 percent certain he’d be back home already.

I always thought the Mafia would live a simple life, hidden in the shadows and away from the public eye, but I guess John Gotti really changed the landscape with his flashy suits and paparazzi-perfect smile.

I’m thankful for it, though, because it was incredibly easy to figure out that he was back home already and get some tips on where he might be.

When I first arrived, I took a couple of days to gather myself. I scraped together all the money I had, which amounted to about three thousand bucks. Not a lot when you’re traveling to a different state and have nowhere to stay.

I’ve been at a cheap motel in Yorkville, saving every penny until I can figure out what I’m planning to do. The only part I’ve got so far is to find Enzo, tell him the truth about everything , and ask him to help me take down my uncle for good.

It’s a risk, and it’s not one I’m taking lightly.

There’s a really high probability he won’t say yes and an even higher one he’ll kick me out on my ass, or worse, kill me when he finds out what I’ve been keeping from him.

But every time I rethink my decision of coming out here and finding him, I reach up and grasp my seashell necklace, and a sense of belonging overcomes me.

I have to take the chance.

Then I’ll let him marry Aria, and I’ll walk away, never asking for another thing, which is why I’m at one of Enzo’s clubs, the Royale.

It’s nice. Busy. Easy to blend in, which is what I’m hoping for. At least right now.

I slip onto the only open barstool at the bar and order a club soda with lime, just to give me something to do while I figure out how to find Enzo. I don’t even know if this is where he is; I just know this is one place he frequents.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the bartender says to me with a smirk, throwing a white towel over his shoulder.

I smile back at him and take a sip of my club soda, leaning my elbows on the bar top and looking out over the small round tables and stages with gorgeous women dancing half-nude. It’s a beautiful sight.

“What gave it away?” I ask.

He laughs and wipes down a spot beside me before picking up a pint glass and filling it from the tap. “Where are you from? Tennessee?”

I purse my lips. “Mmm.”

His grin grows when I don’t reply with an affirmative or negative.

“Come on, pretty. Don’t play so hard to get.” He leans in closer, and I can tell he’s flirting. It feels nice, so I don’t dissuade him.

My eyes slide past him to the edge of the bar, where I do see someone I know.

Scotty .

A spark of warmth hits my chest, and it catches me by such surprise that my hand flies up to cover the feeling.

I glance at the bartender. “Who says I can be ‘gotten’?”

Scotty’s eyes skim over the room, widening when they land on me. Immediately, he heads over, his gaze flicking back and forth between the bartender and me.

When he reaches us, he grips me harshly by the upper arm. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, sounding almost panicked.

I pat his hand and remove his fingers. “Hi to you too, cutie.”

“Scotty, you know anything about this one?” the bartender asks. “She’s a steel trap.” He laughs, but it dies off quickly when Scotty reaches over the bar and punches him in the shoulder.

“You don’t talk to her.” Scotty points his finger. “You don’t even look at her.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” He backs up from the bar and puts his hands in the air.

I scoff and roll my eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“You don’t worry about what it is neither,” Scotty demands. The guy nods and listens, barely giving me another glance before he’s off and down to the other end, talking to another patron.

I click my tongue. Coward .

“Wow, you’re a powerful man around here, huh?” I ask Scotty.

“Does E know you’re here?” He reaches for me again, but I slide from the barstool and stand just out of his reach.

“Quit trying to manhandle me. And no, actually. I’m trying to find him. Do you know where he is?”

He shakes his head and taps his fingers on the bar. “You shouldn’t be here, Venesa. This ain’t no game. New York’s no place for you right now.”

I reach out and cup his cheek, giving him a wide grin. “Scotty, quit treating me like I’m some damsel in distress and tell me where to find Enzo. I need to talk to him. It’s important.”

He purses his lips and tilts his head, like he can’t quite decide what to do with me. “Listen, he’s not here, but I’ll tell him you’re in town, okay? You got a number for me?”

I nod, disappointment settling heavy in my chest as I tell him where Enzo can reach me, and then I sip from my drink as I watch Scotty disappear into the crowd.

Something feels off, so I slip a ten out of the pocket in my bra and leave it on the bar top before following Scotty across the main floor and into a back hallway.

The layout here is actually pretty similar to the Lair, except on a larger scale. But it’s the same hallway and then stairs into a basement where things are not what they seem.

The underground of the Royale is a different world. I can smell the sweat and testosterone in the air, and bodies are packed together like sardines, hovering close to a cage with a platform in the center.

Two men are there, bloody and bruised, whit tape on their hands as they fight. If the club upstairs is nice, then this place is primitive.

I find Enzo immediately.

Scotty, that little liar.

Enzo is standing off in a corner, dressed to perfection as usual, with his hands in his pockets. His brows are scrunched, and his head is tilted while he listens to something a large man with dark brown hair and a gun strapped to his shoulder is saying in his ear.

I push my way through the bodies, attempting to get closer to Enzo, but I don’t walk all the way over yet. I hang back, watching him in his element.

He’s more at ease, maybe. More in control. There’s a sophistication to his posture, and it’s clear everyone defers to him, leaving space like they know better than to get too close.

Suddenly, his head snaps in my direction, and his eyes glance around.

Is it silly to think that maybe he can feel me here?

Men are surrounding him—real bodyguards, I can tell immediately. And this version of Enzo Marino is much different from the vacation version I saw of him in South Carolina.

A petty part of me—the envious part—wonders if Aria has ever seen him like this, and if she has…did he like it when she saw?

But of course, who am I kidding? He probably parades her throughout New York, the shining beauty at his side.

A hand grips my upper arm tightly, and I bite back a hiss, coming face-to-face with Scotty’s panicked eyes.

“Hey, cutie.” I grin. “Miss me?”

“Did you follow me?” he asks, glancing around.

“No offense, Scotty, but you’re not so great at being inconspicuous, you know?”

He blinks at me.

“Take it as a lesson.” I reach out and pat his cheek. “Something to work on for later.”

I pull away from his hold, but he tightens his hand on me again. “Come on, I gotta get you outta here before E sees.”

My grin drops, and I scowl at him because I don’t appreciate being manhandled. “Take your hands off me. I won’t ask again.”

He freezes, probably because I’ve never spoken to him this way, but he doesn’t remove his grip.

“You lied to me, Scotty. And I don’t appreciate liars, so let me tell you a truth. If you don’t take your hands off me, everyone in here will get to see what a real show looks like.”

Scotty’s jaw clenches like he can’t decide if my threat is genuine, and then his eyes widen and look behind me.

Goose bumps sprout along my body from the presence suddenly at my back.

“No free shows, baby,” says a dark voice.