Chapter 1
Lexie’sstomachtwistedpainfullyas her gaze landed on the predator’s grin—a cruel slash of teeth that promised something far worse than mere pain.
Her gut screamed a warning she couldn’t ignore.Enzo Santorini was lounging against her car like a snake basking in the sun.His hand rose, his thick fingers wiggling in the air in a mockery of a wave, the gesture as grotesque as the man himself.
Lexie didn’t need the FBI’s investigative files to know what Enzo was capable of—though they probably painted a damning enough picture of murder and violence.She knew.She could feel it in her bones, the primal certainty that the man leaning on her car wasn’t just dangerous.He was rotten to the core.
“Hello, Enzo,” Lexie greeted, hitching her shoulder bag a little higher, trying to balance the weight of her students’ essays alongside her usual collection of necessities.She forced a tight smile, her voice carefully neutral.“To what do I owe the honor?”
Her sarcasm was barely veiled, and judging by the way Enzo’s beady eyes narrowed, he hadn’t missed it.Lexie stiffened.The last time she’d crossed paths with Enzo, she’d dismissed him as just another dim-witted thug with a penchant for tacky suits and crude threats.But there was something different about him now—a sharper edge beneath the sleazy grin.
He wasn’t as stupid as she’d assumed, and that realization sent a chill through her.His narrowed eyes weren’t just registering her tone; they were calculating, dissecting.Enzo might not be book smart, but he was observant, and that made him infinitely more dangerous.
The man grinned.“I’d like to take you to a big, fancy party tonight,” Enzo declared, puffing out his chest like a rooster in his ill-fitting suit.His leisure jacket strained against his slight paunch, and the gold chain peeking from beneath his shirt gleamed in the overcast light.His tone dripped with self-importance, as though the mere act of inviting her was a prize she should treasure.
Lexie fought the urge to gag, keeping her face blank despite the nausea crawling up her throat.A cold breeze swept down the cracked sidewalk, swirling dry, brittle leaves around their feet.Behind her, the school’s worn brick façade stood tired but resolute, much like the neighborhood around it—fading, yet stubbornly clinging to small glimmers of hope.A few doors down, a neighbor’s window box held defiant bursts of chrysanthemums, their bright yellows and oranges stark against the gray afternoon.
“That’s so sweet of you,” Lexie replied, her voice syrupy with false politeness as she clutched the strap of her bag a little tighter.“But I have papers to grade.”
She tilted her chin, trying to inject authority into her posture, even as her pulse thudded uncomfortably in her ears.Enzo’s grin widened, exposing that cursed gold tooth, and his eyes flitted to her bag.
“If you’ll move out of the way, I need to head home.”
“You’re really gonna blow off a fancy night with me—and a chance to see your old flame—just to grade a stack of scribbles?”he scoffed, his smirk tilting into something darker.He slid his hands into his pants pockets, drumming his fingers against the fabric in an irritatingly casual rhythm.
Lexie froze.
The wordsold flamelanded like a sucker punch, tightening her chest until breathing felt like work.Was he talking about Max?No.Surely even Enzo wouldn’t be so reckless, so stupid, as to shove her into Max Diatras’s orbit again.
But the thought alone scraped something raw inside her.
It had been almost a year, yet she could still hear Max’s voice, still feel the warmth of his hand at her back, the weight of his gaze that had made her both safe and dangerously exposed.The memory ached like a bruise.And beneath that ache was a spike of panic—because she knew what Max would look like if she showed up on another man’s arm.And it wouldn’t be good!
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the schoolyard behind Enzo.The playground equipment, chipped and rusting, stood still in the brisk air.A lone child on a bicycle pedaled lazily down the street, his jacket too thin for the season.
“Please don’t say things like that about my students’ efforts.”Her voice was tight, clipped—anchoring her in something that wasn’t him, wasn’tMax.
Enzo shifted his weight, the rubber soles of his cheap shoes scuffing against the sidewalk.“I mean, come on, babe,” he continued, his voice dipping into a sleazy croon.“You think those little sh—uh, kids, care what grade they get?They probably can’t even read half the stuff they wrote.”
Lexie’s jaw clenched, a wave of anger surging beneath her skin.She squared her shoulders, the corners of her mouth tightening into a thin, controlled line.“My students,” she began, her voice sharp enough to cut, “worked hard on these essays.Their efforts deserve my full attention.So, no.I’m not interested in a party.”
She shifted her bag again and tried to step around him, her keys jingling faintly in her pocket.The sound felt like a lifeline—a reminder that she could still put distance between herself and Enzo.
But as she took a step toward the curb, Enzo leaned forward, blocking her path with the faintest twitch of his shoulder.
His grin spread again, that gold tooth catching the dim afternoon light like a taunt.He shook his head slowly, the way someone might scold a stubborn child.“Lexie, Lexie,” he crooned, his voice dripping with condescension.“It’s Friday night!You got all weekend to grade those little brats’ papers.You’re coming with me, and I’m gonna show you what areallyfun night is.”
Lexie’s grip on her bag strap tightened, her nails digging into the worn leather.She didn’t trust herself to speak immediately, worried that the sharp words bubbling in her throat would betray how much he was getting under her skin.Instead, she shifted her weight, the jingling of her keys providing a small comfort.She edged toward the driver’s side door, her movements slow and deliberate.
“Another time, perhaps,” she said as politely as possible, hoping to end the conversation before her simmering anger at his obnoxious assumptions boiled over.
But Enzo wasn’t done.“Aw, come on, baby!”His voice turned wheedling, an oily attempt at charm that made her skin crawl.He spread his arms in mock appeal, his jacket stretching awkwardly across his scrawny chest.“Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?”
Lexie froze mid-step, her revulsion cresting into pure fury.She forced her expression to remain blank, though her voice wavered slightly as she replied, “Sorry, Enzo, but I’m not interested.”
Enzo clicked his tongue and took a step closer.His cologne—cheap and overpowering—mixed unpleasantly with the faint scent of garbage from a nearby dumpster.
“Notinterested?”he echoed, his tone disbelieving, as if the very idea was beyond comprehension.“You ain’t gonna turn me down!Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re missing.”He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially.“I’m not just some guy, you know.I’m the real deal.A soldier.A protector.You need someone like me around in a neighborhood like this.”He gestured vaguely at the cracked sidewalks, the graffiti-tagged fences, and the rusty chain-link around the schoolyard.“This ain’t exactly Mayberry, babe.Bad things can happen here.”
