ENZO’S POV
THREE MONTHS AGO It’s been two weeks since I found out that one of my best men was selling out information about our shipment and since then, I had him locked away at the warehouse, pressing him for information, but he seems to not give up with his lies. Holding the finger clipper close to his hands, and looking straight into his eyes. “This is your last chance, Paulo. I currently have five missing shipments, all under your watch, who have you been betraying me with, huh. Who have you been selling my information to?” “I promise Il Falco, I do not know anything about your missing shipments. I promise.” Already fed up with his lies, I chipped off his thumb, sharp and unforgiving, the sound of his scream echoed into the silent space. His screams didn’t last long as I collected my gun, the cold metal pressing into my palm. The gun didn’t make a sound. Just a soft click, a muted thud, and then silence as I watched the dark pool of blood trail from his skull while light left his eye. Zeno’s voice cut through the air, gruff and sharp. “We need to move” I slipped the gun back inside my coat as I turned to look at the rest of my men. “This is what happens to anyone who chooses to betray me, now, we’re done here, and get Ricco to clean this up.” I could hear their shocked and silent whispers as Zeno and I exited the building, but my men already know the drill when it comes to lies and betrayals, they all know how much I hate being lied to, so using Paulo should serve as an example to anyone thinking of running me down. The car ride back home is silent. Zeno is behind the wheel, the engine roaring like a beast under his control. I leaned back against the seat, trying to ignore the heavy throbbing noise in my head. It’s too quiet. “Your silence is louder than usual,” Zeno finally says, breaking the erring silence. I glance at him from the corner of my eyes, holding tight on the wheel as his face is lit only by the dim light from the streetlights outside “I’m listening,” I mutter, my voice low and tired, barely more than a breath. Zeno heavily sighs out through his nose, too heavy. “Lorenzo Romano called.” The name stops me cold. My hand twitches on the armrest. “Cazzo!, what does that pezzo di merda want?” I say, my voice low and controlled. Zeno doesn’t answer right away. Running his thoughts through his mind, taking his time to calculate the words he was about to let out of his mouth. “He offered…” His voice falters for a moment like he’s not sure how to say it. “He said he can’t pay in cash... he’ll pay in blood.” I twist in my seat to look at him now, my pulse picking up with speed. “Whose blood?” Zeno’s gaze flicks to me, the corners of his lips tight. “His daughter.” A strange silence falls over the car. The air feels too thick to breathe, the type of tension that tightens your chest and leaves you struggling to fill your lungs. My hands flex at my sides, and for a second, I wonder if he’s joking. But I know better. Zeno doesn’t joke. I turn my gaze to the window, trying to steady the tremor in my fingers. His daughter. I keep repeating the words in my mind, but they don’t make sense. Blood. Lorenzo’s daughter. The weight of it sinks in, but I can’t quite place why it feels so wrong. “She’s untouched. Educated. Obedient,” Zeno continues, his voice flat, emotionless. My lips curled. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with his daughter?” “Marry her to Matteo,” Zeno says, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. I blink and let out a harsh laugh. The sound fills the car cutting through the heavy silence between us. “Is he out of his fucking mind?” I shake my head, almost disbelieving. “I don’t marry a child of a liar into my family, Zeno. You know that.” Zeno’s face doesn’t shift, but his eyes narrow. “He said it’s tradition. A piece offering for his inconvenience. An alliance.” I clench my jaw, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. “Don’t be stupid Zeno, it’s manipulation. He wants to sit at the table.” Zeno leans back in his seat, the car swerving slightly as he takes a sharp corner. “And he’s willing to give up blood to get it.” I can feel the heat rise to my chest. The more I think about it, the more I hate it. The idea of Lorenzo thinking he can just throw himself into my house by using his daughter as a fucking pawn, makes my skin crawl. “You don’t have to say yes,” he adds, his voice carefully controlled. “I told him it wasn’t likely. It’s your decision to make.” “Not likely?” My voice spikes, the anger seeping through, raw and jagged. “You should have told him to go fuck himself.” Zeno is quiet for a moment, and that silence gnaws at me, more unsettling than his words. When he finally speaks, his tone is clipped. “I didn’t say yes, leaving the answers up to you, but there are benefits Enzo.” My cheats tighten. “Stop keeping me hanging, spit it out,” I growl, fury boiling up inside me. Zeno’s voice lowered, and I could feel the weight of his next words hanging in the air. “Romano pushed harder. He called in favors. Had a priest draft out a contract on standby. Said if we agree, he’d give up his ports on the East Coast. And you know how much we need the east Enzo.” I blink, the words finally settling in. His ports. The ports on the East Coast are gold. I’ve been after them for years, fighting for a stake in the trade route. Lorenzo Romano sure knows how to have his way. My fingers flex on my lap, my thoughts splintering. “I don't like this,” I muttered, more to myself than Enzo. “I didn’t say you should like it. All I’m saying is for you to think about it. It might be a smart move for our business.” We pull into the garage, the car rumbling as the doors slide shut behind us with a deafening clang. Zeno cuts the engine, and the sudden silence feels like a relief. He hands me a file before I can get out of the car. “Just look at her.” I shoot him a glare, but I take the file. As I flip it open, an up close photo inside is all it takes. Just one picture slows time. She has long, dark hair that framed her face, but it is her eyes that got me, hazel, deep and unreadable. There is something hidden in them, something that held years of secret that did to be found. Pain maybe. And that soft smile she wears? Don't fool me. I remember those lips too well. It’s her. The woman. The one from two months ago. The one who I