Vicious Enzo: A College Bully Romance (Verona Academy Book 2)

by Melinda Terranova

“What am I going to do with you?” I grin at her before falling down next to her and pulling her into me.

  I feel her snuggle into me, the curve of her ass and arch of her back fitting perfectly into me like we were sculpted from the same stone and finally put back together after many years apart.

  “What are you thinking?” Her voice is quiet, as though she is afraid of what I might say.

  “I’m thinking I’m taking you to Italy next week,” I whisper into her hair.

  She freezes, her shoulders going rigid. “What? Why?”

  “I need to get away from here for a bit and thought you might like to see where my family is from.”

  “Next week? What about classes?” She worries.

  “I own this college and every fucking professor that is employed here. They will not be a problem.”

  She turns in my arms and stares at me in the dim light. I feel her eyes searching me for answers. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “You don’t ever have to worry about me.” I brush her hair behind her ear.

  “Enzo, stop being such a guy. You haven’t mentioned your father once. You can grieve him, you know. I’m here for you.” Her words hold me captive.

  I almost allow the anger and pain I still harbor for him to seep out, only I school myself and know better than to allow him to consume my thoughts again.

  I release the breath I’m holding before answering her. “I’ve grieved, believe me. And I’m not pretending like it doesn’t still hurt, it’s just easier to get on with life.”

  “So, you’re not escaping to Italy to get away from everything that is going on?”

  “Not entirely. But there’s nothing wrong with taking a break, is there?” I pull my signature grin at her, the grin I know she won’t be able to resist.

  “I suppose not. I’ll have to go back home and get my passport.” She pouts.

  “I’ll drive you before we depart. Now, get some sleep.” I turn her and pull her into me, draping my arm over her and holding her against me. It’s safe to say I’m totally fucking pussy whipped and I don’t even give a shit.

  ***

  The fucking week drags its ass slower than a dead body bleeding out. I have no new leads on my father’s murder. Luca has been MIA, fucking his New York ice princess and Dante has found himself a new plaything in the likes of Summer’s friend, Emma. The detailed plans of operation corrupt fucker are all in place, right down to the very bullet that will be used. His own bullet from his own gun. The idiot really needs to double-check his inventory. I have no guilt in orchestrating the slow and painful end of Summer’s dad.

  “I’ll be two minutes.” Summer holds up one finger before climbing out of the Enzo.

  I parked right up in front of the large window of her house, just so her daddy dearest could see exactly who his sweet little girl is fucking. After about five minutes, I rev the engine, because I’m a perpetual dick, and enjoy the sound of its purr as it echoes through the cab. The front door opens, Summer turns and hugs her mom, then ambles toward the car.

  “Let’s go,” she says as she climbs in and shuts the door.

  I eye her for a moment, the redness in her cheeks and the glassy rims of her eyes make me burn in anger. I grab her chin and turn her face to look at me. “Have you been crying?”

  “Just leave it.” She tries to jerk her face out of my fingers.

  “Summer, what happened?” My voice lowers and I glance at the house. I’ll break every last bone in that excuse of a man.

  “My dad’s a dick. Can we get out of here?” She pleads with her sorrow-filled eyes.

  I nod, put the car in gear and tear up their perfectly manicured lawn as I skid out of their front yard. I don’t bother glancing in the rearview to watch his face turn red as he storms out of his house. I’ll have video footage of him pleading and begging for his life soon enough. Another to add to my collection.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Enzo

  We’ve stopped at a gas station halfway to the airport. My skin itches at thoughts of not being a part of the fun Dante, and Luca, are going to have while I’m away and at the same time, I’m anxious to get Summer away from it all. I stand at the pump and scan the area beyond the parking lot, the darkening sky coating the area in a dusky purple. I finish pumping the gas and lean in through the window to grab my wallet.

  “Want anything?” I ask

  “Maybe something sweet. Surprise me.” She grins up at me.

