Enzo shepherds me inside like I’m royalty, guards flanking all around until we’re safely back in the penthouse.
I toe off my heels—the champagne-colored ones Noemi gave to me—and slip the tailored blazer from my shoulders.
Tension finally lifts from my muscles once I’m out of the uncomfortable attire and covered only in one of Enzo’s shirts. He bought me all sorts of clothing, but this iswhat I feel more comfortable in.
I find him in the living room, still dressed in his suit.
“Do you ever wear sweatpants?” I tease, leaning my hip on the doorframe.
His lips twitch. “You know I do.”
“When you’re not stressed about me dying?”
His eyes darken, mouth turning down. “Don’t joke about that.”
I wince. “Sorry.”
He opens his arms to me as I step into the room and I fall into him, reveling in the way his embrace soothes the deepest parts of my soul.
It’s always been like this.
It’s why I love him.
When we were kids, he was my safe place—my comfort. When I realized what I was feeling, what I’d always felt, I buried it. I couldn’t ruin what we had. I didn’t want to lose him.
Yet, I still did.
Somehow though, despite twenty years having passed since then, it’s like nothing has changed. We’re still Izzy and Enzo, the two of us against the world.
His lips meet my hairline, and I sigh into his chest.
“What happens now?” I mumble.
He tilts my chin; fingers gentle on my jaw. His eyes are soft but hold a fire to them. “Now, we get revenge.”
15
Never Be Mine
Papa says I’ve gotten taller. I wonder if I'll be as tall as you when you come back. —Izzy
Izzy
It’sbeenthreedayssince the conference and Enzo’s had his security doubled, worried that Lucas will retaliate. I don’t think he’s that brazen. He talks big words, makes idle threats, but that’s all they are. It’s not that he isn’t dangerous—I know first-hand that he is. But he’s also smart. He knows he can’t truly mess with the Russo’s.
“I’ve got to go out tonight,” Enzo tells me, and my heart sinks. I like living in a little bubble, pretending that we’re the only people in the entire world.
“Mafia business?” Itease.
He chuckles. “Afraid so.”
“Where are you going?”
He opens his mouth, as if to tell me, then clamps his jaw shut. “Will you tell me your secrets?”
I deflate. “No.”
He shakes his head. “Then I’ll keep mine. I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”
