by Ella Miles
My feet tremble as I run, my tears still flood my eyes, and my breath burns in my chest from the emptiness remaining.
I make it down the stairs with Langston on my heels. I’m either faster than him, or he realizes I need this. I need to see that Enzo is gone.
I run outside, a new chill in the air. The wind whips around the building, striking me hard in the face, and I stop at the deserted street.
Enzo. Is. Gone.
My eyes search the dark alleyway for a car, a human, any sign of Enzo. But I know I will find none.
He’s gone.
He’s gone.
He’s gone…
Thump…Thump…Thump, thump.
My heart pumps weaker.
Science might say no one can die from a broken heart. It’s not possible. But I know in this moment it is.
I feel weak. Dizzy. Lost.
My chest has slowed so much I might need a shock to restart it. The cool blood in my body barely registers, slinking through my body like glue instead of water.
This is it.
This is how I die—a broken heart.
Of all the ways I imagined I would die, this was never it. I never pictured this.
I imagined dying at the hands of a madman.
I imagined drowning in the ocean.
I imagined slipping away in agonizing pain.
But never this.
I close my eyes, trying to feel what is left of Enzo in the air, which isn’t much. Enzo lives full and unresolved. He can sweep in and explode into the leader he is, taking charge in a way no other man can, and then the next moment he can whoosh away, taking every drop of oxygen in the room with him.
At least the oxygen I need to survive.
My tears stop, my breath eases, my heart slows.
I’m barely here.
I wouldn’t call what I feel peaceful—in fact, it feels like something was ripped from me. I feel empty. I feel nothing. I feel numb. Maybe that’s as close to peaceful as I can ever hope to get.
Suddenly, I hear the door behind me as Langston steps out. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t acknowledge his presence. I’ll be gone soon. The wind will take away the pain. My heart will stop beating rather than deal with any more pain. I’m done, and there is nothing Langston can do to stop me.
“If you collapse and stop breathing, I’m going to have to perform CPR and Enzo will kill me for touching your lips. So don’t do that to me, stingray,” Langston says.
Shit.
My heart clenches as he says stingray, and a soft smile graces my lips.
Thank you, Zeke.
Thank you for reminding me I don’t get to die. Zeke sacrificed everything so I can live.
Enzo isn’t dead yet. Milo won’t kill him until he figures out how to use him to take over the Black empire. I have time.
I open my eyes and stare at Langston, and for the first time, I see how much pain he is in too. I can see the desperation to stop following Enzo’s orders and chase after Enzo right now. The desperation to leave me alone and unprotected so he can put things right.
We both exhale. And make a silent promise to each other to put each other first.
Langston and I may not have shared the connection Zeke and I had. I may not love him like I do Enzo. But we are all that we have left—just the two of us.
We have both lost everyone we love.
“We will fight. I’m not ready to give up on Enzo yet,” Langston says, staring into the starless night.
I nod. “Together then?” I hold out my hand to him.
“Together.” He takes my hand.
One of the tiny cracks heals as Langston takes my hand. Maybe we can fix everything together.
Some Time Later…
* * *
The sun pours into the room, searing into my eyes, forcing me awake.
I moan as I lay face down on top of the covers on the bed Enzo and I used to share. Drool slips from my mouth, and my head pounds from the tiny amount of light blinding my eyes.
Sleep…more sleep.
That’s all my brain can process.
I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know what time it is. I can still smell Enzo on the unwashed sheets, the only thing keeping me present instead of drifting back off to dreamland.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.
What the hell?
I blink a few times, trying to register what that horrid sound is and how to stop it with the least amount of effort.
My head is foggy. My eyes are blurred.
I moan again but don’t move. The sound has stopped. I can go back to sleep.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound. Pound.
I moan louder, trying to drown out the sound.
“Jesus, it smells like someone died in here,” a woman’s voice says, but I can’t register whose voice it is.
