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

by Melinda Terranova

  “Nice shot,” Dante claps, impressed with the placement between the eyes.

  The recruit lies in a tumbled heap, the back of his head blown apart, blood and brains spilling onto the marble floor.

  And so, the elimination begins.

  Not five minutes pass and in strolls my father, followed by Vito, and Lorenzo. You can feel the authority in the air, it crackles like electricity, humming, and buzzing between them. Their sharp suits are crisp and fit to perfection, none of them needing to worry about getting their hands dirty. That’s what we three sons are for, the messy work.

  My father stands at the head of the table with Lorenzo, and Vito, a step behind him. His eyes roam the room and land on the dead recruit, satisfaction flashes across his eyes, happy to be weeding the weak out already.

  “Recruits, welcome to initiation. You have been lucky enough to have been picked out of many. Consider this your lucky day. We have sent you all on errands, testing your allegiance to the family. Some of you passed, some of you did not.” His eyes slide to me.

  I move from my position, slowly stalking around the room, making the recruits anxious, until I stand behind them. This way they won’t know if they passed or failed, only that their life ends with a shot to the head. Luca and Dante move from their posts to flank me just in case a dumb fucker tries to run.

  I stand behind the weakest link, this little piss weak excuse for a human, balked and almost cost us an important business transaction. I hold my gun out in front of me, line it up with the center of his head, and pull the trigger. Light flashes from the barrel and I watch as the dead-beat drops to the ground.

  Two down.

  “As you can see, there is only one way out of this family, and that is by death,” my Father says, his tone hushed.

  I move along and watch the recruits stiffen, all hoping I don’t stop behind them. I hold my gun loosely beside me, about to play a little game I like to call trigger. A game Dante, Luca, and I invented to get through this massacre. The rules of the game are to see if I can shoot the recruits quickly enough before the first one falls to the ground. I’ve only ever won once, and that was because we didn’t have many to kill that year.

  “On your marks,” Luca whispers.

  “Get set,” Dante adds.

  I cock my gun, aim it at the first recruit, and fire at the back of his skull. Without blinking I take aim and manage to shoot all seven before the first one drops. I smile at my handy work, pleased I beat my record. My hands tingle with pins and needles, the power of the gun still vibrating through them. I live for that tingle, it gets my blood pumping, making me love this side of the game. I avoid looking at my kills, their lifeless bodies are better ignored. Thinking about them as people only makes my demons rise to the occasion. I’ll leave my demons for when I’m alone.

  “Fuck yes,” Luca breathes, not going unnoticed by my father, who shoots him a ‘grow the fuck up’ glare.

  We all fall back in line as the smell of death and the metallic tang of blood fills the air around us.

  “Recruits,” my father calls them forward, indicating for the five remaining to step up to the table.

  They all move in unison, already working as one. I’ve done well this year, my extra hours spent studying them and deploying them on almost impossible business adventures with the made men recruited before them, will most definitely pay off in the future.

  “Hold out your right hand, palm up,” my father directs.

  Vito makes his way around the table to stand beside the first recruit. He takes out his large knife and slices the palm of the first guy. The poor guy winces, trying his hardest not to crumble. Vito proceeds down the line, slicing each palm one by one before returning to his post behind my father.

  “You will bleed for this family. You will live for nothing else but this family. You will obey the code of silence.” My father picks up five cards, all with St. Christopher, the patron saint of protection, printed on them. He hands Lorenzo the five cards.

  Lorenzo gives each recruit a card. “Smear your blood over the card and then cup it in both your palms with your hands held out in front of you,” Lorenzo instructs before walking back to stand behind my father.

  The recruits all do as they are told, obedient, and eager to please. I step up then, right behind the first recruit, and notice him flinch ever so slightly. Damn right fucker, you should remember to fear me. I take out the lighter from my pocket and light the blood-covered card in his palm. I light each card after that and stand back at my post.

