The mansion was quiet when Enzo walked in that evening. Too quiet,except for the echo of his own footsteps on the marble floors. After returning from the mall, he had left Lia for an urgent business which had almost gone wrong and he was pissed but, that didn't stop him from going to check on Lia.
He loosened his tie as he took the elevator, his jaw clenched, his mind still replaying the mall scene,the shook in the woman's eye, the tremor in her voice when he snapped at her over a stupid pink teddy bear.
He told himself it shouldn't bother him.
It was just a minor scene, nothing worth his time.
And yet... it did.
He opened the door to Lia's room slowly and his eyes met her peaceful figure on the bed. She was hugging a stuffed penguin as she stirred slightly.
Enzo chuckled, looking around the room that now looked like it came out of a disney cartoon before closing the door gently behind him.
He shrugged off his jacket and poured a drink immediately he got to his office.
Then his laptop pinged. A new message.
He set the glass down and clicked it open. It was from Lorenzo.
SUBJECT:About the woman ( Ice cream girl)
His pulse kicked once….. then twice….. as he opened it .Lorenzo had attacked a file , along with a short message that read:
I did a background check like you asked. Her name is Isla Brooks. You'll want to read this brother.
Enzo clicked on the attachment.
Within seconds, his breath left his chest.
Medical reports. Psychological evaluations. Hospital records. Each one spelling the same truth. A car accident three years ago, both parents dead.
Isla the only survivor. She'd sustained severe head trauma. The file described it clinically, but the line that hit him hardest was the last line.
Cognitive function comparable to that of a five year old child.
The words blurred for a moment before coming back into focus. Enzo leaned back, rubbing his temple, his stomach knotting.
He yelled at her.
He humiliated her —a woman who didn't even have the mind to defend herself.
The memory of her tear-filled eyes burned through him. He hadn't known but it didn't make it better.
He slammed the laptop shut, the sound echoing in the quiet study. Hissed drink sat untouched on the desk, ice already melted into water.
From his phone, another message popped up from Lorenzo.
This one was more... Lorenzo.
I wish I could see your face right now. Damn I'm missing out.
Enzo huffed out a humorless laugh, dragging a hand over his face. "Stupid," He muttered.
He rose, pacing toward the window. Outside, the city light blinked faintly through the night fog. Somewhere out there, Isla Brooks was probably curled up in her room, still crying because of him.
He shouldn't care.
He never did.
People lived, people died. Accidents happen everyday.
None of it ever registered with him.
So why the hell did this one feel different?
He rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled deeply, but the guilt sat heavily on his chest, unfamiliar and stubborn. The image of Isla crying as her babysitter dragged her away burned through his mind.
"Get a grip," he muttered to himself.
He wasn't the kind of man to loose sleep over strangers, much less over some woman who didn't have sense to stay out of his way.
But the more he told himself that, the harder it became to believe.
He opted. His laptop again. Photographs. Hospital reports. Note from doctors.
Mental regression due to brain injury.
Requires constant supervision.
Displays emotional and cognitive behavior consists with a child aged five to six.
He shut his laptop again, his fingers pressing against his temples.
He had seen plenty of broken people in his life, but not like her. Not the kind of broken that was innocent.
And now, somehow, he'd crushed a piece of it without even realizing.
His phone buzzed. A message from one of his men about tomorrow's deal, but Enzo ignored it. He poured himself a drink instead, finishing it in one gulp. For years, he'd trained himself to feel nothing. To kill when needed, to command without hesitation, to walk away from every mess untouched.
But tonight, the silence in his study pressed differently, light a weight reminding him of that one person who'd looked at him without fear or hate, but confusion….like he was the one who didn't make sense.
Enzo tilted his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He wanted to believe he just pitied her, and it wasn't guilt but deep down, he knew better and that was the problem.
"Why do I care?" He muttered under his breath.
His time carried irritation but the guilt in his chest betrayed him. Isla was not his problem. She never was. And yet, her pale face and the tears in her eyes when he snapped at her wouldn't leave his mind.
Enzo stood, walking towards his room as he undid the buttons of his shirt. He took a cold shower once he got to his room and tried to lie down. But sleep didn't come. His mind run wild, her silence, her tears, the flash of hurt in her eyes.
It haunted him more that he cared to admit. It was like a nightmare.
By 4a.m , he gave up trying. The city outside was quiet, save for the faint hum of passing cars.
Enzo sat at the edge of the bed, fingers pressed to his temple, jaw tight.
