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

by Melinda Terranova

  “Work waits for no one. You should know that better than anybody.” Enzo glares at her.

  She ignores his tone and settles her eyes on me. “Come over around six, and don’t let this boy of mine bulldoze you into anything. I know how hard-headed he can be.” She winks at me. “I have to get back to my paints before they dry. It’s so lovely to meet you, sweetheart. I hope I see more of you in the future.” She glances at Enzo.

  “See you tonight.” I smile and step toward Enzo.

  “Six o’clock, Enzo,” she repeats as we make our way out the door.

  “I like your mom,” I say as I grab Enzo’s hand.

  “And she likes you.” He smiles down at me.

  “What did she mean by she never thought she'd see the day someone would steal your heart?” I probe him.

  He shakes his head. “I’m not exactly the lovey-dovey type if you haven’t noticed.”

  “Have I stolen your heart?” I nudge him with my arm.

  “My fucking heart and my fucking head too,” he growls and grabs me around the waist, pulling me into him. His hungry lips crash against mine and a thrill of lust pulses through me and settle in my heart. “You’ll be the end of me, freshman.”

  “I hope not.” I run my fingers through his dark hair.

  “Just wait and fucking see. I can’t think straight around you.” He kisses my forehead and grabs my hand pulling me after him down the cobblestone road.

  We walk in silence for a while, admiring the shop windows. Enzo’s phone does not stop buzzing and it is starting to irritate me. “Are you going to answer that?”

  “Nope.”

  “Really? What if it’s important?” I tug on his arm.

  “It’s always fucking important if you ask my family.” He turns to me. “Are you okay with all of this?” His molten dark eyes pin me to the spot.

  “All of what?” I swallow. Here comes the conversation we’ve both been avoiding. I know what his family does. I know what his position is, but we’ve never once said anything to each other about it, not entirely in context.

  “With me and my family. With the bloodshed and corruption. With all the fucked-up shit I’m about to introduce you to.” His brows furrow, forming a worry line.

  I take a deep breath and consider his words and their meaning. “I am.” I gaze up at him, hoping he believes me.

  “Are you sure? I mean, the little bits that you’ve seen are only the icing on the cake. I’ve yet to introduce you to all the shit ingredients and don’t even get me started on the methods.” He tilts his head as he steps into me.

  “Are you comparing murder and torturing methods to baking a cake?” I grin at him, his face is so cold, and I probably should be taking this more seriously. But if truth be told, I don’t care what he does, and if that makes me just as fucked up as him, I’ll happily wear it.

  “I guess I am.” His mouth quirks up at one corner, revealing his playful side. “Once you’re in, there is no way out, freshman.” He snakes his hands around my waist. “You’re royally fucked if you say yes.”

  “Yes, to being royally fucked. I don’t care about your business, I care about you.” I lean up and kiss him to drive my point.

  “Your funeral,” he chuckles into my mouth and his phone vibrates again. He pulls back from me and grabs his phone out of his pocket, answering it.

  “What?” His icy tone makes me glance up at him.

  He nods a few times before hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

  “What is it?” I place my hands on his muscled stomach and watch his features turn from anger to defeat.

  “I have to meet someone, I’ll take you back to the apartment.” His voice is clipped.

  “No, it’s okay, I’ll just wander around the piazza and grab some coffee.”

  “Okay,” he agrees, grabbing my hand and pulling me after him toward the café we were at earlier.

  “Stay here and don’t move. I’ll come back for you.” He leans down and kisses me hard.

  “Bye.” I wave him off.

  I order coffee and chocolate-filled cornetti and enjoy the view. A whole hour passes and I’m overly full on all the pastry, and a little annoyed he has been gone for so long without even a text. I realize I don’t have the key for our apartment and decide to venture back to his mom’s studio, hoping I can remember the way.

  After a few wrong turns, I manage to find the laneway and hesitate before entering the front door. I hear muffled voices from the back, their echoes bouncing off the shop walls. I make my way to the display of ceramics, painted in bright yellow lemons and green leaves, all crafted by hand. I hear a loud crash, making me flinch, and I pause to listen. Nothing.