  I wink at her before heading in to pay. As I make my way to the drinks fridge in the back of the shop, I sense them standing at the end of the aisle. I continue with my drink selection, drawing out the process, no doubt annoying the fuck out of them. I glance in the security mirror, their distorted figures hovering not far behind me.

  I scratch my back and in the same movement, I unclasp my gun, ready to use if need be. I hope to all hell, Summer stays in the car and doesn’t get a whiff of what is about to go down in here.

  I turn on the spot and the distance between us pulses with tense silence. “Hello, fuckers.” I grin at them, surprised to see Richards glaring back at me.

  “Where are you taking her?” He steps forward and at the same time, I retrieve my gun, holding it firmly in my right hand.

  “None of your fucking business, daddy-o.” I raise my eyebrows and watch as his accomplice moves himself to the left, half-hidden by the shelves.

  “It is my fucking business when my daughter is with my enemy,” he snarls, spit flying out of his mouth.

  “I’m not your enemy, dipshit. I’m your downfall.” My finger twitches over the trigger.

  The accomplice takes another step, rounding the shelves, thinking he’s a clever little cookie. I’ll wait for him to inch closer before I’ll put a bullet through his skull. I keep my eyes on the corrupt cunt in front of me and wait for him to make his move.

  “You bastards think you own everything. You don’t own my fucking family, you will not take my daughter out of the country,” he fumes.

  I laugh at him, at his stupidity, thinking he can tell Summer what to do. “You don’t know your daughter very well.”

  “Fuck you, little mafia boy. I will show her what kind of sick fuck you are, and she will come crying back home, where she belongs.” He takes another step forward.

  I keep my eyes trained on him, leveling his anger while keeping tabs on his stupid accomplice. “She knows how fucked up I am, and yet she chooses me.” I shrug.

  In my periphery, I see the dick slink forward, thinking he’ll get near me. I wait until he’s within full range, I point my gun at him and pop him between the eyes. Fuck, if only Luca, and Dante were here to see my fucking epic shot. I watch him fall to the floor with a thud, his blood slowly seeping out on to the yellowing tiles.

  Richards stands a few feet away, anger at boiling point, his hands shake as he points his gun at me.

  “Pull the fucking trigger. I dare you.” I wink at him, knowing he’s too gutless to do his own dirty work.

  “You’re as good as dead, boy,” he warns as he takes calculated steps toward me.

  The shop attendant scrambles up to us and stops in his tracks once his eyes land on the dead guy on the floor. “I’ll call the cops,” he half whines.

  “You do that, and I’ll put a fucking bullet in your head as well. Go back to the register and ignore what’s going on here,” I bark at him, making him jump, but he does as he’s told.

  I keep my eyes on Richards, he’s inched closer again, his gun still pointed at me. “What are you going to do now?” I tease.

  He fucking charges at me, like a raging lunatic, his eyes manic, and slams me into the fridge. The glass shatters from the force and I feel sharp pinpricks as shards of glass cut through my t-shirt and embed in my skin.

  I growl in rage, the adrenaline hitting me all at once and I swing my gun into the side of his face and push him off me. I watch him lose his balance and fal
l to the floor in a heap, dragging the chip stand down with him. He groans and tries to turn on to his side but place my boot over his wrist, making him drop his gun.

  “Your move.” I kick the gun away from him and glare down at him, wondering what the fuck went wrong in his life to make him turn out like this.

  “You can keep the dirty little whore. She’s just like her mother, only ever wanting money for this and money for that.” He tries to swipe me away from him.

  “What did you say?” I lean down until I’m inches from his face. He tries to punch me, but I catch his fist in my hand and twist his arm until he squirms in pain. “What the fuck did you say?” I grit my teeth.

  “You can keep the little whore,” he shouts at me.

  I let go of his arm and punch him in the nose. A loud crack vibrates through the air and I’m not sure if it was his nose or my knuckles, the sharp sting jolts up my arm and I bite down on my teeth to stop myself from showing my pain. I grab him by the throat and squeeze until his face turns a lovely shade of beetroot. “Don’t fucking call her that, ever again. Do you hear me?” My voice drips fury, I’m ready to end this fucker myself.

