I scream over and over and over. Too fast! The bike is too fast!
We weave through traffic like the devil himself is chasing us. Maybe he is.
I bury my face between Enzo's shoulder blades and hold on tighter. The city blurs around us. Cold wind cuts through the jacket, through the torn dress. My hair whips behind me. The engine vibrates through my whole body.
All I can do is hold on. Press myself against Enzo's back and trust that he knows where he's going. Trust that he won't let me fall.
Time loses meaning. Minutes. Hours. I don't know. Just the cold and the speed and the solid warmth of Enzo in front of me.
Finally, the bike slows. We're not in the city anymore. Trees surround us now. Darkness. The road narrows to barely more than a path.
And then I see it.
The cabin.
My whole body goes cold.
No. Not here. Anywhere but here.
Enzo kills the engine and the sudden silence is deafening.
I climb off the bike on shaking legs, pull the helmet off and stare at the small cabin nestled in the woods. The place I vowedneverto return to.
Four years ago, I stood on that porch and told Enzo Bianchi I loved him. Eighteen years old and stupid enough to think he might love me back. He told me I was a kid. That I didn't know what I wanted. That he was Matteo's Underboss and I was the princess and some lines you don't cross.
Then he walked away and I didn't see him again for six months.
"You've got to be kidding me." My voice comes out flat. Dead. "Here? Of all places?"
He climbs off the bike, pulling out his phone. "It was the first place I thought of."
"Why?" I snap. "Why this place?"
He looks up from his phone. The moonlight catches his face, makes his expression unreadable. "Because I come here. A lot."
That stops me cold. "What?"
"When I need to think. When I need to..." He trails off. Looks away. "I come here. It calms me."
To the place where I told you I loved you. You come here.
I don't know what to do with that information. Don't know how to process it without falling apart.
"So, what now?" I ask instead, wrapping his jacket tighter around myself. "We just wait here?"
Enzo looks back down at his phone. Scrolls through messages. His jaw tightens.
"What?" I move closer. "What is it?"
He looks up at me. "Matteo says we need to stay here. Together. For a while."
"How long is a while?"
"However long it takes for them to secure the situation." He shoves his phone in his pocket. "Could be days."
Days. Alone. In this cabin. With Enzo. And my torn dress.
The universe is laughing at me. It has to be.
