Chapter 37: Chapter 37

Elnora slammed the door behind her, the sharp sound reverberating through the hallway as she stormed toward the elevator. Her mind was a chaotic swirl, unsure of where she was headed or what she intended to do once she got there. It all made sense now, the reason she could never get into the Garden of Eden—it wasn’t just some exclusive club, it was the heart of the Castelli empire, hidden in plain sight. Her thoughts spiralled out of control, anger and frustration coiling tightly around her as she waited for the elevator.

Marcy would never forgive her for this. Elnora was certain of it. She had dragged Enrico into their lives, and somehow, that decision had set off a chain reaction, one that spiralled far beyond anything she could have predicted. And then there was Joe—Marcy had been head over heels for him, and now Elnora knew it was all just a ploy, a sick game to get closer to her. Everything, it seemed, could be traced back to Enrico.

The frustration coursed through her, boiling over as she leaned against the cold marble wall with a groan. She wasn’t entirely mad at Mason—after all, she had her own suspicions about Marcy—but she was furious that he’d taken Marcy, allowed his vicious enforcers to rough her up, and then kept it from her as if it was nothing.

The elevator chimed, jarring her back to the present, and she stepped inside, her hand hovering over the keypad. She had no idea where to go. With a sigh, she pressed the button for the lobby, counting the floors as they descended, trying to distract herself. But the most terrifying thought, the one that clawed at her insides, was the idea that Marcy might never forgive her.

As the doors slid open, she realized she’d used the private elevator; she couldn’t leave the building from here. Before she could make a move, Enrico appeared in the corridor, a smile on his lips.

“You,” she spat, the accusation escaping before she could stop it.

His brow arched in curiosity, and he motioned for her to step out. She did, her eyes locking onto Donni and his comrades standing nearby. Her jaw tightened.

“~Signoria~,” Donni greeted her, before shooting Enrico a vicious glare.

Elnora’s eyes flicked over him, wondering about his particular dislike for Enrico. But then she found herself wondering if he the one who’d hurt her friend. She almost scoffed at the thought. Could she even call Marcy her friend any more?

“What have I done this time?” Enrico asked with a heavy sigh of exasperation.

“Where’s Marcy?” she asked, then she cut him off before he could lie to her. “Just take me to see her. I’m not interested in your lies.”

Enrico held her gaze for a moment as if contemplating something before finally nodding. “This way,” he said, leading her down the hall.

Dread knotted in her gut as she followed him. How could she possibly explain this to Marcy? There was a very real chance she’d lose the only friend she had left. They stepped into the central lift, the mirrored walls reflecting back her tense, anxious face. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass.

“Come on,” Enrico urged as the doors opened on the twentieth floor. They passed two concierges, identical in their black blazers and crimson lipstick, who greeted Enrico with sugary smiles.

“~Signior~ Enrico,” they chimed in unison.

He ignored them, walking ahead of her with one hand tucked into his pocket. When they reached a room guarded by two armed men, Elnora’s stomach dropped.

“What’s this, Ric? Is she being held prisoner now?” she snapped, gesturing toward the guards.

“It’s for her safety. This Joe, whoever he is, is still out there and you and your friend are his only link to me,” Enrico replied.

The reminder made her pause, but she still eyed him. Enrico signalled for the men to open the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, she followed him inside.

The sight of Marcy stopped her cold. She was sitting on the couch, a sling cradling her right arm, her face battered and bruised beyond recognition. Her once-vibrant brown eyes were swollen, rimmed with the deep purples and blacks of violence, her lips split and raw. Elnora’s heart plummeted.

This was all her fault.

“Oh look, it’s the Italian scum of the earth,” Marcy hissed through gritted teeth, shifting slightly on the couch. The movement looked like it sent a wave of pain through her body, because she winced.

