Page 140 of Twisted Vows

Heavy, electric silence folds in.

She moves first. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“You shouldn’t have been here.”

Her laugh is small and humorless. “Guess we’re both bad at staying where we’re supposed to be. They told me I’d be the first to pay, so I figured I may as well give myself up before they came for me.”

There’s blood on her sleeve that could be hers or someone else’s. She smells like gunpowder and rain. The sight and scent twist something sharp inside my ribs. She inches closer. “Enzo, I…”

“No.” The word rips out of my locked jaw. If she says more, I’ll break. “Not now. We’re leaving.”

Her hand catches my arm. Warm. Familiar enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

“Please. Let me say this.” The tremor in her voice cuts through the armor I’ve been constructing for weeks. She’s shaking but still trying to stand proud. “I never meant for any of this. The lies, Dante… I thought I could fix it. I thought…”

“Stop.”

“No.” She gasps for air, her eyes glistening. “You deserve to know why. My father…he used me. Manipulated everything. I didn’t trust anyone, not even you. I was scared.”

Her confession spills like blood from an old wound that never healed.

My chest splits open. Every word she speaks tears at the wounds I’ve been trying to cauterize with rage. I want to believe her…so badly.

“How long?” The question lands colder than I intend. At my sides, my hands curl into fists. “How long did you know about Dante? About your father’s deals?”

“Not until it was too late.” Her voice breaks. Tears spill down her cheeks, but she doesn’t wipe them away. “I swear, Enzo. I didn’t know what he planned. When I found out…”

“Too late is still too late.” My voice cracks. I hate that. Hate that she can still do this to me.

She recoils like I’ve slapped her. “I’m trying to uncover the truth. I’m trying to make it right…”

“Make it right?” A dark, hollow, broken laugh rips from my throat. “My brother rotted in prison because of your family. He died there, Sophia. Alone. And you want to make it right?”

She flinches. More tears fall.

I should stop. I should embrace her. But the fury has grown into a living thing, clawing its way out.

Another humorless laugh escapes my lips. “Truth? The truth is that nothing can alter the past. Do you think corpses care about intentions?”

She sobs, her tears cascading unchecked. “You’re not this,” she whispers. “I know you feel resentful, but you’re not…the monster you’re acting like.”

“Acting?” I clench my hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

“You can always choose not to be like them. You don’t have to ruin everything good that’s left in you.”

A perilous silence stretches between us. I tilt her chin up with my fingers so she has to look at me. “If I’m the beast,” I enunciate with care, “then it was you who turned me into one.”

She steadies herself, her eyes reflecting surprise. The pain descends like a hammer, but she stays put.

“Well, then, I’m sorry,” she sucks in a breath, “because I wanted to reclaim your human side.”

Her regret hangs in the air.

Withdrawing from her feels like ripping off a part of my body. “It would’ve been better for you not to have come here.”

“I don’t know who did this.” Her voice cracks. “I was tied up. I saw some of the fight but it was mostly a blur. I came here on my own, though. I made that choice. Why? Upset someone else robbed you of your revenge?” she asks, her tone desperate and accusatory. “Or because I remind you of what you used to feel?”

“You’re just a job that went too far.”