Bend Me, Daddy

Enzo

Slowly, I reached up and removed my sunglasses from my face. It was a risk to remove that barrier and allow this man to see me. Really see me. I couldn't allow him to see the pain immobilizing my limbs. The heartbreak cracking open my chest. I needed to be cold. Distant. Unfeeling. And if I pulled this off, it would be the greatest fucking performance of my life.

The barrel of the nine-millimeter rose a notch until it was pointed directly at the center of my forehead. Dust motes danced in the sunshine streaming in from the single high window on my left, and the muted sounds of techno music rose up through the floorboards from downstairs. Otherwise, the room was completely still and silent.

I watched them drift through the air for a moment before I refocused on the piece of shit holding that gun. He narrowed his eyes on mine, trying to put on a tough facade, but I saw the flash of uncertainty cross his jowled face when he noticed no fear staring back at him. After all, what did I have to be afraid of? Death? I wasn't afraid of death.

I was more afraid of being the only one left alive.

He stepped closer until I could smell the stench of spicy sausage oozing from his pores and hear the labored breaths fighting to put air into his lungs as he tried to contain his temper.

I sighed heavily at his dramatics, and once again told him my answer to his ultimatum. "My answer is no. I suggest you come to terms with it before things get ugly. For you."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Luca raise his hand, indicating for him to lower the gun as he stepped closer to me. Ciro did not follow his directive. "Enzo," he said in a low voice meant for my ears only. "Think about this."

Never taking my eyes from the man in front of me, I told him, "No. I'm finished with her, and we'll have no need for her after today. I'm not going to let this mezzo di merda, this piece of shit, bully me into marrying his daughter so he can run around bragging that he conned you into it." Then louder, "I don't want her." I emphasized my words so there would be no confusion. The conviction in my voice rang clearly through the lies falling off my tongue, echoing off the bare walls of the clubroom where we had agreed to meet this fucking stronzo.

A strangled sob sounded to my left, and every muscle in my body ached with the effort not to look at the "her" I spoke of, or to acknowledge her in any way. Because if I did, this day wouldn't end well for either of us. I was taking a huge risk by sending her back to her father, but this was the only way to keep her safe...

From me.

I saw the way she looked at me just now. The hope that lit up her perfect face and shone from her bright eyes. Hope for a happily ever after I could never give her. "That's not what you were thinking when you fucked my Fina, stealing her innocence!" he roared. "Something she kept close to her as a gift for her future husband!"

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I hated that nickname for her. It wasn't who she was.

"Father!" she cried. "Jesus Christ!"

In my peripheral vision, I saw her take a rapid step back as his head snapped to the side, nostrils flaring at her disrespect. She'd forgotten herself again. Forgotten who she was speaking to. I tensed, prepared to throw myself between his gun and his daughter. She knew better than to push him when he was like this. Italian men weren't known for their cool heads, and this particular man was from the old generation, the one who believed women should be seen but not heard. They had no say over their lives in his world. But though his hand began to shake, he managed to control himself enough to keep the weapon pointed at me.

I talked to distract him. "She's right," I told him. "Your daughter's innocence or lack thereof was her decision, not yours. Perhaps you don't have the hold over her you think you do." I paused, pretending to consider my words. "Still, you seem to feel she broke a promise to you. However, if there was a promise made, it was between you and her. And I'm not going to pay her debt to you with my life. Dead or alive."

As I'd hoped, his attention-and his rage-was now focused fully back on me. This guy was a fucking joke. He didn't give a fuck about his daughter's virtue, other than the fact that she wasn't worth as much to him now that it was gone. Any plans he'd had to barter her off to some disgusting old man with a little girl fetish in exchange for power and a higher position within the family was out the fucking window. But it did not make her any less of a prize. She deserved better than that life.

She deserved better than me.

"Enzo." Luca had that tone in his voice. The tone an underboss of La Cosa Nostra used when he wasn't going to take any more bullshit from me. The one that boded ill for anyone who didn't do exactly as he said. "You will do right by this girl. And we will discuss the terms of the marriage like gentlemen. This could still work to our advantage. We need everyone we can get on our side if I'm going to dethrone my father." He didn't bother to try to lower his voice. Luca was nothing if not straightforward. And making arrangements such as this was how things worked in our world. Very rarely did any kind of deal happen without it being advantageous for both parties involved.

"We don't need him," I argued without taking my eyes off the weapon pointed at me. "And I'm sorry, Luca. But I won't do this. There's no way in hell I'm marrying his whore of a daughter just because she thought fucking me would save her from having to spread her legs for the man her father chose for her. She's a rebellious brat whose plan didn't work out the way she thought it would. But that's not my problem."

Blocking out her muffled cry of pain I'd caused with the dagger of my words, I watched in amusement as her father's face, already red with anger, became mottled with purple. The hand that held the gun jerked, unable to lock down its aim on my face, and spittle sprayed my face as he roared with rage.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Luca take a step toward him, but he was too late. My ears rang as the gun went off. A fraction of a second later, a trail of fire burned along the left side of my face just below my eye. A woman's scream filled the air as everyone in the room froze.

I didn't so much as flinch as the bullet grazed my cheek. I just smiled, and put my sunglasses back on as Tristan tackled Ciro to the ground and Luca wrestled the gun away from him. But her father wasn't alone. He'd brought four of his own men along for our meeting, and they wasted no time jumping in on the fight to protect their boss. As did Luca's two soldiers who'd been watching the elevator doors.

The gun went skittering across the floor. Fixing my jacket, I walked over and picked it up. By the time I turned around again, Luca was on his feet with her father held up by the back of his neck and Tristan and our guards had his four soldiers against the wall with a gun in each hand pointed at their balls.

Much as I tried, I couldn't stop myself from running my eyes over her, just once, to make sure she was okay. Tears ran down her face and she took a step toward me before she remembered the things I'd just said and stopped, a look of utter betrayal and heartbreak on her pretty face.

Luca waited for me with my would-be murderer, one arm around his throat and the other holding his arm wrenched behind his back so high it was only a matter of time until his shoulder popped out of the socket.