‘No.’ The word had seismic impact on the man who should have known better.
‘What do you mean, no? You’re not coming?’
‘Not coming and not paying for it either.’
Luca bit out an angry laugh. ‘I don’t know what you’re—’
Enzo stood from his chair, caught Jean-Pierre’s eye and thrust a few notes under his glass, and held his hand out for Erin. He had to get them out of here, before his father made more of a scene.
‘What kind of son—’
Enzo grabbed the lapel of his father’s jacket in his fist and dragged him close. ‘What kind offather,’ he growled into Luca’s ear. ‘What kind of...’
Fury cut into his words, and his control, until Erin pushed between him and his father, her cool hands seeking him out and giving him a moment’s respite.
She looked up at him, her hands coming to frame his face, to lock her eyes with his.
‘Let’s go,’ was all she said, and he clung to her as they left the café.
The reporters descended the moment that they hit the street, presumably alerted by Luca himself. They crowded around them even as Enzo typed out a message to the boat to send security.
‘Rossetti!’ someone yelled.
‘Do not speak to them,’ Enzo commanded, low and dark. ‘Do not rise to whatever antagonism they taunt you with. If you can smile, smile, if not, don’t, but do not engage with them, because it will only make things worse, okay?’ he said, staring at her as if he could force the knowledge of what he was saying into her psychically.
‘Okay,’ she said, and he felt the shiver run through her body into his.
‘Enzo, how do you feel about the engagement?’
‘What do you think of the age difference?’
‘What did your mother say?’
The shouts came thick and fast as he tried to force himself and Erin out of the circle that had formed around them. She put a hand on his forearm, as if to let him know that it was okay. But it wasn’t. None of this was okay. The simple flex of her fingers let him know that she was with him, whatever he needed. And it felt...strange. Usually he was on his own, facing down the press. But to have someone there for him, not for the cameras, not for the press... But that was all a lie, wasn’t it, because she was getting something from him. He just didn’t know what it was.
A dark car came speeding towards them and came to a sudden halt, and Enzo could just make out Frederick coming out of the driver’s side to open the back doors for them.
He pulled Erin behind him towards the car, but she dropped her clutch in the commotion and when she reached down to pick it up, he almost heard the audible gasp of shock from the crowd.
Her ring.
‘Are you engaged yourself, Enzo?’
‘Enzo Rossetti? Engaged?!’ came the cry as the press closed in on them, the weight and jostle accidentally, but no less for it, threatening.
Enzo bit back a curse. This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? The press interest at fever pitch, all the better to publicly punish those who came after him for their own interests? But they hadn’t found out as quickly as he’d liked, and now it just felt as if it were all going horribly wrong.
‘Who are you with, Enzo?’
‘Tell us her name!’
‘Are you engaged?!’
A thousand flash-bulbs blinded them both as he finally pushed through to the car and got Erin into the back. He slipped in beside her, closing the door, and told Frederick to floor it. But not before he heard the final shout of one last reporter.
‘Will there be a double Rossetti wedding?!’
The words echoed around the back of the car taking them the short distance between the bar and the marina, making Erin’s head spin.
