Hexed (Never After #6)

47. Venesa

FORTY-SEVEN

VENESA

I’m frozen in place.

Enzo laughs again, disbelieving. But then he looks at me, the humor slowly dropping from his face until all that’s left is dawning realization.

I don’t have the will to keep watching because I know what will come next.

Betrayal.

Hatred.

My heart heaves and quivers, fissures cracking down every part like spiderwebs that bleed.

His father grins even wider, a sinister type of smile, when he sees what’s happening. “You and your uncle called him ‘Joey,’ though. Right? Very American, but that’s how he did business, thought it made him more appealing .”

I shake my head, but I’m not sure what for. He’s not lying. And as much as I want to hate him for bringing it to light, I can’t, because I’ve had plenty of opportunities, and I’ve been too weak. Too lost in the moment.

Too afraid to lose something I’ve been aching for my entire life.

Enzo looks from me to his father and then back again, and now he’s shaking his head, stepping away from both of us, his perfect hands tugging on the roots of his inky hair.

Bastien warned me this would happen, and deep down I knew it would too, but as much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t make the words come out, because I didn’t want to see him looking at me the way he is right now.

“Well.” His father claps his hands together once, reaching out to pick up the cane he stashed against the island. “What a pleasure it was to be the one to break the news. If your uncle and I weren’t on good terms when it happened, you’d be at the bottom of the Hudson, your body nothing more than fish food. But we made a deal instead. We work together and I let you live.”

His words hit their mark, but I don’t take my eyes off Enzo.

“My uncle was hired by someone,” I say, suspicion winding its way through my gut. “It was an order, not an attack by him.”

“Like that makes a difference,” Carlos hisses.

He takes a step toward me, and when Enzo doesn’t move to stop him, those fissures in my heart gape wider.

“You’re a plague on this city, and your uncle is a dumb American idiot who was useful for a time but now ceases to matter,” he continues and then looks to Enzo. “You told me you had my back, figlio mio . That you were the only one I could trust. So prove it.”

Enzo’s jaw stiffens.

“Kill her. Or I’ll come back and do the job myself.”

My stomach bottoms out, but I don’t try to move away.

I expect Carlos to stay, to make sure the job is done, but he surprises me, spinning on his heel and leaving as quickly as he came.

The air is so tense and silent, I almost wish he had stayed.

“Enzo,” I whisper brokenly, taking a step forward, reaching out to touch him.

“Don’t,” he snaps, jerking his arm out of my hold before I can get a good grasp.

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I lick my lips and try again. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t…I didn’t know you back then.”

“What the fuck, Venesa? What the fuck ?” His voice cracks, and hearing that vulnerability, that slight break in his stature, well…it feels like it’s breaking me . I stand still and let the hurt come because I know I deserve it.

A weird pressure builds behind my nose and eyes, and I force it back down.

He finally looks up at me, his eyes burning with anger and hurt. “Tell me it’s not true.”

I shake my head, my mouth opening and closing because it’s still hard to find the words.

“Say it,” he hisses, taking a step closer. “You had all the time in the world until now, and you were silent. You fucking owe me this. Say it. ”

Everything inside me wants to deny it, to take a metaphorical piece of duct tape and slap it over my mouth so the words won’t come out. He’s right. I do owe it to him, even if it ends up being at my own expense.

“It’s true,” I admit.

I should have told him when I had the chance.

“I swear to God, Enzo, if I knew I was gonna fall for you…if I knew that I’d fall in?—”

He storms forward, pressing his hand to my mouth and backing me against the wall. It’s gentle, the way he does it, and the fact he still isn’t hurting me is almost more painful than if he had.

“Don’t you dare say those words to me,” he snarls.

The first real crack in my chest happens now. It aches like I’m bleeding out, a pulsing, throbbing monster that’s roaring inside my body and demolishing everything in its path, and it’s so overwhelming, I wonder if it’s possible to actually die of a broken heart. If the pain will be too much and I’ll just collapse and wither into nothing.

I deserve it, if so.

“I can’t even stand to touch you.” He drops his hand from my mouth, but he doesn’t back away.

“I had never met him before,” I force out. “But Joey?—”

“Giuseppe,” he corrects.

