He slept better with Seven curled around him, half draped across his chest like a possessive little heater.
The buzz of his phone across the end table jarred Enzo from sleep. He cracked one eye open, noting the light just starting to creep into the sky. It took longer than it should’ve to grab the phone and blindly swipe to answer.
“Someone better be dead,” he rasped, voice still thick with sleep.
“Wow. First, we hook your child bride up with a kickass system—in a day, no less. Now, we come to you with information that could crack this case wide open, and this is the welcome we get? Ungrateful.”
“Ansel…” Enzo growled, his tone a warning.
“Fine. Fine,” his brother chirped, way too chipper for—Enzo squinted at the screen—five-thirty in the goddamn morning. “What do you want us to do with all this information?”
“Bring it to me. Here.”
Silence stretched for a beat. “Now?” Elio whined somewhere in the background. “We’ve been up for twenty-four hours. And I have finals tomorrow.”
“Have you ever not gotten an A on an assignment since, like, kindergarten?”
Elio scoffed. “No. But that’s because our education system is a joke.”
“No, it’s because both of you are too smart for your own good. Come to the apartment. I’ll make you breakfast. You can tell us what you found.”
Enzo knew if he dangled food, they’d bite.
Still, Ansel asked, “What kind of food?”
Enzo rolled his eyes. “What kind do you want?”
“Pancakes,” one twin said as the other blurted out, “Waffles.”
“I thought twins were supposed to be in sync with each other,” Enzo said with a laugh.
Ansel scoffed. “Please, we’re fraternal twins.”
“I’m pretty sure Ansel tried to choke me out with my own umbilical cord when we were in there. The womb is surprisingly dog-eat-dog,” Elio added, now closer to the mic.
Enzo snorted. “You’re both idiots. The only person whose life was in danger was Ma’s. She had a geriatric pregnancy.”
“She’d slit your throat with a butter knife if she heard you call her that,” Ansel warned.
“It’s just a medical term, not a condemnation,” Enzo muttered. “It’s not my fault she wanted to spend her entire life pregnant. The doctor told her one more kid and he was installing a zipper where her C-section scar was. That finally made her come to her senses.”
“She couldn’t have been that bad,” Elio defended. “She’s the calmest person I know. Zen, even… unless you piss her off.”
“Yeah? Tell that to Lucky. He’s still got the scar her ring left the day she slapped him.”
“He probably deserved it. Mama doesn’t go after people without a reason. Besides, he was an adult. Well, as adult as Lucky ever is.”
Ansel wasn’t wrong. Luckyhaddeserved it.
“Just get here. I need to wake up Seven.”
“Ugh, fine. But you’re explaining to Mom why we skipped morning classes,” Elio grumbled. “Better yet, have Seven tell her. She likes him.”
“Are you implying she doesn’t like me?”
“Not as much as she likes Seven,” Ansel said. “She doesn’t like anyone as much as him. She hand-picked him for you. Your very own arranged marriage.”
“Laugh it up, baby brother. If it worked for me, she’s gonna think she can do it to all of you.”