That’s because someone did die in here—me.
Somehow the room gets fucking brighter.
Kill me now.
Another moan as the woman’s heels click against the floor. Only this time, I don’t think the moan is coming from me.
“Seriously? Take a shower,” the woman says.
I feel hands on my body. The hands burn, but I don’t have the strength to fight them.
She rolls me over. And my eyes open.
Liesel.
I growl, she shouldn’t be here. She’s dressed in a tight skirt and buttoned-down shirt. The kind that makes her cleavage pop while still pretending she’s a lawyer instead of a whore.
I hate her. I was content without her coming in here and waking me up. Now she’ll force me to face the world without Enzo.
“You two look awful,” she says.
I kill her with my eyes, since I don’t have the strength to do anything else.
Liesel looks down at the floor where I think Langston is sleeping. That’s where he’s slept the last however nights it’s been since Enzo was stolen from me. I’ve lost track of time and reason.
“Let go of the bottle of whiskey. I think you’ve had enough,” Liesel says reaching down to take the bottle from Langston.
“No,” he snaps like a child who is getting his favorite toy taken away.
The scowl on her face as she rips the bottle from his hands is awful. I know she’s going to win. She’s much more determined to piss us off than we are to defend our right to sulk and drink our sorrows away.
“What are you two doing?” Liesel crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her perky breasts up higher. I can’t help but think her boobs are why she wins any cases in court. Men will do anything for boobs like that.
“What the fuck does it look like we are doing? We are drinking until the pain is gone,” Langston says, standing up to meet Liesel’s glare.
Maybe he isn’t as hungover as I am? Because I’m incapable of standing.
Liesel’s eyes flick back and forth between us in a disappointing scowl. “Why?”
“Because Enzo is gone, and we can’t get him back. We tried. Wherever Milo took him, we can’t get to him. There is nothing we can do. Except for fucking drinking and hoping we die before the pain consumes us,” I yell.
The room is silent—for a second.
And then Liesel blocks my sunlight with her curvy body. The look on her face says I’m as dead to her as she is to me.
“And what would Enzo do if the roles were reversed?” she asks, her voice short.
I can’t look at her.
“That’s right, he wouldn’t sulk. He would spend every second of every day trying to save you,” she says.
“We tried! I’m not strong enough to save him.” My tears threaten again. I thought my tears were done after the first week when I cried until my eyes burned and I couldn’t force any more tears out. But apparently, my tears were just hiding somewhere because they are back in full force.
“Maybe you aren’t strong enough,” Liesel says, not holding her words back.
Langs
ton growls.
“You don’t get to be pissed off at me; I’m the only one still sober enough to try and fight to get the man we all love back.” Liesel stomps to the bathroom, and I hear the sound of water running. Then she returns to me. She looks at Langston. “Get her ass off the bed and into the shower. Don’t worry, I made it cold so your precious skin can handle it.” She looks at me then back to Langston. “You shower after her, you reek.”
Liesel starts stomping to the door, not waiting for us to follow her orders. I don’t know how she’s functioning. She lost the man she loves, too. I guess because she’s lost Enzo so many times. She lost him the moment he told her he couldn’t love her, and she’s had years to deal with it. I told him I loved him, and he didn’t say it back, somehow that makes everything worse.
“I thought you were stronger than me. I thought you might be the one to break through to him. The one he could actually save because you would be strong enough to save him back,” Liesel says sadly from the door. “But I was wrong. You don’t deserve a man like Enzo.”
And then she’s gone.
I look over at Langston who looks as hurt as I feel.
Liesel is right. I don’t deserve Enzo. I’m not strong enough. I’m not worthy. But that doesn’t mean I get to drink my life away.
Langston doesn’t get to either.
None of us are strong enough on our own. But maybe the three of us together are strong enough to find a way out of this. As much as none of us are worthy of his love or protection—Enzo is worth it. He deserves to be saved.
