Page 41 of Savage Enemy

I had to laugh.

Taking my own life was a sin, but suffering through whatever horrors Klimov had in store? Perfectly fine.

Hilarious.

Surely, faking my death had already earned me a spot in hell. If not, disobeying Saul and running away might have warranted the same eternal damnation. Or maybe it would be the premarital sex with Stefano and creating Enzo. Or all the times I’d reveled in Stefano’s touch.

Even if that wasn’t enough, I’d killed a man in cold blood, and I didn’t feel a shred of regret.

Fuckface Luka got what he deserved.

Lying back on the bed and closing my eyes, I pictured Enzo and prayed to my grandmothers, and once again, I had to ask for their protection over my son.

I prayed to the Virgin, asking for her guidance.

I prayed for my son to be different, for him to find a way out. And if escaping this life wasn’t possible, that he found a way to be better than the men who came before him.

I had to believe I’d done my job as a mother well enough for Enzo to survive his father and strive for something greater.

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

It didn’t matter what I believed.

Stefano would shape him.

The bedroom door slammed open so hard, the brass knob hit the wall and left a small dent in the plaster.

I scrambled onto my feet, chest heaving, and glared at Aris.

He strolled into my room like it wasn’t an invasion.

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble.”

I bit my tongue as he pulled a knife from his pocket, opened it, and stabbed the blade into the apple in his other hand.

Juice beaded down the ripe flesh, and my stomach growled. I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten.

Aris had made his point, but cutting up an apple gave him a legitimate reason to keep that open blade in his grip. He wanted me to know he had it, that he could turn it on me at any second.

He lived for these pointless power plays.

If I didn’t do the right thing or say the right thing, his knife would be buried in my flesh as easily as it pierced that apple.

Aris wouldn’t kill me. He wouldn’t even scar me. He knew better. That didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt me.

I offered a polite smile, hoping it sufficiently hid my fear.

“How can I help you, Aris?”

His smug grin transformed instantly into a furious snarl.

“You can’t do shit for me now, you stupid cunt. They had a plan. We were gonna be the most powerful family in the country, but you just had to fuck it all up. I should kill you.”

Straightening my spine, I stepped forward, holding his gaze with hope it would prove he no longer intimidated me. I was a grown woman, not the little girl who’d run away.

Either Aris would recognize that, or he wouldn’t. Either way, I didn’t have to stand there and listen to him belittle me.

How many times would we have this same damn kill-me-or-don’t-kill me conversation?