When morning finally broke, he was still awake, exhausted, irritable and no closer to finding out why he couldn't stop thinking about Isla.
The morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, warm and golden, too bright for Enzo who had no sleep. His eyes burned and his temples throbbed which surprised him because he was used to not sleeping given the nature of his job.
Or so he thought.
"Uncle Enzo!" Lia bounced into the kitchen, her messy hair sticking out in every direction. She only had one slipper on and she was clutching a stuffed toy like a trophy.
"You promised me pancakes today!"
He blinked at her for a moment, disoriented. Then, almost against his will, the corner of his mouth tugged upward.
"You're awake already?" He asked, his voice rough with sleep and something heavier.
"That's because I don't want to miss you. You go to work really early," she said hopping into a stool.
"And I don't like boring breakfast. Daddy makes boring breakfasts."
Enzo arched a brow, cracking an egg into a bowl, "Is that so?"
Lia nodded. "He makes healthy ones."
A soft sound, something like a chuckle, escaped him.
He didn't remember the last time he laughed.
Lia's chatter filled the silence between them as they cooked. Her stories about her friends, her insistence on stirring the batter even though she kept spilling it. The way she squealed when he flipped the pancake midair and caught it perfectly. For a brief second, the apartment didn't feel hollow.
But even as Lia giggled, Enzo's thoughts kept drifting.
Back to Isla.
Her innocent look.
Her quiet voice.
The report Lorenzo had sent him and how he had read it several times before convincing himself it didn't matter.
He watched the butter melt in tha pan, and it somehow reminded him of the disappointed look and Isla's face when her ice cream fell. It made him tighten his grip on the spatula.
"Uncle Enzo?"
He blinked. "Hm?"
"You burnt it."
Smoke curled upward from the pan. He cured under his breath, earning a gasp from Lia.
"Bad word!" She pointed at him accusingly.
"You didn't hear that."
"I totally did."
Her laughter echoed across the kitchen, and Enzo couldn't help the faint twitch of his lips that followed. He handed her the least burnt pancake and sat across from her, pretending everything was normal.
But it wasn't.
The silence between her giggles only made his mind louder.
As he cut into his pancake, he realized his appetite was gone. He dropped the fork, staring at the food until his phone buzzed on with counter.
Jacob.
He frowned and answered. "Speak!"
The voice on the other end was panicked. "Boss…..one of our warehouses…."
"What about it?" Enzo asked, his chair scraping scraping the floor.
"It's been hit."
The sound of gunshots echoed in the back.
For a split second, Enzo didn't move. The old part of him, the cold and calculating part of him that never hesitated took over. "Get more men there Now'' he ordered, standing so fast his chair tipped.
Lia jumped, startled "Zio Enzo?''
He forced his tene to be steady. " stay here dear,I'll be back soon. If you need anything let Mary know. Her small voice followed him as he strode out of the kitchen .
" ok,bye!"
Enzo strode into his room, the walls felt somehow closer and the faint morning light did nothing to soften the dark anger spreading through his chest.
He yanked opened his wardrobe. Rows of suits strared back at him, all tailored, all pristine. Instead, he reached for a black polo shirt, simple, fitted and far less forgiving.
The cotton spread across his chest as he pulled it on, his muscles tense beneath the fabric. He paired it with dark trousers, slipping his watch onto his wrist with precision of habit.
In the mirror, his reflection looked back at him, composed, cold, merciless. The same man who will kill without hesitation. But something in his eyes had shifted since yesterday.
He buttoned the top of his shirt and froze for a moment. A flash of Isla's teary face crossed his mind, the way she let herself be pulled away, small and broken, because of him.
He clenched his jaw and looked away.
"Focus," he muttered.
He grabbed his gun from his drawer, checked the magazine and tucked it into the back of his waistband.
"Uncle Enzo?" Lia's soft voice came immediately he stepped out of the door.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
He turned, his expression softening for a fraction of a second. "Work."
"It's scary work, isn't it?" She whispered. "Dad told me."
'Fucking Lorenzo,' Enzo cussed under his breath as he crouched down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"There's ice cream, chocolates and cakes in the fridge. I'm going to lock the doors and activate the security system. No one will be able to get in unless it me, okay?"
She nodded slowly as Enzo scolded himself for giving all the maids and security guards the weekend off because he wanted to spend quality time with his niece.
He rose to his feet, turning towards the door. By the time he stepped into the garage,the mask had fallen completely back into place.
Enzo Marcelli, the man no one dared cross was back.