  “Violetta,” I call out as I make my way to the back of the room and push through the plastic curtain to the back studio. The smell of clay and paint fills the space, and everything seems in order.

  I spot a door in the far-left corner and hope and pray that Violetta isn’t hurt. I rush through the door to come to a blinding halt as three men, dressed in expensive suits, loom over Violetta, who is tied to a chair. One man turns to glare at me, and I recognize him from earlier. Giovanni.

  My heart slams against my chest, realizing what I have walked in on. My eyes slice to Violetta, her mouth gagged, her eyes pleading with me to run for my life. I take a careful step back and my shoe lands on the edge of something. I don’t move, I keep my eyes on the three men. One of them is young, not much older than me, and when his eyes land on me, they’re full of venom. His lips curl over his teeth in a sneer as his eyes rake over me, making me shudder in disgust. He quickly slinks his eyes back to his victim when Giovanni flings his arm at me.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Principessa,” Giovanni grunts and returns his hateful gaze to Violetta. The other two don’t even glance my way again, their focus solely on Enzo’s mom.

  I swallow the sickening feeling in my throat and my eyes slice to the floor, under my foot sits a handgun. A fucking handgun, just sitting there in the middle of the floor. I don’t know what overcomes me, maybe insanity, maybe my conscience of not leaving Violetta to these ruthless wolves. I slink down slowly and grab the gun in my fingers, hoping that it is loaded, careful not to alert the three men, who are busy discussing something in Italian to even care that I’m still here.

  I raise the gun at them, gripping it steady in both my hands, waiting for them to turn around and look at me. My finger softly hovering over the trigger, ready to press when needed, while thanking my lucky stars I was taken to the gun range as a teenager. I lock eyes with Violetta, her glare telling me to get the fuck out of here. I shake my head at her and watch as Giovanni follows Violetta’s line of vision, his eyes landing on me. He smirks before elbowing the other old, fat mobster and they both laugh at me. They fucking laugh at me.

  “What are you going to do with that, Principessa?” The other man chuckles, his big belly moving in time with his shoulders.

  My insides quiver with violent anger and I squeeze the gun a little tighter, knowing all too well, if I need to pull the trigger, the gun will no doubt jerk my arms and vibrate through me.

  “Let her go.” My voice comes out stronger than I expected.

  “Put the gun down before you get hurt.” The young guy leers at me.

  My mind is a muddled mess, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making me a lot braver than I should be. “Untie her and I’ll put the gun down.” My eyes dart to Violetta, her cheeks are stained with tears.

  “Do you hear this?” The fat mobster taps Giovanni on the arm. “Fuck off, little girl. If you know what is good for you, you will turn around and pretend like you never stumbled upon us.”

  Giovanni glares at me, a look of apprehension crosses his features for a split second, obviously calculating whether this is worth the trouble, knowing Enzo may show up any minute. He nods his head in my direction and the fat mobster stalks toward me, anger radiating off him.

  I take a step back, my pulse thrumm
ing manically in my chest as he closes the distance. He stops a few strides away from me and holds out his hand. “Give me the fucking gun.” His face screws up in anger.

  I lift my hands, so the gun is pointed at his head. “Let her go.” I grit through my teeth, my eyes never leaving the man in front of me. I squeeze the gun in my sweaty fingers and swallow my anxiety.

  “Last chance of you leaving here in one piece, Principessa.” The fat mobster seethes, his words coated in malice. His gaze gives me goosebumps and I can feel my body quiver.

  He lunges forward and I narrow my gaze at him, beckoning him to come at me. Without a second thought, I squeeze the trigger, the instant vibration of the gun shaking my upper body, making my hands tingle. The asshole jolts mid-stride and his eyes bulge out of his head as a high-pitched buzzing ensnares my senses. I follow his movements as he flops to the floor in a heap. Everything falls silent and I grip the gun in my trembling hands, while my surroundings seem to move in slow motion.

  There’s a scuffle near where Violetta sits restrained, and a piercing crack echoes in my ears, as though lightning struck the building. In hazy movements, I watch as Giovanni tumbles to the floor, blood spraying from his head, covering the pottery near him.

