"I'm fucking insane, Chloe. The thought of another man wanting you makes me want to rip him apart piece by piece."
I stared at him in disbelief, fury churning in my gut. After everything, how dare he say this? Like he actually gave a damn about me. Like he wasn't the one who vanished for a whole week and got engaged to someone else.
I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.
The sound cracked loud. Enzo's head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming on his cheekbone.
He slowly turned his head back, tongue pressing against the inside of his struck cheek, eyes boring into mine.
"You have a fiancée." My voice shook, but I forced myself to shout. "You have a fiancée named Valentina Lombardi, and you're about to marry her. What gives you the right to mess with me? You disappeared for a week—not a single word—what gives you the right to show up now? What gives you the right to threaten my friends? What the fuck gives you the right to interfere in my life?"
"You done?"
"No!" My eyes were starting to sting. Shit. I didn't want to cry in front of him. Not now.
"What am I to you? You come find me when you're bored, disappear when you're busy. You fuck me in that booth and say, 'That's all for today,' and walk away. Do you think I'm your toy? Take me out when you want to play, throw me back in the box when you're done?"
"No."
"Then what the hell do you want! Enzo Falcone, what the fuck do you want from me!" I was practically screaming, falling apart.
"I want you." His hand slid down from my hair, thumb brushing my cheek. I didn't know when I'd started crying, but his thumb came away wet.
"Valentina is an arrangement. There's nothing between us—it's business. The woman I love is you. Just like you love me." Enzo's dark eyes locked onto mine, chest heaving with raw emotion.
"Don't flatter yourself." I shoved at his chest again. This time, I managed to create some space. I immediately stepped back, roughly wiping away those damned tears with the back of my hand. "I'm not interested in someone else's husband. Get out of my apartment."
"That's not true, Chloe." Enzo stepped forward, closing the distance I'd just created. "You know that's not true."
"I told you to leave." I turned my head, refusing to look at him.
"I can't leave. Not when you're crying. Baby, if you really didn't care about me, why are you crying?"
God, why wouldn't he just let me go? Why did he have to cruelly strip away the last shred of my dignity?
That tiny bit of pride was all I had left.
"You don't need to know why I'm crying! You just need to worry about your fiancée!" My voice cracked. "I'm just your plaything, disposable, aren't I?"
I was shaking as I said it, too many emotions crowding my chest with nowhere to go. I broke free from his hold, sniffed, and opened the door. "Please leave my home!"
Enzo's expression was hard to read in the dim light. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.
But he still didn't move. I took a breath, about to repeat myself more firmly.
"Please just—mmph!"
Enzo grabbed my chin and kissed me. Through the chaos, I heard the door slam shut again.
I tried to push him away. Didn't work. He kissed me too hard, teeth catching my lower lip until I gasped in pain. But then his tongue pushed inside, swallowing my protest and my breath.
His arms locked me against him—nothing like Liam's gentle, careful embrace. This was suffocating in its dominance.
I didn't want to respond. I shouldn't respond. But my body completely ignored my brain.
I kissed him back hard.
With all the hurt, longing, and fear I had bottled up over the past week, I let the tears continue streaming down my face, mingling with our lips and breath in a hot, messy tangle.