  “Truth hurt, boy?” He grins up at me, his blood pouring out of his nose and coating his teeth.

  I lift his head off the tiles and smash it back down, enjoying the wheeze that escapes his bloodied lips. I lift him half off the tiles again.

  “Enzo,” Summer’s small voice brushes past my ears, I stiffen and narrow my eyes at her father, his nose is now twice the size and bleeding profusely.

  Fuck.

  I drop him to the floor, the thud of his head against the tiles makes him groan. I lean into him, so I am all he can see. “You’re not worth it,” I growl at him, making him flinch. I stand up carefully and hold my hands up, my gun still firmly gripped in my hand.

  Her eyes dart to my gun and she looks down at the dead body and then to her father, who is coughing up blood. “Can we go, please?” She looks back at me, no sign of fear in her eyes.

  Richards grabs my ankle. “Fuck you, I will destroy you.”

  I squat down close enough, so only he can hear. “If you come after me, or my family, I will kill her. You know what we are capable of, I’m sure you’ve done your homework. If you love her, even the most minute amount, you will quit harassing my family and our associates. You will go home to your wife and your little town, and never, I repeat, never ever speak of this again. And I might let your daughter live.” I pat him on the shoulder before standing back up, stepping over him and the dead body.

  I don’t mean the words I utter, but I know family, and I know how much a father cares for their child, even when they don’t show it. Or show it in the most fucked up way. I know he will quit his shit now, and ensure Summer is safe. I grip her around the waist and drag her out of the store, far away from that piece of shit, and into the next chapter of her life.

  ***

  I drag Summer into the bathroom on the plane once we’ve reached altitude. She gazes up at me, not an ounce of sorrow or misery behind her icy blue eyes.

  “Turn around,” she orders, and her soft hands grip my arms and move me, so I am facing the mirror. The space is small, even here in first-class, and her body presses against mine.

  I feel her tugging at my jacket, and I shrug it off my shoulder and hear her gasp. “It’s only a little blood.”

  “Holy fuck, it just keeps bleeding.” She grabs handfuls of paper towels, pulls my t-shirt up, and presses the paper towel against my back.

  “You got all the glass out at the airport.” I turn back around until I am facing her and give her a little nudge with my hips.

  “Nope, don’t even think about it.” She looks up at me in horror.

  “I already have,” I lean into her, snaking my arms around her waist and tug her into me.

  “Enzo, stop,” she breathes.

  “If I don’t?” I kiss up her neck and feel her melt into me.

  “I’ll scream.” She pushes me to try to move me.

  “Oh, I plan on it,” I chuckle against her ear.

  “Stop. I have to clean you up.” She takes my face in her palms and gives me a stern look.

  “Fine,” I groan and turn around to let her clean the blood off my back. After a few moments of silence, I turn my head to see her studying my back. “Hey.”

  Her eyes dart up to meet mine and I see her tears welling. I turn to her and embrace her, holding her close to me. She doesn’t cry, her unshed tears and unspoken words say more than she could ever convey.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Summer

  We have been in a bubble of bliss for the last couple of days, filled with long drives to see ancient ruins and other quaint towns, to eating fresh pasta and drinking strong coffee. Staying up late, dining at local restaurants down in the village, and sleeping in until our breakfast is delivered. The village Enzo’s family originates from is quintessential Italian, exactly as one would imagine.

  The cobblestone roads all lead to the piazza, where farmers have set up their stalls of fresh fruit and vegetables, pastries, and cured meats. The hive of locals and tourists is mesmerizing, their laid back and joyous nature making me smile. I can see how Enzo’s mom wants to live here, the place is plucked straight out of a fairy tale. Our table at the café has perfect views of the fountain in the center and the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

  “Ciao, Enzo,” a man bellows as he approaches us. Enzo stands and grips the middle-aged man in a hug.

  “Giovanni, this is my girlfriend, Summer,” Enzo introduces me.