  “Enzo.” I’m unsure if I’m imagining him or if the fat mobster has killed me and I’m now locked in a silent movie.

  He ignores me, as I hold my gun pointed in mid-air at nothing in particular and grabs the young guy by the throat to lift him off the floor and smash him into the metal shelves. Pottery goes flying in all directions, splintering into hundreds of pieces on the floor, while Violetta squirms in her chair being peppered by flying pieces of her work.

  “Enzo,” my voice quivers louder in my ears.

  “I told you I’d fucking find you, cunt,” Enzo growls and pummels the young mobsters face repeatedly, the thwacking sound filling the studio room in a musical beat.

  “Enzo,” my voice has come back loud and clear, but he doesn’t hear me. I lower the gun, unable to unclasp it from my grip, my fingers frozen around the handle.

  I watch as Enzo slices the young mobster’s throat and lets him fall to the floor, blood seeping out and spreading over the tiles. Enzo watches in fascination, before his eyes connect with mine, and rushes over to me.

  “Hey,” his soothing voice fills me and makes my tense muscles relax. His warm hands clasp around my mine and he pries the gun from me, switching the safety on and placing it on the shelf beside me. “Summer.” His arms circle me, and I gaze into his beautiful dark eyes.

  “I’m okay.” I smile up at him, adrenaline still pulsating through me. “Help your mom.” I nod.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He cups my cheek in his hand, smearing blood onto my skin.

  “Yes.” I lean up and brush my lips over his, pressing myself into him.

  He groans into my mouth. “Fuck me, freshman.” He deepens the kiss and squeezes my waist, the pain welcoming.

  He pulls away from me, his breathing heavy, and squeezes his eyes closed for a moment to gather his thoughts, before turning and striding to untie his mom.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Enzo

  I slam her against the wardrobe, devouring her mouth and ripping her clothes in the process. We’re both still covered in dry blood and, Summer, I’m fairly sure has splatters of brains all over her. But fuck does it turn me on thinking about her with the gun gripped firmly in her hands and blowing that fuckers brains to smithereens. My dick throbs in my jeans, it has been painfully hard since she blew that fuckers head off. I’m a sick fuck.

  She moans into my mouth as she grinds against my pelvis, trying to ease the tension in her. “Shower,” she orders while she bites down on my lower lip hard enough to make me yelp.

  “You like pain.” I dig my fingers into her ass cheeks as a wicked grin spreads across her angelic face.

  “Maybe,” she giggles, and it does all sorts of fucked up things to my insides.

  I carry her into the shower and turn on the water, so the cold spray hits her.

  “Fuck,” she gasps and tightens her grip around me.

  “I plan to, freshman.” I lower her until her feet touch the floor and drag the rest of her clothes off, throwing them out of the shower. Her glistening skin against mine makes me want to devour her body and soul.

  Her frantic hands undo my jeans and she drags them down my legs as best she can with how sopping wet they are. “I think you’ll have to do that,” she laughs as I struggle to get them off, nearly falling over in the process.

  “This too.” She tugs at my t-shirt until it is over my head and joins the rest of our clothes on the floor.

  I yank her into me, pressing my hard cock against her. “You know we’re two fucked up sickos,” I growl into her neck, nibbling at the tender spot she so loves as the steam from the hot water finally fills the shower.

  “I know, but I don’t care. I need you inside me, now.” She grabs my face in her hands and her eyes dip to my lips. Needy and impatient.

  I grip her thighs and move her so the hot water cascades over her shoulder and position her opening at the tip of my cock. “I need a penny.” I lick her lips, pressing my hardness just inside her opening.

  She throws her head back and groans. “Now?” She tries to press into me.

  “Uh, uh,” I pull the tip of my cock out of her, gaining an evil look.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” she breathes and bites down on her lower lip.

  I lock eyes with her icy blues and press my forehead against hers, the hot water dripping between us, with my arm wrapped around her waist supporting her weight. “I’m going to fuck you after every kill.”