4
Enzo
Milo Wallace can’t kill me. At least not until the games are over.
And I don’t know if that makes me feel relieved or horrified.
I can’t die.
I can’t be killed.
But that doesn’t mean death isn’t my eventual fate.
As soon as the Black empire is legally Wallace’s, I’ll end up with a bullet between my eyes.
But that is months, possibly years, from now.
Right now, I’d kill for a bullet to end my misery.
I’ve been separated from Kai Miller for three minutes and thirty-five seconds. I’ve counted every single one of them. And every single second hurts.
My heart feels like it’s been ripped from my body, jabbed with a thousand barbs and forced back into my chest. My lungs long to breathe in the same oxygen as Kai. My palms feel empty without her long black hair to grab, or her breasts to palm. And my cock has shriveled into nothing, knowing he will never again get to sink into her tight pussy. He is closed for shop—indefinitely.
“Tie him up,” Milo says to his men as we step outside.
Before I can react, six men jump on me, wrench my arms behind my back and tie them up. Then move to my ankles with a heavy chain between my ankles.
“Is this really necessary? I just fought to become your prisoner. I’m not going anywhere. We have an arrangement; I’m not leaving,” I say as the last clink of the handcuffs around my ankles locks in place. My shoulders feel tense as they are pulled back at an unusual angle, and my feet already feel heavy with the chains. But the discomfort gives me something to focus on other than the pain of losing Kai. So why I’m arguing with Milo to remove them is beyond me.
“Yes, they are necessary,” Milo hisses as he steps right in front of me. He’s a large man, a few years younger than me. His hair has grown long to his shoulders, and his blue eyes turn red when he’s angry as he is now.
“Don’t think you can take me without putting me at a disadvantage?” I challenge. I have enough rage inside me to kill him and his entire team while tied up with no weapon. The only thing preventing me is the fact that killing Milo would only start a war. One that Kai would have to finish and would put her in incredible danger.
I will never hurt her.
So I don’t pummel him in the head like I want.
Milo smirks, reading my thoughts. “They are necessary because I want to hurt you. You have no idea how badly I want to destroy you. You have no idea who I truly am. No idea the pain I’ve been through. You have no idea how hard it was for me to choose you instead of the whore.”
I jerk forward, needing to hurt him after calling Kai a whore. But the men pull me back before I can get to Milo.
“You want my empire? You can have it but leave Kai alone,” I say.
He grins. “I think I will take both.”
Milo steps into the back of one of the black Mercedes lining the street.
I wrench free and run to the car. I slam my head into his window, getting him to lower it enough to hear me. “That wasn’t the agreement. You get my empire, not Kai.”
Milo snickers. “And I would never go back on our agreement. No man would want to work with me if I did. But once I become Black, our agreement becomes void. I can do whatever I want then.”
Fuck.
All the more reason Kai needs to win.
And I need to find a way to kill this bastard.
Before I can respond, I’m dragged away from Milo’s car and into the trunk of another car.
The men laugh as the lock me away in darkness, my body bending in an uncomfortable and unnatural way. They think this is torture. They think this is pain. But I’ve been trained for years by a father who knew what real pain was and injected me with it on a daily basis.
But now thinking back, even that wasn’t real pain. Love is pain. Loving Kai is pain. Losing Zeke is pain. Being surrounded by an empire filled with men I consider family is pain. Being cramped into a trunk for hours is nothing.
Stingray is safe. She’s safe. Langston will ensure she’s safe. He will guide her. Help her either become the next Black or get her the hell away from the danger. Nothing else matters.
Kai. Is. Safe.
And now I have to let her go.
I have to let the pain go. I never told Kai I love her. She is the only woman I will ever, or could ever, love. It’s only been a few days since recognizing my love for her, but it is enough to know my life is worth living. Before I couldn’t imagine why I was ever born. Now I can’t imagine why fate would allow me to fall in love with such an incredible woman who deserves so much more.