  Girlfriend? That’s the first time we have used labels for this thing we have going on. My stomach does somersaults as I stare up at him, feelings of confusion and pure bliss warm my insides. I try not to let him see how that one little word has affected me, but I can’t help the grin that spreads over my smug face. And he knows it. He knows damn well what his little word does to me.

  “Nice to meet you, Summer.” Giovani leans down and kisses me on each cheek.

  “Hello, nice to meet you too.” I smile up at him as the waiter delivers our pastries and coffee.

  “Please, come for dinner tonight. We have urgent matters to discuss.” Giovani grabs Enzo by the shoulder. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Si, si. Okay, we’ll come past around six tonight.” Enzo taps Giovani’s hand, bids him farewell, and sits back down.

  “I didn’t know you spoke Italian.” I bite into the buttery pastry, wondering what sort of urgent matters need discussing, and quickly ignore the thoughts of murder and bloodshed that cloud my mind.

  “I don’t. I only know a few words, mostly swear words,” he chuckles.

  “Why does that not surprise me.”

  He looks at me and steals my pastry from my hand and shoves the whole thing in his mouth, a triumphant grin aimed at me. I love this version of him, carefree and relaxed, so unlike his usual tortured self. I hope this version comes home with us when we leave.

  “I guess it’s time for you to meet my mom.” He raises his eyebrows over his cup of coffee.

  A knot forms in my gut and I stare at him, swallowing the mouthful of pastry I was chewing.

  “I mean, she has been harassing me to take you over to meet her.” He smiles at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

  “Okay,” The knot in my stomach intensifies.

  He stands and places a few notes under the coffee cup and holds his hand out for me.

  “What, now?”

  “Yes.”

  I stand and look around the piazza, waiting for him to tell me the jokes on me, but he doesn’t. He grabs my hand in his and leads me to one of the small laneways that divert off the center square.

  “She lives in a villa not far from here, but she’s at work today, in the studio,” he explains, as we make our way past all the boutique stores.

  “Studio?” I look up at him, realizing I know nothing about his mom.

  “She makes things out of pottery.
” He pulls me through a small side alley, toward a wrought iron gate.

  I feel my nerves ebb their way into my chest, my heart thudding steadily as we enter the small studio. The burst of color is spectacular, all the handmade pieces sit on floating timber shelves. There are bowls, mugs, and whole dinner sets displayed throughout the store.

  “Enzo, my beautiful boy, come give your mom a big hug.” A stunning, dark-haired woman strolls out from the back of the studio.

  I watch as she takes her son’s face in her paint-covered hands and gazes into his dark eyes, cataloging him into her memory for when he’s not here anymore.

  “Mom, this is Summer. Summer, this is Violetta.” Enzo pulls his face out of her hands and turns to me.

  “Hello, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” I smile at her.

  She rushes over to me and pulls me into her embrace, her floral perfume swirling under my nose, she squeezes me gently before untangling her arms. “I’m so, so happy to finally meet the girl who has stolen my son’s heart. Honestly, I never thought I’d see the day.” She winks at me, her infectious smile radiating through me.

  “Mom, stop already.” Enzo rolls his eyes and runs his hand through his hair.

  “Oh, you stop it. I’m your mother, I’m allowed to be happy for you.” She waves her hand in his direction, disregarding him and turning back to me. “So, sweetheart, how long are you two staying here?”

  My eyes dart to Enzo. I have no idea what his plans are for us, I’m just along for the ride.

  “Two more days,” Enzo answers for me.

  “Two more days, that doesn’t give me much time to spoil you both.” Her eyes return to me and she squeezes my arm.

  “It was a short trip.” Enzo shrugs, picking up a mug and inspecting it.

  “You’ll have to come over tonight for dinner.” She beams at me.

  “I think Enzo made plans to go to someone’s place tonight.” I glance over at him.

  “I’ll cancel. I didn’t want to sit through an evening of business anyway.” He places the mug back on the shelf.

  “Has Giovanni already found you? I told him to leave you be until you returned home,” Violetta huffs.