“If you need anything, give me a call.” He shoves a phone into my grasp.
It’s password protected, and I look at him expectantly. He just raises a playful eyebrow.
A smile tugs at my lips as I type in 051091. My birthday.
Wrong password.
I look up at him momentarily, brow furrowed. Then I realize.
I switch the order. 100591.
It unlocks.
Damn American dates system. Despite our school being an international one, following the US curriculum, that was one thing I never understood. But of course, Enzo would have adapted after living here for so long.
Shaking my head at him, I wrap my arms around his waist and murmur a ‘thank you’ into his chest before pushing him into the elevator.
“Make yourself at home, Iz. Nothing is off-limits to you.”
I nod gratefully as the doors shut.
Then I’m alone.
I spend the first few hours taking Enzo words to heart. He says that nothing is off-limits, so I riffle through his things. I’m not exactly looking for anything, I just feel like snooping.
Enzo may well have been my best friend growing up, and he’s taken me in now without question, but at the end of the day, I don’t really know him anymore. He’s not the same person as he was when he left me at fourteen.
Unfortunately, I find nothing of interest—just a lot of hidden guns. One of the doors is locked, which I can only assume is his office. I could pick the lock, but I’m not that nosey.
After giving up my search I cover myself in a blanket on the sofa, download my kindle app, and settle in for a night of reading.
9
Don’t Lose Her
I miss being a kid with you… I have so many responsibilities now. —Always yours, Enzo
Enzo
Thelinetotheclub is already around the corner by the time I arrive, and it’s still an hour before opening.
I should have been here earlier, but I was too content just existing with Izzy. Hell, I should have been around for the past two weeks overseeing the renovations. But instead, I was watching Izzy, hoping like hell she would wake up and show me her gorgeous blue eyes.
The bouncers, already stationed outside, nod their heads in greeting before opening the door for me.
Inside, the place has transformed. I bought this club about ayear ago, and until now I haven’t done much with the interior. It was dated, and in serious need of modernization.
Now, it’s unrecognizable.
The sleek black walls, contrasting gold accents, the recessed lighting—it all gives the space a bold, upscale feel. The long, marble-topped bar stretches across the far wall, backlit with soft amber light that highlights the endless rows of top-shelf liquor.
Elevated VIP booths line the edges, enclosed by velvet ropes, their plush black seating offering a perfect view of the action below.
The bass hums low, even now, the sound system pulsing with an energy that promises a wild night ahead.
I take a slow walk through, running my fingers along the smooth surfaces, nodding to myself. It’s exactly what I envisioned—a place that breathes power, luxury, and the kind of exclusivity that makes people desperate to get inside.
And judging by the line outside, they already are.
