28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

It's Thursday evening, and Enzo decides he wants us to have dinner together. Usually he can't be bothered to do something as simple as eat with me, so I can only assume he's going to torment me the entire time. I guess paperwork gets boring after a while.

The marriage papers still sit on the table, exactly where I left them. They're still taunting me, but I'm getting better at ignoring them. Enzo ignores them too. I have only a few days left of the choice being mine.

I've spent a lot of time thinking over this whole thing. More so since the conversation with Rafael. It certainly opened my mind up a little. Made me learn a few things about Enzo, but it changes nothing. Not in the grand scheme of things. Though my opinion of Enzo may have softened a fraction, it doesn't change what he's doing.

I tried to accept my fate. Tried to convince myself it won't be so bad.

I have everything here I had at home. My life isn't much different. It's not like I went out and did stuff before. The main difference, outside of my location and the people I'm with, is the fact my choices are gone. If I did want to go out, I can't. Knowing that? It's too much for me to accept.

So, accepting all this was a failure.

But I did come up with an idea, since the one to make him despise me has failed. I mean, the man pulled a bloody tampon from my vagina after I almost blinded his best right-hand man. If neither of those things has made him hate me, what will? Nothing, that's what.

So I've changed tactics. Officially.

I'm no longer trying to make Enzo hate me. I'm going to make him like me. Going to gain his trust.

If he trusts me, maybe he'll let me go somewhere and I can escape. Once I'm past that gate, I'm fine. It's that stupid gate stopping me.

So I spent all of yesterday figuring out how the hell I'm going to do this. And what I came up with is simple. Use my body. It sounds awful, and I don't like it, but I've already had sex with the man—kind of, for about a minute. But if all I have to do is tease him a little, let him fuck me a few times, and that means I can leave—it'll be worth it. And I won't ever speak of it again.

Okay, so maybe my plan isn't only to gain his trust. It's to distract him with sex, but whatever. They're practically the same thing in a man's eyes. Besides, I won't only be trying to have sex with the guy. I'm going to force myself to be nice too.

"How was your day?" I ask.

He looks up at me with a raised brow. "Fine," he answers carefully. Like he knows I'm up to something.

"That's nice."

He keeps his stare on me as I cut a piece of pork chop. He places his silverware down, folding his hands and resting them in front of his chin.

"What do you want?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, keeping my tone even as I put the piece into my mouth and chew. It's delicious, as is everything I eat here.

"Clearly you want something. You don't speak kindly to me."

"Maybe I've finally realized I don't have another option. If I'm stuck here, I may as well make the best of it."

"Doubtful."

"I take offense to that."

"No, you don't."

I reach for my wine and take a sip. "Don't act like you know me, Enzo. You said it yourself you haven't been around in years. Don't treat me like every other person you know, because you don't know a damn thing."

He holds my gaze. "Okay."

"I do have a few questions I'd like answered—"

"Ah, there it is," he says, pointing at me with the knife he picked up.

I scoff. "I'm not so stupid to think being nice to you will make you give in to me, Enzo. I know you'll only tell me what you want to tell me, but I have to try. If I'm going to stay here forever, the least you can do is help make me comfortable. And for that, I need answers."

He blinks and nods. "I suppose that's fair. Ask your questions."

"Who are you protecting me from?"

"The people your father pissed off."

"Which is?"

"I'm not answering that."

"Why not?"

He stabs a potato, eating it before looking up at me. "Do you want the truth?"

My stomach flips. Is he really going to tell me the truth? I put my silverware down and give him all my attention.

"Yes, please."

He sighs. "I won't tell you who your father pissed off because it's going to destroy your relationship with him and that's not for me to do."

What the hell does that mean? Since when does he care about anything like that?

"So I'll just go through my life avoiding it? I deserve the truth." Tears sting my eyes, and I push them away.

"And you'll get it. One day."

"One day when?"

"One day when you can be trusted to speak with your father, and he gives it to you."

"You'll let me speak with my father?"

"Eventually, yes."