  Her eyes go wide, and I slam my cock into her as far as I can, the deep penetration catching her off guard and making her cry out in pure ecstasy. Her hips grind against me, seeking release, and I match her movements with every hard thrust.

  Her arms wrap around my neck and she buries her face into me, tightening around me, holding on, waiting to spiral out of control.

  “I’m going to blow my load any minute.” I bury into her in deep, hard thrusts. My breaths heave in my chest as I pick up my pace and I can feel her pussy tightening around my cock, milking it.

  “I don’t care.” She shudders against me, her release spasming through her as she throws her head back and grinds against me, while guttural moans escape her sultry lips.

  Her tight pussy pulsates around my cock, and I reluctantly pull out and manage to get her feet firmly on the tiles before I blow all over her stomach. I lean my head against the shower glass as my dick continues to throb.

  “It’s everywhere.” She runs her fingers through my cum on her stomach.

  “I think that’s a world record for the quickest I’ve blown my load,” I watch her carefully, waiting for her to lose it from earlier. But she just looks up at me with lust-filled eyes, unsatiated even after coming not two minutes ago. “Are you okay?” I place my palms against her cheeks and make her look deep into my eyes. “It’s okay if you’re not. Talk to me.”

  She stares deep into the pits of my dark soul, touching parts of me I have hidden from everyone for so long, I wasn’t sure they would ever resurface. Her gaze penetrates my heart, splitting it open to reveal the real me. The vulnerable me. From just one longing look, she manages to break down the solid walls I built to protect myself from getting hurt, from feeling anything but numbness, and I allow her to destroy them. I’ll allow her to break me if she wants, so long as I have right here, right now, for as long as I can.

  “I love you,” she whispers up at me, her eyes wary and waiting. She looks so vulnerable, standing in front of me, beautifully naked and watching me as though she just gave her heart to the devil himself.

  “I fucking love you.” I kiss her with emotion that borders on violence, but she doesn’t buckle under me, she meets me push for push, giving to me what I crave most.

  Her.

  ***

  I feel her l
ightly tracing my skin with her fingertips, the sensation is relaxing. I keep my eyes closed for a few moments, wanting to savor the morning a little longer.

  “Are you awake?” Her voice chimes through the room.

  “Mmm,” I roll over and open my eyes.

  “Is your mom going to be alright?” Her eyebrows furrow in worry.

  I reach up and brush the lines away. “She knows this world better than most. She has seen a lot worse and has been through situations that you couldn’t even comprehend. My mom is made of tough skin. She held the Russo family together for many years. She’ll be okay,” I reassure her.

  “Does she have anyone here to look out for her? What if others try to cross you?” She leans up on her elbow.

  The very thought of those fuckers makes my blood turn to ice and fury coil in my gut. That little bastard, Andrea, deserved more than just getting his throat sliced for what he has done to my family. The satisfaction of feeling the blade slice through his skin, cutting through his vocal chords so he couldn’t scream and watching him bleed out after his carotid artery was severed, was just icing on the fucking bloody cake.

  “We have blood relatives here. Everyone mixed up with Giovanni and Andrea have already been dealt with.” I chuck her under the chin and grin.

  “What?” She pushes at me.

  “You’ve really embraced this mafia life,” I chuckle.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve witnessed and taken part in murder. You’ve been kidnapped, attacked, and threatened. I’d say we’ll make a soldier out of you yet.” I lean down and kiss her nose.

  “I’m not taking part in any of your family business,” she argues.

  “Oh, freshman, you have no idea how much you’re going to love it.” I jump up and pull the covers off her. “Get up. We have a plane to catch.” I lean down and slap her ass before escaping into the bathroom.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Summer

  I watch the luggage carousel go around and wait for our bags while Enzo makes a few phone calls. I think back to the past few days and the things I’ve witnessed and the man I shot dead. I’m more concerned with the fact that I feel nothing. No remorse and no anxiety. I’m sure it will all rear its ugly head, once I’m alone, and out of nowhere it will crush me under its burden. Is this what Enzo goes through? No wonder he falls apart when it gets too much.