Chapter 50

Bria’s pov

I was a terrible, terrible person. A shitty individual, I was no different from Hitler and every other vile human to ever exist. Enzo sat inches away from me, his face permanently concentrated on the window, appearing indifferent and impassive.

But I knew, I'd seen it, the hurt that had cut through his gaze like a butcher's knife before refracting into my heart, slicing it into halves.