I followed him out of the car and toward an entrance where a man clad in a black suit stood guard. He jerked his chin up when he noticed Enzo, moving aside to allow us entry. It seemed these people had special entrances for everything.
We walked down a quiet hallway until reaching a small waiting room. Benny was pacing. Two women were seated, both crying, while a tall man stood behind one of the women, rubbing her shoulders.
Benny’s pacing halted when he noticed us.
Well, when he noticedme.
His gaze tore into me as if I were an unwanted virus that’d just contaminated the entire hospital.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked with fury in his eyes.
I was sure all his anger wasn’t supposed to be directed at me. I was just getting the brunt of someone else’s.
Since I didn’t have the answer and didn't want to piss this man off, I didn’t respond. The last thing I wanted to do was say I’d pretty much come uninvited.
His stare reminded me so much of Enzo.
I was labeling it the Marchetti stare. Cunning yet inviting, beckoning you into their darkness.
“She’d better not have a phone,” Benny told Enzo.
“I don’t,” I said hurriedly, finding my voice to give him the assurance.
He gave me a dirty look in response, like how dare I reply to his questionabout me.
“Benny,” Enzo warned, pulling me behind him.
My insides went fuzzy at the protectiveness in his tone.
“How’s he doing?” Enzo asked.
Benny waved him over. The guy behind the woman dropped his hands from her shoulders, following Enzo, and they huddled in a corner while speaking in low voices.
The girl whose shoulders he’d been rubbing looked over at me. “Hi. I’m Gigi. Enzo’s sister.”
I shyly waved at her, and my voice was raspy when I said, “Hi. I’m Blair.”
The older woman attempted to force a smile, but it almost seemed she was too weak to do so. “Hi, Blair. I’m Enzo’s mother, Natalia.” She motioned toward the chairs. “Have a seat. We’ll probably be here for a while.”
I walked over to them, taking a chair, leaving one between Natalia and me to give her space.
I was too nervous to ask them what had happened. It felt too invasive. My guess was that something had happened to Monster Marchetti.
As we sat there, I couldn’t help but take in the women. They shared so many features with Enzo.
Gigi was older, looking nearly the same age as Enzo’s mom. Her black hair was pulled into a messy ponytail.
Natalia’s dark hair was down in long, thick curls, the color so similar to Seraphina’s.
Both women were gorgeous—even as stressed as they looked at the moment with puffy eyes and swollen faces from their crying.
When my eyes traveled to Enzo, my gaze caught his. He gave me a subtle nod, and when the doors opened leading to the other side of the waiting room, the three men disappeared through them.
“Breaking news!”
The loud voice caused me to look up at the TV on the wall.
A reporter shouted into the microphone as she stood outside the White House. Breaking news text scrolled across the screen.