“Giuseppe…he worked with my uncle, like he told you. They were planning to expand. And then I guess something went wrong? I don’t know the details. Uncle T just told me what to do, and I did it. The same way I always did.”

He huffs out a broken laugh. “And that makes it okay?”

I throw my hands up, desperation filling my bones and leaking out through my pores because I can tell I’m losing him. The way I knew I would.

These past weeks of finally feeling like I mattered, like I was someone’s choice and I…well, I guess I never chose him. Not really anyway. Not enough.

“What did you want me to say? What’s the appropriate way to tell someone you care about that you murdered their brother?”

That pressure’s back now, building in my throat and behind my eyes, and then suddenly, a sob breaks from my mouth, and it catches me so off guard, my hands fly up to cover the noise.

Enzo gets in my face, his nose almost brushing mine.

It’s the first time I don’t feel the attraction between us, because it’s stifled—muted—transformed into this ugly, vile thing that digs its teeth into breaking organs and shatters them until they’re jagged and bleeding.

“How did you do it?” he asks.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

His hand flies into the wall next to me, punching it so hard, a crack forms. My heart jumps into my throat, but I don’t flinch, because I know that no matter how angry he gets, he wouldn’t hurt me. Not like this. Not with punches and kicks.

He might kill me for what I’ve done, but I don’t fear it.

“Your brother liked his escorts,” I admit.

Enzo’s face pales even further than normal, and he stumbles back a step. “Did you sleep with my brother?”

“What?” My brows furrow, a dawning horror sweeping over me. “God, no. I just posed as one to get into his room. I drugged his drink and did what the contract said to do.”

This gives him pause. “You were told how to kill him?”

I shrug, forcing the words out but unable to meet his eyes because there’s this giant ball of tension forming in my chest, and if I look at him right now, it feels like it will explode. “Yeah, sometimes Uncle T has stipulations on how it goes down. Does that not happen in your world?”

I risk a peek at his face, and he swallows, lifting his chin. “It does.”

My brows draw in, my mind piecing together a puzzle. “You don’t think your father…”

He shakes his head, looking at me with disgust, and that look, that’s what I was trying to avoid. Enzo’s the first person to stare at me like I’m the only thing he can see, like I’m the most important person in the universe and he’d choose me a thousand times over.

Now he just looks cold, and his hatred pours over me like ice water.

But I’ll wait to let it consume me until I’m alone because I’ve already done enough damage. The least I can do is not fall apart right in front of him.

“You should have told me.” His voice cracks. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

“If I had told you back in South Carolina, I would have been betraying my uncle. My family .”

“Well, congratulations, Venesa.” He grips my wrists, and his touch burns like an iron brand. “Now you can live with knowing you’ve betrayed me .”

I try to move in closer to him, but he firmly holds me away.

“If I had known you back then…” I drop my gaze to the floor because suddenly it’s too hard to speak.

“I should kill you,” he says in a broken whisper, his grasp tightening until blood stops flowing to my fingers.

“So kill me.” I force the words out. “Do it. I won’t stop you.”

I won’t fight him off if that’s what he chooses. If it’s something that will bring him some closure—some peace.

The only problem is some wounds can’t ever heal.

Betrayal by a person you trusted.

The death of someone you loved.

Whether or not Enzo wants to admit it to me, I know what we have was real, even if it was for a short time. And he has a soft heart, gentler than mine. One that torments itself. And a part of me just knows that as angry as he is, as much as he might hate me…if he kills me, he’ll never forgive himself.

His eyes latch on to mine, and even though it hurts, even though it feels like pieces of my heart are being chipped away and falling into dust at his feet, I don’t look away.

His hands tremble against my skin, and water lines his lower lids.

Nausea crawls up my throat.

He drops my wrists, backing up several steps. “You’re not worth it.”

Then he turns around and walks away.

I’m frozen in place, a strange feeling mounting from the base of my stomach, up into my chest, and surging through my pores. This…pressure.

The elevator dings, and he’s leaving.

He’s leaving.

Even though I have no right to stay.

Slowly, I slide to the floor, my back against the side of the island, and I stare blankly at the oven, where our dinners sit, half plated and growing cold. My hand absent-mindedly reaches up and grips my seashell necklace like it’s a lifeline.

