“No,” Enzo admits. “I haven’t asked. Eva doesn’t share a lot with us about her dating life. I think she thinks we’re overprotective or something.”
I choke out a laugh. “Does she now? I can’t imagine why she thinks that.”
“No fucking clue,” Hudson says innocently.
They both shrug.
I smile faintly. “Last I heard, they were planning a date.”
They both seem surprised by that revelation.
Enzo’s eyebrows rise and his grin turns sharp. “Interesting.”
The conversation drifts into everyone’s activities for the day and our thoughts on the budding relationships around us.
While we tidy after our meal, Enzo asks quietly, “What happens after Troy?”
The question lands heavier than expected, but I know what I want to do. “I want to quit Cramden’s office,” I say without hesitation. “I need a break from all of it.”
“Good,” Hudson says immediately.
Enzo agrees.
“You do?” Their encouragement surprises me.
“With Troy and McCarter gone, DC is going to be a mess. We should all take a break,” Enzo says, which only surprises me more.
“The remaining marks from Maribel aren’t in DC, necessarily—there are celebrities, corporate types, foreign dignitaries—but I don’t think working for a senator will be necessary after Troy is gone.”
“I think you’re right,” Enzo says. “And if there are more politicians to take down, any one of us can gain access. You don’t have to keep burning the candle at both ends.”
Hudson exhales. “I want out of the Bureau.”
I blink. “Hudson?—”
Enzo shifts toward him. “Really?”
“I hate the double life. I hate the people, the corruption. I know it helps you and Eva,” he says, looking at Enzo, “and I’ll stay?—”
Enzo’s jaw tightens. “No. Neither of you should have to play these roles anymore.Fuck, I don’t even think I want to keep running the family business, either. Not like this. I don’t want to launder money for these sick fucking men. They are all even worse than I knew. I won’t be complacent in the trafficking and abuse of anyone.”
A heavy silence settles between us. But maybe it’s hopeful, too?
“What would we do if we weren’t doing this?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
Enzo rubs his jaw. “Hm. Not sure I’ve ever given it enough thought, to be honest.”
“What if we weren’t surrounded by all this darkness? What if our lives weren’t mapped out for us before we were born? What do you think you would have done with it?” I ask.
He takes a moment to answer, but eventually says, “Art.”
I quirk a brow.
Enzo chuckles. “I don’t have a single artistic skill. I’ve never painted or anything like that, but as a kid, I loved to doodle the world around me. I would have liked to learn more about art.”
“Tall, dark, broody artist. I like it,” I say rubbing his arm, smiling at him.
“Yeah, that’s fucking hot,” Hudson adds.