  “Repeat after me,” my father glances at each recruit, watching their reactions to the pain in their palms. “I swear to serve this family, unconditionally, until my death. I will honor the name Russo and bleed for it.”

  The recruits all repeat the words my father spoke. Centuries-old and sacred words passed on from generation to generation of Russo men and their recruits.

  “Sangue dentro. Morte fuori,” my father says with conviction.

  The recruits repeat his words, sealing their fate. They spilled blood to get in and the only way out is death.

  “Benvenuto,” my father cheers.

  “Benvenuto,” Lorenzo, and Vito repeat.

  “You can now put out the flames, my men,” my father nods. He waits for the new made men to finish distinguishing their burning cards and flesh before he speaks again. “Your first task as my new family is to clean up this mess.” He looks at the dead bodies.

  With that, the three brothers stride out of the cellar after that.

  Initiation is complete.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Enzo

  The clean-up took hours, I could have left the new guys to clean it up themselves, but I wanted them to know I can get my hands dirty too. I don’t want anyone to think I’ll run this shit show the way my father does when it’s finally my turn to rule the Russo kingdom. Besides, these new guys needed to be shown the ropes, where the incinerators are located, and what chemicals to use to remove every last trace of DNA from the cellar floor and walls.

  I get home around three in the morning, usually, I’d go bury myself in pussy, but not now. Now, I’m pussy whipped by a girl who doesn’t even fucking want me. A girl my father forbids me to be with. So, here I am in my apartment drinking my expensive rum, hoping I get wasted enough to pass out before my demons come knocking. Before the solid, but ever-present, walls of my sanity are slowly chipped away once again. When my inner turmoil rears its ugly fucking head and tries to pull me under. Only this time I don’t have her to distract me. I have nothing.

  Three fucking hours of sleep before my phone is ringing beside my head, Unwritten Law’s Teenage Suicide ripping me from sleep. I grab my phone and blink my way through my grogginess to see who’s calling.

  “This better be fucking good,” I breathe.

  “Get over here, now.” Dante hangs up.

  “Fuck,” I growl into the pillow and wait a few minutes to get my bearings before I jump into the shower.

  I dress in ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a gray hoodie. Fuck dressing up this early in the morning, I’m too tired to give a fuck what I look like. The alcohol is still affecting my system and I need to concentrate more than usual when driving to Dante’s. I pull up outside his high rise, the valet taking my keys to park the car. I ride the elevator all the way to the penthouse, my thoughts flickering to that first time in the elevator with Summer. How her doe eyes betrayed her set shoulders. She wanted me just as fucking bad as I wanted her.

  “It’s me.” I knock on his door. Dante opens it almost immediately. “You look like shit.” I stride in.

  “Thanks.” He closes the door and locks it.

  “So, why did you call me at fucking six in the morning?” I head to his kitchen to make coffee.

  Dante paces his loungeroom, the view out his floor to ceiling windows frames another angle of the city. “The guards last night. One of them was overheard on his phone talking to someone about the casino deal that is taking place this weekend
.”

  “Who told you this information?” I look at him, my interest piqued.

  “One of our new recruits, what’s his name? The blond kid.” Dante waves his hand in the air. He is always bad with names.

  “Hunter?” I froth the milk and wait for it to reach the perfect temperature.

  “Yeah, that kid. He said the guard was acting suspicious, so he followed him to the back of the house. Long story short, the kid overheard the guard say something about intercepting the truck.” Dante looks at me, his eyes wild with anger.

  “Where’s Luca?” I look around the apartment.

  “I don’t know. I can’t get a hold of him.” Dante shrugs. “Probably with his cop.”

  I hand Dante his coffee and sit on his overly plush gray sofa, placing my gun on the coffee table. “Call this Hunter kid,” I say as an afterthought.

  “Right. Why didn’t I think of that?” He waits and waits. No answer. “Probably asleep after last night.” Dante sits on the sofa opposite me.