I think about it for a moment. Pushing this subject may not be smart, but I'm so close. Enzo is difficult to read. I never know if I should hold back or push harder. In the end, I guess it doesn't matter. He's already made his mind up. Always a step ahead of me. That's what I need to change.

"How do I know you aren't lying to me?" I ask carefully, thankful the wayward emotions have passed.

"I've never lied to you."

"But how do I know that?"

He's doing nothing to hide his frustrations with me now. Yet, he at least is answering me.

"Your issues with not trusting me are yours. I've been nothing but honest with you from the beginning. I've done nothing to make you think you can't trust me, and I will continue to do so until my last dying breath. I don't like liars; therefore, I am not one. There is nothing I can do to make you trust me. You have to do that on your own. All I can do is be me."

That is—wow.

But no. No, I won't let his nice words make me feel bad or feel like I should give in. Enzo is charismatic. He's in the mafia! Of course he's used to bullshitting people. He's like a professional bullshitter!

"But you are lying to me," I argue. "You won't tell me what I want to know."

"Not giving you information you want and lying are two very different things."

My mouth drops open, but I snap it shut, looking away so I don't let my anger get the better of me. I hate that he's right.

Focus, Jordan. You want him to trust you.

Trust. Trust. Trust.

"I guess that's fair."

The papers catch my attention again. I've considered signing them, if only to prove I'm accepting my fate. If he knows that, he'll think I'm weak. That I'll do whatever he wants. Trust, in a sense. But it isn't enough. The thought of lying down and taking this makes me sick to my stomach.

I'm not signing those papers.

I swear he's keeping them here and giving me the option only to mess with me. What other reason would he have for it?

"Can I ask you something?" I ask after a short bout of silence.

He sighs an annoyed sound. "Isn't that what you've been doing all dinner?" I hold his stare, not wanting to answer that, because my response won't be nice. "What, Jordan?"

He used my name. He only uses my real name when he's annoyed with me or being way too serious. Otherwise, it's angel.

"What will being married to you be like?"

He winces but recovers quickly. Ah, so the man can be shocked. It's clear he wasn't expecting me to ask that. The moment he reacts, it's gone, and back in place is his usual asshole self.

"Whatever you want it to be."

"I want it to be non-existent."

"Whatever you want it to be except that."

I groan, dropping my face into my hands. I shake my head and take a few breaths before looking at him again.

"Enzo, I'm trying to be nice here. I'm trying not to argue with you because I'm tired of it, okay? Do you not understand I am only twenty-one? I have my whole life ahead of me. I want to get married and enjoy the marriage. I want to go on dates with my husband. Share meals. Be cuddled. Be told I'm loved and cared for. I want a family. I want to have children and go on family vacations."

"You can have all that."

"I want it to be real!"

My hands ball into fists and I hate that emotion clogs my throat when the words leave my mouth.

The first part of my spiel was meant to be a bunch of bullshit, mostly to see his reaction, but it is sort of the truth. I do want all those things, and I'm fine with him knowing it. The last part, though? That was way too honest, and I hate how vulnerable I feel under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Do you know how many people, even these days, still believe in arranged marriages? They happen all the time, and you know what?"

"What?" I croak.

"They're happy. They learn to accept their lives and what they have. Everything you named is possible. You can have it all—and more."

"Even children?" I ask.

"Especially children."

The way he says it makes it seem like he wants it too. Like he's already thought about this. Planned it all out. Has he?

For the first time, against my will, I wonder if being here is the worst thing to happen to me. I mean, I was going to marry Zach. The guy was cheating on me for how long? Imagine if I'd been stuck with him? At least Enzo knows how to please me sexually. He's hotter than Zach. Way hotter. More fun to be around too.

"I still have so many questions," I mutter.

"Like what?" he asks carefully.

"Will I always be trapped in the house? Will our children be allowed to leave? Am I in danger? Will they be? And what about Rafael?"

"I will never allow harm to come to you or our children. Ever." He holds my gaze for a long moment. "As for the rest of it? That all depends."

"On what?"

"On you."