𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝟏𝟖+

42

Love's POV

"I have to head back to the states," Enzo said, just after jumping out of bed, his back facing me while he packed quickly.

The time between the end of the phone call and now was abrupt.

As soon as he answered, his body tensed. I knew something was wrong.

My brows furrowed in confusion as I sat up on the bed, "what?"

"There's something for me to handle." His tone was short. Clipped.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, "could you be any more vague?" I got out of bed to stand behind him, my arms crossed. "Talk to me."

He faced me, his gaze was soft with a hint of sorrow. "You won't like what I have to say."

"I don't like what you have to say half of the time," I let out a breathy chuckle, "that never stops you."

"Santiago and Soren know."

I blinked in complete and utter disbelief.

"Know what?" My voice more stern than I wanted it to be.

"About me. About what I do."

"How the fuck do they know?!" I asked, a hand running through my curly hair. "Do they know that I know? Fuck."

I paced around the spacious room, stepping over piles of my clothes I've yet to fold.

My protective ass older brothers found out that the guy I've been fucking is a fucking Mafia Boss. I was smart in unintentionally avoiding their calls.

"I don't know, Love." I could tell he was frustrated, as was I, "Santiago didn't exactly get into the juicy details while he was cussing me out, calling me a piece of shit murdering motherfucker."

I scoffed, wondering how the fuck I became the object of his frustration.

"Check your tone with me, Lorenzo." I said, making my way back toward him. "I'm not the bad guy here."

"I'm sorry," he expressed, taking my hand in his, "but I am."

"No, you're not." I firmly assured, squeezing his hand softly. "Sure you do bad shit, but they don't know anything specific, so they're just assuming."

"But I am what they think I am, Love. I take lives with no second thought. No matter what light you shine upon me, I'll always be the bad guy. I haven't felt remorse in a long time."

He was right.

"You were taught to do that, Enzo. Your father made you do those things," I argued, hoping he'd agree instead of revealing he wanted to kill people.

Lorenzo's face went blank as he thought for a moment. "I never objected. Not once. I never fought for what I knew was right," his voice started to break, "I don't want to be this person anymore, Love. I can't turn back time. It's too late. People are dead and there are hundreds of peoples blood on my hands."

Tears swelled in his eyes, but none fell.

"There is redemption for everyone." I placed a gentle, reaffirming hand on his chest. "I believe in you. You need to, too, Enzo."

"The thing is, Love, I don't know how to be better."

My lips curved into a small smile. "That's why I'm here." I turned around and walked toward my suitcases, and started putting stray clothes inside.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, his voice quiet.

"You don't know what packing looks like?" I turned slightly toward him and sent a small smirk over my shoulder, "I'm coming with you."