  “When did he tell you this information?” I look out the window and admire the view.

  “About an hour ago. I could barely make out what he was saying at first but then he repeated it louder and hung up.” Dante sips his coffee.

  “Shit. We have to go.” I jump up, grabbing my gun, shoving it against my back, pushing it down into my boxers.

  “What?” Dante looks at me alarmed.

  “I think the kid is dead. I fucking knew the guard at the gates was scheming something.” I open the door and wait for Dante to collect his gear.

  We arrive at my father’s house, a new guard positioned out front. I open my window about to speak when he waves us through. I drive up to the back of the house. Both of us storm inside and run straight to my father’s office. It’s empty.

  ‘Fuck,” I growl in frustration. “Go check if Salvatore is upstairs in his room. I’ll go check the incinerator.” I run out of the office toward the back.

  I sprint to the shed that houses the incinerator and slam through the doors. It’s still fucking burning, only ever so slightly. “Mother fucker.” I punch the shed door making it fall off its hinges. The bodies from last night would well and truly be done by now.

  “Are you okay, sir?” The guard from last night, that was guarding my father’s office, approaches me.

  “Who was on the gates last night?” I turn and glare at him.

  “I’m not in charge of the team. I’m not sure who was positioned where. Why?” The guard looks at the incinerator and back to me.

  “Seems, the fucker out the front took it upon himself to make some new enemies,” I seethe. My attention turning to Dante as he jogs across the lawn toward me.

  “He’s not in.” Dante eyes the guard.

  “Mr. Russo left just before five this morning. He said it was urgent and to keep an eye on his house while he was absent,” the guard explains.

  I chew the inside of my mouth, trying to piece everything together, but nothing makes any damn sense. “Thank you,” I dismiss the guard and wait for him to return to the house before I say anything.

  “What do you think is going on?” Dante pushes at the shed door and watches it crash to the ground.

  “The kid is dead.” I nod toward the incinerator.

  “Fuck off.” Dante eyes the embers through the small window.

  “We’ll have to call in troops from our Boston chapter.” I start to scroll through my phone and call Marco.

  “Get Johnny Nicotera a message. Tell him we need to borrow a few men.” I hang up.

  “What do we do now?” Dante picks up the shed door and leans it against the outside wall.

  “We wait,” I reply.

  ***

  Dante and I sit across from the bakery, the morning rush nearly over. I watch her and wonder if she can feel my gaze and if it causes her skin to crawl. There’s no sign of the fucker who didn’t want to keep his hands to himself. The thought makes me smug.

  “How long are we sitting here?” Dante disrupts my thoughts.

  “I don’t know until I’m satisfied she’s still alone.” I sip my coffee.

  “Are we staking out her place tonight too?” Dante twists in his seat to get more comfortable.

  “Haven’t decided yet. Usually, I get Jase to sit outside her house until late, I’m not sure if I’m stable enough to do that. Especially if she comes home late.” I stare at her as she wipes the tables down for the hundredth time.

  “You know, your sick obsession with her is confusing,” Dante chuckles.

  “It’s simple. I want what I can’t have, and I’ll make sure no other fucker gets it either.” I smile at thoughts of kidnapping her.

  “You’re one twisted, fucked up, evil bastard. But I like it.” Dante nods as his eyes scan the street.

  “I would never try to deny it, either.” A wicked grin spreads across my face.

  “Do you think she’ll ever come back to Verona?”

  “Amber seems to think she will. But the little shit won’t even tell me when she speaks with Summer. Sometimes I think she has more balls than the three of us put together,” I laugh.

  “Don’t mess with that little firecracker.” Dante shakes his head.

  We wait until Summer finishes her shift and I watch her head toward her car, the car her little high school boyfriend bought her. My insides churn and it feels like I have dynamite in my head, fuse lit and ready to explode.

  I follow her home, driving a few cars behind. I drove my father’s Ferrari Enzo, even though it isn’t exactly inconspicuous, I didn’t want to turn up in the same car twice, and it drives like a fucking wet dream.

