Evelina

(xxiii)

Vincenzo

They knew my weakness now. She was my weakness. In all the time I'd been trapped here, Vera was the one thing keeping me from giving up. My hands were chained to the cold, unforgiving wall, iron shackles biting into my wrists, disabling any movement. I could feel the weight of defeat trying to crush me, but when they dragged her in—half-naked, vulnerable, trembling—something inside me refused to break.

"Please... don't hurt her," I begged, my voice cracking as I watched them whip Vera in front of me. Every strike felt like it was carving through my own flesh, tearing me apart. "I'll do anything." I pleaded with them, my desperation spilling out, raw and aching.

But they remained silent, indifferent. Cold eyes watched without mercy, and I knew exactly what they wanted. The Queen. But the truth was... I didn't know who Queen was. And even if I did, there was no way I would betray her. But maybe for this. Maybe for Vera.

"Boys, take a break," came a casual, almost bored voice from the corner. Aiden. He sat there, smugly watching the whole display, shoveling popcorn into his mouth as if we were his entertainment for the night. The kind of sick, twisted satisfaction he took in all this was enough to make my blood boil.

The men obeyed without a word, removing my shackles and freeing Vera before stepping out of the room. The silence after their departure felt suffocating, thick with unspoken pain. As soon as the door closed behind them, I collapsed to the ground, crawling over to Vera as fast as my beaten body would allow.

"Vera, I'm so sorry," I whispered, gathering her fragile, shaking form into my arms. Her head fell against my chest, and I could feel her shallow breaths, each one labored, each one costing her more than it should. I cradled her like she was made of glass, my heart breaking at the sight of her bruised and battered body.

She gave me a weak, broken smile, her lips trembling as she fought through the pain. "Tell me one of your stories, Vincenzo," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes fluttered closed as she winced from the pain, but still, she asked for a story. She always loved my stories.

I placed a trembling hand on her forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair stuck to her skin. "Shh... don't talk. I'll tell you one," I said softly, trying to soothe her. I needed to keep her calm, to keep her mind off the agony. "Let me tell you about when Evelina became the Donna."

Vera's breathing slowed a little as I began to speak, her body relaxing just slightly as I recounted the story, trying to transport her somewhere far away from this hell we were trapped in.

"Evelina was married to my brother, Tony, for a few months," I began, my voice steady but soft, "but our people never called her Donna, not officially. Not yet. My brother, though, he was already the Don. One day, the German Mafia attacked our base in Italy. It was chaos—gunfire, explosions, the smell of smoke in the air. My brother fought with everything he had, but he was outnumbered, injured. Evelina, like she did every day, brought him lunch, completely unaware of the war that had broken out."

I paused, pulling Vera closer as I continued. "She should have run. Any normal person would have turned and fled the moment they saw what was happening. But not Evelina. She took out her gun and joined the fight. When she spotted Tony, she ran to him, bullets flying all around her, but she didn't flinch. Tony was hurt—shot in the leg, bleeding out. As he lay there, losing consciousness, the last words he said before fainting were, 'Evelina Giannino is my wife and your Donna. Follow her commands for now.'"

A tear slid down my cheek, the weight of those words still haunting me. "Evelina proved that day she was worthy of the title. She fought harder than anyone, led our men with a fierceness I'd never seen before. She was Donna in every sense of the word from that moment on."

I glanced down at Vera. She had drifted off, her breathing deep and even. I let out a breath of relief. Good. She needed the rest. I gently laid her down on the cold floor beside me, lying next to her, holding her hand, and letting the weight of exhaustion pull me under.

But sleep didn't last long.

I was jolted awake by the sound of the cell door creaking open. My body reacted instinctively, shifting closer to Vera, shielding her with my own, ready to protect her at any cost. My eyes scanned the shadowy figures approaching us.

And then I heard it.

"Vincenzo?" a voice whispered, broken, trembling.

I blinked, barely processing the sound. It couldn't be. But it was unmistakable. Eve.

"King, I found them!" Eve called out urgently, her voice filled with emotion, directed at someone outside the room. King? What the hell was going on?

And then another voice—lighter, familiar. "Hey, I did too!" The relief in that voice made my chest tighten. Janice.

They were here. They found us.

I felt the tension that had been coiling inside me finally unravel. The rescue... they were here. I glanced down at Vera one last time, her face peaceful, resting, and then I let myself fall back into the waiting arms of exhaustion, my body finally giving in.

The nightmare wasn't over, but maybe, just maybe, there was a way out.

---

"Just hold on a little longer, Enzo," I heard Eve's soft voice as she gently patted my head, cradled in her lap. Her fingers traced soothing circles, but I could still hear the tremor in her voice.

"Did... did you save Vera?" I rasped, feeling each word scrape against the ache in my throat.

"Yes, I did," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Why would you worry about her when you're... barely holding on yourself?" She choked back a sob, but I managed a weak smile.

"Because I'm... just that charming," I mumbled, feigning lightheartedness to break the tension. "And besides," I continued, winking up at her, "don't mess up my handsome face with those... dirty tears."

Eve ignored my attempt to joke, her gaze lifting to the front of the car. "Lexi, how much farther to the safe house?"

"Almost there," came Lexi's firm voice from the driver's seat. "Just hold tight."

Eve looked down at me, a soft, determined smile breaking through her worry. "We're almost home, Enzo," she whispered, a fragile hope in her tone. "Just a little longer. You're safe with us."

Home. To most, it was a place of warmth and comfort. For me, it was simply anywhere I could escape the chaos, a place where I could finally close my eyes and surrender to the quiet pull of darkness, knowing—at least for now—I was safe because there are people who would die for me.