In a different life…

That pressure’s back, churning and building, and then something wet escapes the corner of my left eye, trailing over my lashes, down my cheek, and dripping off my chin.

I watch as it forms a small dot on the fabric of my shirt.

And then another.

And another.

I press my fingers to my flushed skin, my heart pounding faster and faster until it ruptures, like a dam breaking, water rushing over a dry landscape and engulfing everything in its wrath.

“See ya later, Lover Boy.” I hiccup softly.

And for the first time since I was a child, I’m crying.

It took me a while to get myself together and leave Enzo’s house, but I knew it was what had to happen.

He won’t want me there when he gets back, and despite everything—regardless of how my soul feels broken and bruised—I respect him enough to not stay and beg for forgiveness on something that’s unforgivable. I always knew this would be the outcome.

And honestly, I’m not sorry I killed his brother. It was my job. It’s what I’ve done a hundred other times, without question, and it happened long before Enzo and I even knew of each other. But I regret how it’s hurting him, and I definitely regret with every single part of me that I was too much of a disaster to find the courage to tell him about it when I had the chance. I don’t know that the outcome would have been any different, but at least he would have heard it from me, instead of feeling like I’ve been lying to him.

Technically, it was just an omission, but an omission is sometimes worse than a lie.

I’m back at the hotel room in the Marino, and I’m throwing my few belongings in my duffel bag, phone up to my ear as I try to call Fisher and tell him I’m coming back and need him to help me stay under the radar until I’m ready to do what I need to do.

Kill my uncle. Even if I have to do it with a broken heart.

It’s a risk going back there to plan, but it’s the best option I have.

Of course…it would help if Fisher would actually answer his phone.

It clicks over to his voicemail again , and I throw it down, tapping my foot and debating what to do.

I’ll just go to Bastien’s hotel room .

The only thing I know for sure is that I can’t stay here . Even if I wanted to, this is Enzo’s hotel, and I don’t deserve it. Besides, he didn’t kill me the way his father demanded, and if I stay, I’ll only be putting his own safety in jeopardy.

I pick up my phone and shoot off a quick text to Bastien.

Hey, he found out, and it didn’t go well. You’re right, I should have told him. Come by my room or I’ll be by yours in 20.

My chest aches when I type out the words, and I reach up to grab the seashell around my neck for comfort, but just hit blank skin, then remember I took it off back at Enzo’s and left it on his kitchen island. I don’t deserve to have it because that necklace represented our romantic relationship but also our friendship, both of which I ground into dust carelessly when I withheld something so monumental even after I knew I had feelings for him.

There’s a knock on the door right when I finish zipping up my duffel bag.

My mind is speeding in a thousand different directions, and it’s hard to think straight anyway with how badly my soul hurts, so maybe that’s why there’s a moment where I’ve convinced myself it’s Enzo.

That maybe he’s forgiven me even though I don’t deserve it.

My chest cramps at the thought.

Ridiculous, Venesa. He wouldn’t be here.

But Bastien would.

I don’t even look in the peephole. I’m going on autopilot and assuming it’s Bastien.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say when I open the door, turning before I see him.

Because I know what I’ll find, and I don’t want to deal with an “I told you so” look right now.

“Good. I don’t want to hear it anyway.”

My entire body freezes, and I spin around, coming face-to-face with that bitch of Enzo’s assistant, Jessica.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, confused.

She grins. “Just following the boss’s orders.”

My brows furrow. “Enzo sent you?” Wow. Talk about hitting me when I’m down.

She smiles, throws back her head, and cackles. “Enzo’s not the man in charge, honey. Carlos is.”

Then she pulls out what looks like a tranquilizer gun and pulls the trigger.

I look down, shocked, and feeling like the stupidest person on the planet, I see a tranq dart sticking out of my leg. I try to move forward, but my head is already woozy, and I stumble back instead, my hand flying to the small bookshelf against the wall and knocking against that damn globe. It falls to the ground and breaks, but my hearing must be fuzzy because the sound is muted and dull.

So is my vision.

I drop to the floor, my knees cracking against the marble, and then Jessica moves over me with a grin on her face. “Oh, I’m so going to enjoy this.”

Then she shoots me with another dart, and I see nothing but black.