can’t seem to forget. The woman I couldn’t find because I was too caught up having my cock deep inside her sweet cunt, rather than asking what her name is. The woman who ran away from me before I could wake up. The woman who tasted like pure sin. Is Lorenzo Romano’s daughter. I feel the weight of the file pressing down on me, the paper crinkling beneath my fingers. My throat goes dry as the heat in my body turns to ice. This isn’t just a random girl, this is her. Cazzo! I must pay Lorenzo a visit to be sure she is the one.GIANNA The voice slithered down my spine before I could think of turning. “You like what you see?” My breath snagged. For a heartbeat, I prayed, thinking I’d imagined it. But no—heat was pressed into my back, unmistakable, suffocating. Why is he here? Of all places? Don’t be stupid, Gianna. This is his club. Of course, he’s here. Oh God—what if he heard me whisper his name? My lips still tingled with the memory. I squeezed my eyes shut, in a desperate plea, silently begging the universe to take it back. Slowly, I turned my head, like a prey caught in a hunter’s gaze. And there he was. Enzo Moretti. The man I couldn’t escape, no matter how many walls I built. It had been less than twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him, and still he looked devastatingly good. Dark suit molded to his broad shoulders, shirt undone at the throat, the edge of a tattoo crawling across his chest like a secret I once knew. His eyes carried shadows. Hungry shadows that dem
GIANNA I stood in front of the club, contemplating whether I should call an uber or just swallow my pride and find out what Enzo wanted. After the way he night’s events between us, I wasn’t expecting him to want to see my face. Lord knows how much I don’t want to be here. But here I was anyway. It took a lot of convincing from Aria before I got into the car he sent to pick me up. And besides, I had something important to talk to him about. So why not kill two birds with one stone? I sat at the bar, as instructed by one of the bodyguards stationed at the entrance of the club, while I waited for Enzo. “Hello, ma’am, what would you like?” The tattooed bartender with long blond hair brushing his shoulders asked. I don’t know if I’m meant to be drinking, especially here. But who cares, anyway? I gave him a small smile. “I’ll get a glass of martini, please.” “That’s a great choice.” He winked at me as he flipped his hair back. “Your drink will be ready in a bit.”
ENZO “Boom!” The sound of my gun echoed through the club's basement. The bastard who’d been helping Paulo thought confessing would save him. Thought telling me the truth meant mercy. He was wrong. I’d walked out of the club last night with the intention of letting him live, but after the night’s event, my hands needed blood. So I came back and handled it in the only way I knew how to. I’d made promises to myself the day Gianna walked through her father’s door. Promise I already doubted I could keep. And tonight, I almost crossed a line I swore I wouldn’t. But I won’t let myself become bait to the madness she stirs inside my head. I saw the way her gaze lingered on me. I’m not blind. Hunger burned in her eyes—hunger she tried and failed to hide. God help me, if I hadn’t scared her off, I might’ve given in. I might’ve shown her exactly what those thoughts could cost her. I can’t wrap my head around how much she gets under my skin. I left my house for two bloody week
GIANNA His grip on my cheeks grew warm as the thought of him claiming my lips was the only thing I could picture. Heat pooled low in my stomach just thinking about him, about the way his touch had once pulled something raw and reckless out of me I hadn’t even known existed. And God, I wanted more. I wanted him to remind me of everything my body had been missing for those years I denied myself something good. The grip on my face loosened, making the cool air of the night slap across my face. “Go to your room.” I licked my dry lips. “What?” “I said. Go. Into. Your. Room.” He strained out the words through clenched teeth, his voice rough with barely contained rage. I was lost. Confused even. Why is he chasing me away all of a sudden? Did he read every single thought that was going on in my head? “Gianna, I wouldn’t like it if I repeated myself for the third time.” He said, taking his hand through his hair as if it was taking him everything to be patient with
GIANNA I was glued to my spot, not knowing what to say or do. He looked at me so intensely that the air around us seemed to press in on me. My body betrayed me. I stepped forward, closing the space, until we stood face to face. He did nothing. Said nothing. All he did was hold my gaze, and the weight of it sent a shiver rolling through me. But I could feel the way his eyes keep screaming out words we’ve quietly promised ourselves not to spill out. His eyes weren’t just boring into mine, they stripped me, pulled me apart piece by piece until I was raw, restless and trembling. My pulse kicked up so hard it felt like my heart was about to spill out from its rib cage. My mind betrayed me, running wild with dangerous thoughts. I could see him lifting me with one easy motion, setting me on the kitchen island, his mouth calming down on mine before I could protest. I could see him dragging me close, sinking to his knees, and forcing me to beg for a release. I could e
GIANNA It’s been two weeks since that disastrous dinner, two weeks since I last saw Enzo. The night ended with sharp words between him and his son. Aria said not to worry, said he was just busy with work, but silence felt heavier than that. And for Matteo… I’m not even sure where we stand. Aria said he’s not in the right headspace and that he’ll eventually come around, but if I’m being honest, a small part of me has already begun to lose hope. Aria has been there for me, making sure whatever wounds I felt never cut deep enough to leave scars laced with unforgettable memories. We’ve become so close in the past few days, sharing late-night conversations over tea and trading quite a few childhood memories we’d never say out loud to anyone. We have two months and a week left until the wedding, and Enzo still hasn’t said anything about postponing or canceling it. He remains persistent, as if nothing has happened. I hate to admit it, but I’ve also settled in better th