“Hello to you too,” Enrico grumbled in irritation. He cast a quick, unreadable glance at Elnora before muttering, “I’ll be outside,” and slipping out of the room, leaving Elnora standing there, frozen in place.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. All she could do was stare at Marcy, the woman who had once been her closest friend, now a bruised and battered shell. The sight of her in that floral dress, which couldn’t hide the extent of her injuries on her alabaster skin, made Elnora’s chest tighten with guilt and helplessness. But it was Marcy’s icy, cutting glare that hurt the most.

“Just FYI, I’m royally pissed at you, El,” Marcy said, her voice strained and low, each word seemingly dragged from her in agony. “But I’ll circle back to that.” She paused to catch her breath, the effort clearly costing her. “Joe and I found the perfect guy for you, but you stood him up so you could get back with Ric? Did you forget how he just left you, or have you lost your mind?”

The absurdity of everything bubbled up inside Elnora, and before she could stop herself, a bitter laugh escaped her lips. Marcy’s eyes flared with fury, a silent warning that pulled Elnora back from the brink of hysteria.

“Mace, I’m not back with Ric,” she said, trying to rein in her emotions.

“Then why is he here? And what did I ever do to the both of you, El? Did I really deserve to be tortured like this?”

Marcy’s voice cracked with pain, and she doubled over, coughing harshly. Elnora took a tentative step forward, her gaze falling to the bandage wrapped tightly around Marcy’s left thigh. The sight sent a sharp stab of pain through her own head, a throbbing pulse that seemed to echo Marcy’s suffering.

“What did they…” Elnora’s voice trailed off as she sank onto the couch beside Marcy, burying her face in her hands. “Mace—”

“No,” Marcy snapped, her voice hardening. “Only my friends get to call me that. It’s Marcy to you. I can’t stand to look at you right now, just go.”

“I didn’t do this, Marcy. I would never—”

“They wanted to know why I set you up! Who else could possibly have done this?” Marcy’s eyes bore into Elnora’s, the accusation in them cutting deeper than any physical wound.

Elnora felt her breath catch in her throat. She had never imagined it would come to this, that the person who had once meant so much to her could be sitting here, broken and blaming her for it. But as much as she wanted to defend herself, to tell Marcy the truth, she knew it wouldn’t matter. The damage had already been done, and there was no going back.

As Marcy coughed again, Elnora reached for the glass of water on the table and offered it to her, but Marcy shot her a cold glare before turning her back, rejecting even that small gesture. It was clear Marcy had no idea about Joe or the Priest, and Elnora desperately wanted to keep it that way, to protect her from the full horror of the situation.

“Mace… cy,” Elnora started, her voice strained, “I’m so sorry things went wrong, starting with that date. I’m sorry that everything spiralled out of control and that you got caught up in it. But… I would never hurt you.”

“The blind date?” Marcy’s eyebrow arched septically. “You’ve not exactly bothered to explain what happened since then. I’ve barely even seen you since. Since Jared called me complaining about being stood up, I haven’t been able to get a hold of you to know what happened.”

“I ended up at the wrong club and…” she hesitated, knowing that it wasn’t as simple as a wrong turn. Marcy had genuinely tried to set her up with Jared, but Joe had intercepted, sending her to the underground instead.

“And what?” Marcy’s tone was sharp, cutting through Elnora’s hesitation. “You expect me to believe that someone as brilliant as you couldn’t figure out how to get to a simple club? That’s a pathetic excuse, El.”

Elnora sighed, placing the glass back on the table. Marcy was right to be furious, but it didn’t make the accusations any easier to bear.

“Marcy, please,” she said softly, turning back to face her. “Set everything aside for a moment and just answer this— You’ve known me my entire adult life; would I ever lie to or hurt you?”

Marcy’s eyes blazed with fury as she spat out her response. “That’s very convenient for you, seeing as I’m the one with broken ribs and bones! Ugh! I would hit you right now if I could.”

“And you should when you can,” Elnora replied as she slid into the space beside her, ignoring the icy glare. “I’m so terribly sorry for all of this,” she murmured and she hoped Marcy saw her sincerity.