Time passes slowly in the trunk of the car. My body bounces around, causing bruises to form and the ropes tying my arms back to tighten until the rope is cutting into my skin.
But I don’t care. All I think of is Kai. When the trunk opens and I get out, I’ll force myself to stop. To stop loving. To stop thinking. To stop caring. My new focus will be on figuring out how to kill Milo without anyone else getting hurt. Because that is all I can do. I surrendered myself. Soon, I will have to play the third round for the Black empire. And I have no choice but to play it like I want to win.
Milo will only let me live if I play to win. And I have no idea if Kai will try to win or not.
The trunk opens before I’m ready, but I made a promise to myself to let Kai go—so I do. I shut out everything but finding Milo’s weakness and exploiting it.
I’m pulled from the car without fighting it. I need to save my strength for what is coming. I know Milo won’t kill me, but that won’t stop him from torturing me. From keeping me from eating or drinking enough. I’m sure I’m about to face plenty of pain.
My feet hit the ground, and I realize where I am: a private airstrip.
“No yacht?” I ask.
Milo appears next to me. “No, we don’t have time for a yacht, even though that is both of our preferred means of travel. We need to get back quickly, I’ve had enough interruptions. And I don’t want that girlfriend of yours to decide to try to wrangle up a crew to attack us.”
“You don’t have to worry about Kai. She won’t attack,” I say.
Milo shakes his head as we walk toward his private plane. “Even I know that isn’t true.”
We board the plane, and I’m shoved toward the back of the narrow aisle-way. And then, I’m pushed to the ground, sandwiched between the last chair and a wa
ll behind it.
Milo’s crew board the plane while I stay lying on the floor like a dog. The plane takes off within minutes of us boarding, and I know it is going to be one long and uncomfortable flight for me.
At least I’m close enough to Milo and his men that I will be able to listen to every conversation. I hear the familiar sound of whiskey being poured. The conversations will be flowing, and I will be able to hear every word. It’s exactly what I need to be able to learn more about Milo’s organization.
It’s a good plan, except Milo and all of his men speak Italian the entire fucking flight. A language where I only know the words grazie and ciao.
So at the first opportunity, I break my promise to myself and let my thoughts drift back to Kai.
Where is she?
Did Langston convince her to stay at my beach house?
Did she buy a new condo for herself?
Has she decided she wants to take the Black empire for herself?
Or has she found a new destiny, one not dripping with pain?
That’s where my thoughts start, but not where they end. Instead, my mind goes to much dirtier thoughts.
The shape of her mouth when she’s screaming my name.
The curve of her hips as they buck into mine.
The swell of her clit as I press between her lips.
The taste of her tongue as I take her breath away.
The grip of her pussy as she tightens around me.
The scent of her hair sprayed with ocean salt.
The strength in her piercing blue-green eyes as she says I love you.
Maybe I’m delusional. Maybe my heart is fucked. But with each second that passes, I feel my mistake grow.
I should have told her the truth. I should have told her my feelings. I should have said the three words that would have brightened her entire world before engulfing it in darkness.
I. Love. You.
Nope, I’m definitely delusional from going without food or water and being stuck in darkness for so long. That’s all.
Except it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. My mind is still clear, my belly barely twinging. I’m not delusional. I’m not losing my mind. I’m just hung up on the love of my life. And as much as I want to forget about her and leave her behind, protect her from afar, and with time know she will move on with another man, I know that isn’t true. It’s not how I feel. If Kai was to move on with another guy, I would come for him. Even if I was dead, I would come back and haunt his ass. Because the love we share is a once in a lifetime kind of love. It’s not something you can bury or ever move on from. It’s the kind where one of us will sacrifice ourself to save the other. The kind of link between us that no distance, person, or time can sever. The kind that is all consuming. The kind that will destroy continents and start wars. The kind that you never get over. Never escape. And never forget.