  Summer pulls up in front of her house and I roll to a stop a few houses down and cut the lights, I watch her make her way to the front door. Before she unlocks it, she glances around as though she is checking for someone watching her. I get a sick sense of satisfaction knowing I’m making her feel a little scared and on edge, the fact that I’m not even anywhere near her, gets my dick hard. It’s as though she can sense me, feel me watching her. Knowing in the back of her mind that there’s danger lurking.

  “We’re not going to sit here all night, are we? I need to take a piss.” Dante looks at me.

  “We’re not staying all night, just a little longer.” I swallow as she disappears into the house. “Has Luca text you back yet?” I look at Dante.

  “He did a few hours ago, but he was in classes all day and said to call him when we get back home.” Dante shrugs. “Classes my ass, he’s been with his cop all day. He’s whipped,” he laughs.

  “Maybe we can use her to our advantage? I mean, the cops turn a blind eye to our business, and we do have a few on the inside working for us, but another to add to our team wouldn’t hurt.” My eyes flash to Summer’s driveway.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Dante follows my gaze.

  “The fucking pretty boy ex,” my voice leaks with fury as I watch him exit his car and waltz up to the front door and enter without knocking like he owns the place.

  “Enzo,” Dante grits through clenched teeth as he tries to grab my arm to stop me from leaving the car.

  “Watch my back.” I bend down and grin at him, my anger turned up a notch.

  “Fucking hell, hurry up,” Dante whisper shouts at me as I scurry down the road.

  I crouch down next to pretty boy’s rear tire and pull out my knife to slash it, only I can’t go through with it. The fuck is wrong with me? I’ve grown feelings or some shit. I huff in annoyance and jog back to see Dante eyeing me suspiciously.

  “What the fuck happened?” He looks over at me as I climb into the driver seat.

  “I heard a noise,” I lie and slam the door shut.

  Dante knows better than to continue with the questioning. I start the Enzo, it purrs as I sit there weighing up my options. What the fuck am I doing here? Anger and humiliation brew in me like a winter storm, dark and threatening. Never have I ever chased pussy like this, usually, I’m the one fending off crazy
bitches, and here I am sitting across the road from the only girl that I ever allowed to affect me. The only girl to ever walk away from me. Fuck her.

  “Don’t fucking let me come here again. Cuff me if you have to.” The anger finally taking over the obsession. This is much better, if I start to hate her, it might be easier to deal with.

  “You sure?” Dante glances at the house.

  “Fucking eh,” I breathe.

  I put the car in drive and fish tale past her house, the smell of burning rubber fills the cabin of the car, and the vibration through the steering wheel calms me. Hate and anger are emotions I am thoroughly acquainted with, feelings that ferment and fuse my very being.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Enzo

  I stroll across campus to Sinatra’s, happy to see Amber lunching by herself. I haven’t laid eyes on the New York princess for days, maybe my handiwork took effect.

  “Enzo.” Amber looks up at me, a smirk plastered on her face.

  I sit across from her. “Have you eaten?” I stare at the menu, even though it’s the same menu since the place opened.

  “Not yet.” She keeps looking at me.

  “What?” I raise my eyebrow and return my eyes to the menu.

  “How are you lately, Enzo? Gone on any road trips?” She leans forward, eager for my response.

  “I’m good, actually I’m fucking great like a giant blond weight has been lifted from me.” I smile at my own little joke.

  “Right, so you weren’t staking out Summer’s house in Uncle Salvatore’s Ferrari the other night?” She narrows her eyes.

  Before I can come up with a smart-ass response, we are approached by Amber’s friend Stephan, Jake, the handsy shit, and one of the new recruits, Mitchell.

  “Mitchell, how’re the hands?” I watch him falter, silent understanding crossing between us.

  “Good, man. Thanks for asking.” He smiles.