Enzo glanced at Jericho and Freckles, who were now also on their feet. “Seven can’t go back to their place. It’s bound to be swarmed with press. I’ll take him home with me for a few weeks or however long it takes to get this mess sorted. Do you think you can grab his personal belongings and have them sent here?”
He pulled out a piece of paper with what Seven assumed was his address on it. Jericho turned to look at Seven. “Do you want to stay with Enzo? You know you’re welcome to stay with us.”
Enzo’s gaze jerked to Seven’s, like it hadn’t even occurred to him that Seven wouldn’t want to stay with him. “You can stay with Neith at my mom’s if that’s what you want. I just thought…” He trailed off, his cheeks flushing.
It hadn’t really occurred to Seven to stay anywhere else either. Still, he looked at Enzo. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Enzo’s gaze softened. “I wouldn’t have offered if I minded. Besides, your mom already said you could stay with me.”
Seven heard the sharp laugh before he realized it was his own. He really felt two seconds away from losing it. “You asked my mom for permission?”
Enzo’s brows creased. “Of course, I did. My mother would have slapped me if I didn’t at least check with your mother before I had her son living in sin.”
Seven huffed. “You’re ridiculous.”
Despite his words, Seven melted into Enzo’s chest, pressing his face into his sweater. The one Seven had asked him to wear. The one he’d worn without question just because he’d asked.
Jericho sounded worn out as he said, “There’s a car waiting for you out back. They’ll take you home. I’ll arrange for someone to transport your car back to your place so you can avoid the press. You have a private garage in your building, right?”
“Yeah. Even if they somehow make us out in this car, security won’t let them near us.” Enzo took Seven by the shoulders and spun him towards Jericho. “Can you keep an eye on him for a minute so I can go pay the court cashier?”
Jericho nodded, pulling Seven in. “Yeah, no problem.”
“Did he just say he was gonna go pay the court?” Seven mumbled against Jericho’s chest, inhaling the soothing scent of motor oil and brake dust.
He was so exhausted. He just wanted to lie down and sleep forever.
“Yeah, kid.”
Seven stepped back to meet Jericho’s gaze. “Where did my mom get fifty thousand dollars?”
Jericho and Freckles exchanged a long look before Jericho carefully said, “I’m pretty sure it’s Conti money.”
Seven shook his head. “That can’t be right. Who just has fifty thousand dollars at their disposal? Other than Mulvaneys, I mean.”
“The Contis are loaded,” Freckles said. “Don’t let Francesca’s ‘Mama’ facade fool you. That woman is ruthless when it comes to business and revenge. There’s a reason the cops are always trying to bring her family up on RICO charges. But she’s too slippery. They can’t prove a thing.”
“And she’s just going to give us fifty thousand dollars and expect nothing in return?” Seven asked.
“I said the Contis were rich, not that Francesca paid Neith’s bail,” Freckles hedged, once more looking at Jericho.
“I don’t understand?” Seven said, shaking his head.
Jericho gave him a strange look. “I don’t think it’s Francesca who paid your mom’s bail. I’m pretty sure it was Enzo.”
“No…” Seven said.
That couldn’t be true.
“Don’t look so stressed, kid,” Jericho murmured. “I doubt Enzo’s dipping into his 401k for this.”
“Yeah,” Freckles agreed. “That penthouse he lives in cost him almost four million dollars to renovate. And that’s on top of the cost to purchase and demo the entire top two floors of the building.”
Jericho gave his husband an amused look. “How do you know that?”
Freckles shrugged. “It was inArchitectural Digest.Asa sent it to me because he knew I looked at one of the penthouses there before I settled on the one we live in now.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Asa,” Jericho muttered.
