The Trophy Wife

NINETEEN: Alive

"What the f*ck does that mean?" Did I kill him? In my attempt to kill myself, did I kill Enzo?

"The doctor will be in in just a moment." Another one smiled at me as she led her crew out of my room.

"Will you excuse us?" Matteo showed Lucas to the door. "I have a couple of questions that I would like to ask Mrs. Granucci in private."

"Where's Enzo?" I asked as soon Lucas was out of my sight.

"I believe the nurse already told us what happened to him." He sat on the chair beside my bed and sighed.

"He is no longer with us is not an answer. You really expect me to believe that bullsh*t excuse those robots gave us? Who is he no longer with?"

"Us, Evelyn. They were trying to be sensitive. Do I need to say it out loud? Enzo is dead."

"No." I shook my head. "No. No he's not. He can't be."

"But he is." Matteo said softly. "The real question is how did you survive?"

"No." Why wasn't I able to say anything else? "No! How can you just sit there like that? You don't even care that he's gone!" I accused in disgust.

"Unlike you, I have dealt with plenty of grief in my life. I've learned how to handle it. Rather than having an emotional breakdown, I prefer to focus on damage control."

He made my stomach turn. Matteo was there the day Enzo was born. He had known him for his entire life yet my husband's apparent death didn't seem to have any effect on him.

"Bullsh*t. This is all bullsh*t!"

"I have a few questions for you, Evelyn." Matteo didn't give me a chance to tell him to fuck off. He dove right into the interrogation. "Alberto Santoro's maid found him dead in bed. She claims that someone snuck in in the middle of the night and put a bullet in his head. She told me that she heard the gunshot, but whoever did it was gone before she made it to his room. I know it wasn't her because the security cameras captured the whole thing.

"I also know that he was one of the men who agreed to help you, so I was wondering if by any chance you knew who was responsible for sending a couple of hitmen to his house."

"Enzo." I whispered.

"Enzo was here in Italy. He was with you." Matteo countered.

"Ever heard of a cellphone? I'm sure you're familiar with the damage that a single call can do." I closed my eyes because I felt like an idiot. Enzo would never hand me over to Alberto Santoro. Why would I have even thought for a second that he'd allow that to happen?

I couldn't help but wonder if I'd still be in a hospital bed if I knew. If I heard the phone call, if he told me not to worry about it, if he assured me that he would take care of it.

We'd probably be home. Arguing and fighting over everything that had happened. The thought almost brought a smile to my face because in that moment I wished it was real.

A part of me believed that it could still be true. I believed that Enzo was going to come back to me solely because I didn't believe that I killed him. In my head, that was impossible. There was no way in hell that I could have killed Enzo Granucci.

"You really expect me to believe that after almost fifteen years of feuding, Enzo would just decide to pull the trigger for no real reason other than the fact that Alberto helped you escape?"

"I promised him that I'd become his if things went south. They did, so I told Enzo and he made a phone call. Now Alberto is dead. Connect the dots, Bianchi."