“Sorry won’t fix my face,” Marcy snapped, her voice trembling with pain and bitterness. “It won’t heal the trauma I’ve been through, or my broken bones!”

Elnora’s heart twisted at the sight of her friend’s suffering. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“Go away,” Marcy hissed, her voice raw with emotion. “I just want you to leave me alone and tell your thugs to let me go!”

Elnora stood up and began to pace around the room, her thoughts racing. They weren’t her thugs, but explaining the truth—that Joe was the real culprit—would only make things worse.

“I’m not leaving you, especially not like this,” she said, stopping in front of Marcy. “You can hate me all you want, but I’m not going.”

Marcy’s face twisted in anger. “I don’t even want to be here, so just let me go. Tell your goons to—”

“They’re not my goons,” Elnora interrupted, holding her hands against her chest as if to protect herself from the weight of the truth she was about to reveal. “They’re the mafia, Marcy. This is the Garden of Eden, which turns out to be their base of operations. I’m sorry you were dragged into this, and I regret that I’m responsible for your suffering, but I didn’t do this. I would never do something like this to you. This whole thing is a consequence of being with Ric. All I did was meet Enrico and… and fall in love. I had no idea he was involved in all of this.”

Marcy’s eyes narrowed, the fury in them undimmed by Elnora’s words. Tears streaked down Elnora’s cheeks, which she wiped away with an angry swipe, hating the vulnerability. Marcy’s gaze flickered with something between shock and bitterness as she swallowed hard.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever admitted to loving that asshole,” Marcy said.

Elnora inhaled deeply and lowered herself to sit on the couch beside Marcy.

“The mafia?” Marcy’s voice trembled as she tried to process it all. “Is this mess because of something that scumbag did? Are we just caught in the ripple of his foolishness?”

Elnora’s shoulders sagged as she finally admitted, “I never really understood why you disliked him.”

“Seriously? It baffles me that you still don’t see that Ric is an entitled and selfish prick. What, was the sex that good?” Marcy’s words were sharp.

“Not this again.” Elnora sighed, her patience frayed.

“Prude,” Marcy scoffed, though the bite in her voice softened as she saw the weak smile tugging at Elnora’s lips.

Elnora watched Marcy lean back against the sofa, her body clearly aching from the bruises that marred her skin. A pang of guilt twisted in Elnora’s gut; her own joints seemed to ache in sympathy.

“As far as I can tell, something went wrong with your date, and now Ric, who’s apparently mafia, thought I set you up because I arranged it,” Marcy said trying to understand things against the scowl of real confusion. “I’ll get to how he wormed his way back into your life, but…”

Her voice trailed off, and Elnora could see the question forming in her eyes before it was spoken. The realization hit Elnora like a cold slap, and she resented the fact that she had ever doubted her friend.

“When the mafia took you, did you think it was me?” Marcy didn’t look at her, but the accusation in her tone was clear.

“It’s not… everything at the time pointed to you being involved. He set you up so perfectly that even I believed it.”

“So you knew Ric was coming after me?” Marcy asked.

Elnora shook her head vehemently, perching on the edge of the table in front of her friend. “I didn’t know they had you until five minutes ago. Marcy, I swear, I would never let him or anyone hurt you.”

Marcy’s eyes narrowed. “Then tell me who set us up?”

Elnora exhaled slowly, she had no idea how she would handle knowing that Joe was not who he said he was. “It’s not pretty.”

“Tell me,” Marcy demanded, her tone sharp and unforgiving.

Elnora’s gaze flickered to Marcy’s swollen eye and the way she winced with every breath. Her fury deepened, coiling tighter around her heart. She knew why Mason had done this, why he’d taken matters into his own hands, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. His enforcers had crossed a line, and now Marcy was paying the price for it.

A part of her wanted to protect Marcy from the truth, to shield her from the twisted reality that had wrapped around them both. But another part knew that the truth was the only way forward, no matter how much it hurt. Mason should have come to her, should have trusted her to handle this, but he’d chosen his usual brutal methods instead. And now, someone was going to pay for it.