Page 51 of Power
And he knew it. He saw it in my face, in the way my hands shook, in the way I suddenly felt like I was the one who needed to beg for forgiveness.
Enzo wanted me to understand what was coming. That he knew. That I wasn’t safe. That he wasn’t going to protect me.
And Dario—
Enzo must have known exactly how he’d react. How he’d never let something like that slide. That was the point. He was pushing Dario into making this war official, forcing him to retaliate. And once he did, Enzo would have his excuse to go after him with everything he had.
I was never the goal. I was bait. And now I’m expendable.
I shove the last of my things into the small duffel bag, not that I have much that was originally mine. Clothes I first wore here, toiletries, and the few books that had been left in my room. The room is silent except for the sound of fabric rustling and the steady, robotic breathing of the guard stationed at the door. He hasn’t said a word since he was assigned to watch me. Just stares, unblinking, hand never far from his gun.
I don’t bother looking at him. I don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he makes my skin crawl.
They gave me my phone back. A small mercy, or maybe another test.
Once I stepped into the hallway after leaving Dario’s office, I could swear I caught Dannika smirking as she passed. She stuck her tongue out and muttered something under her breath before disappearing around the corner.
I’m still processing her reaction and everything that has happened before my phone buzzes in my hand.
A message.
My stomach drops as I open it.
Enzo: You really think you can spread your legs for my enemy and walk away? After everything I’ve done for you? I should have let you die. But I’ll make sure you do soon enough. Right after I put a bullet between his eyes.
I reread it three times. It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.
Enzo wants me dead. I should have known it the second he let me fend for myself. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t cowardice. He wanted to make a statement. He wanted me to understand that I don’t belong to him anymore—not because I left, but because I’ve outlived my usefulness.
Enzo knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s been playing the long game, and I was too stupid to see it.
I zip up the bag and grip my phone so tightly it might crack. I don’t remember turning around. Don’t remember my feet carrying me down the hall, past the guard, past the rooms I’ve been confined to. I just know there’s only one person who can help me now.
I have to find Dario.
Of course, he doesn’t want to see me.
Rafa blocks the office door with his entire body. "He’s busy."
"I don’t care."
His brow lifts, unimpressed. "Yeah? And I don’t care that you don’t care."
"Rafa—"
"He doesn’t want to see you."
I inhale sharply and swallow down the sting. "He’ll want to see this."
I shove my phone toward him, screen still glowing with Enzo’s message. His expression doesn’t change, but I see the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides. He jerks his head toward the office door. "Knock."
I don’t hesitate.
The second I step inside, I know things are different. Dario doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even acknowledge me. He’s behind his desk and flips through a file like I’m an annoying disruption he can’t wait to be rid of.
That slow and searing way he used to look at me with the entirety of his focus pressing into me like he could see straight through my skin—it’s gone. And somehow, that cuts deeper than anything else.
“What do you want?”
