That’s all gone, and all I can do is cry and remember.
I thought the tears would dry up after a few days. But a week passes, and every night it’s the same: the memory of him returns, and I sob until the darkness takes me.
And each night I hope the darkness will keep me from having to face the next day.
“Your brother’s here to see you.” Zita stands in the doorway of the back room while I stir a big pot of sauce. It’s a new recipe but Karmen says it’s not bad, and even Ines admitted it smells good, so I’m hopeful it’ll work out.
I put down my spoon and wipe my hands. “Santo?”
She shakes her head. “Enzo. He’s out back. Better go.” She turns and disappears.
Enzo? What the hell is he doing here? I haven’t heard a peep from my family since they dropped me off and drove away eight days ago. I assume they’re all aware that I’m back in the clutches of The Velvet Rope, but I didn’t think Enzo would come visit. He seemed odd that day, and I haven’t quite figured out what was going on, and I’m not sure I care.
But since he’s here, I might as well go see what he wants.
“Hey, Karmen, make sure this doesn’t get too hot and boil, okay?” I take off my apron and toss it aside. “You’re on food duty, girl.”
“Whatever you say.” Karmen waves as she takes over and I head through the bedroom and out the back door.
Enzo’s lingering by the side staircase near the vending machines. He leans back against the wall and nods as I approach. He’s wearing his usual suit, well-fitting and nicely tailored, but stiff and stuffy, so much like him. It’s a contrast to my old sweats and baggy crewneck navy blue sweatshirt with cut sleeves.
He looks like a mafia prince. I look like the girl that cleans his bathroom. Nobody would guess we’re siblings.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, not bothering to waste time.
He cracks a smile. “What, a brother can’t visit his sister?”
I don’t smile back. “Not a brother like you.”
“That’s fair. I deserve that. Papa told me not to come, which is why I haven’t been back sooner.”
“Does he know you’re here now?”
“No, he doesn’t.”
I laugh a little. “Look at you, rebelling against Papa. Is this new?”
He doesn’t laugh with me. His shoulders seem heavy and his eyes are hooded and ringed with red like he hasn’t been sleeping. He looks like hell, but Enzo never looks like hell. Perfect Enzo is always ready to go and in good shape. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before.
“I’m trying to convince Papa to bring you home.” He stares at me and doesn’t smile. At first I think he’s joking, but there’s no twinkle in his eyes.
I take a step back in surprise. Hearing those words is like a punch to the gut. When I was first sent to The Velvet Rope, all I wanted to do was go back home. And now Enzo’s saying he wants to make that happen.
Would I even want to go back to that house? If it meant being around Papa all the time, no, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t face him, not after what he did to me. I’d rather stay here and work with the girls than live in that place. I don’t care if I’m mopping up cum and blood, at least I have a purpose and nobody treats me like trash—except for Ora, but she barely counts, and she only does it because she feels guilty.
“Why would you do that?” I ask, my hands shaking slightly. I hide them behind my back.
He seems surprised. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about it. But mostly I’m just confused. You wanted to kill me, Enzo. Remember that?”
He grimaces like I punched him in the stomach. “I remember,” he says quietly, not meeting my eye. “I’m sorry, Siena. I’m sorry for the way I reacted back then and I’m sorry for all this now.”
I laugh. I can’t help myself. Enzo, the incredible Enzo, Papa’s shadow, the golden son, he’s apologizing to me for something. This is the first time in my life Enzo’s ever looked contrite about anything, much less said he was sorry. It’s incredible, and horrible, and I hate and love him all at once, my big, stupid brother.
“I don’t understand where this is coming from.”
“Let’s just say that all this happening has made me realize some things about Papa. You know he’s not a good man.”
My laughter dies down. “Yeah, Enzo. I know that.”
“And you remember how he used to be.” He meets my gaze then. “You remember what he did when we were growing up.”
I release a long breath. “We never talk about that.”