Page 114 of Enzo

“You almost died,” I choke out, struggling to understand why she’s so calm.

“I’m fine.” She moves away, as if I’m the one who’s overreacting, but she’s pale, and her hands aren’t steady. She’s insisting she’s fine, but I can see that she’s not.

“You saved me, Enzo. I’m fine. We’re fine. But it was my fault. I’m sorry. I overdid it, pretending we were together. The waitress must have noticed it then. Did you see how she changed? She was happy and smiling at first, then I did that silly pretend thing, and when she returned she didn’t look too happy. I’m sure she recognized us. She might have tipped the media.”

That silly pretend thing.

I hear her words, but the only thing that imprints in my mind are those four words.

And she’s blaming herself.

I pull my cell phone out, thoughts churning in my head. A plan of action. What we do next. Molly cannot stay in New York. It’s too dangerous.

She walks back to me, her eyes filling with worry. It’s the sweetest thing. She’s the one who almost got hit by a taxi, and yet she’s concerned about me.

“You can’t stay here,” I say. “Things have changed. I said we’d go back to our regular lives tomorrow, because everything seemed to have quietened down, but that’s no longer the case.”

She tilts her head.

“We have to go into hiding again, lay low for a while.” I’m running through the possibilities in my mind. Where to go. How I can keep her safe.

“I have to go back to school next week,” she reminds me.

“Then we’ll go back to Chicago.”

“We?” I hear the dread in her voice.

“I’m going with you.” I have to keep an eye on her, make sure nothing bad happens to her, like it almost did today.

“But, Enzo—” She starts to protest. “It’s not necessary.” She gives a hollow laugh. “I’ll go back to school. Business as usual. The media frenzy won’t follow me there.”

She has no idea how these people operate. They’ll go wherever they can find a story, and right now the Knights are a hot topic.

Molly can’t convince me that this will blow over, or that she’ll be fine, because I know things never work out as planned. I call Rio. He picks up on the first ring.

“You okay?” he asks.

My insides sink. “You know?” The news has spread lightning fast.

“I’m here with Matteo. He got an alert. Someone posted footage of what happened outside the restaurant. There are already photos of you and Molly everywhere.”

I clench down on my teeth.

Of course there are.

“I told you to hide. Hide. In the penthouse. What were you thinking?” Rio cries.

He’s mad. I can just see his face, but I don’t blame him. “Long story.”

“You need to–”

“I need a favor. “I cut him off; not something I ever do, but knowing Rio, he’s probably about to tell me what to do, and I already know what I’m going to do.

“We can’t stay here. I need the jet. Can you organize it for me?”

“The jet?” Rio asks. “Where are you going? Bermuda?”

“Chicago.”