Chapter 4: The Proposition

The heavy click of the deadbolts locking echoed through the foyer like a gunshot.

I stared at the single drop of blood on the marble floor. My heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs, but I didn't scream. I just stood there, my hand trapped in Enzo’s iron grip.

“Victoria, get upstairs. Now,” Enzo ordered, his voice dangerously quiet.

“But Enzo—”

“Now.”

Victoria’s face twisted with rage, but she didn't argue. She turned on her heel and hurried up the grand staircase, her heels clicking frantically against the stone.

The moment she was out of sight, Enzo pulled me down the hallway. His grip on my hand was painful. The moment we stepped out of the foyer, the temperature of the house seemed to drop.

“Marcus,” Enzo barked. “Check the perimeter. Dante, sweep the east wing.”

“Where are we going?” I whispered, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“My office.”

He shoved the heavy oak door open. The smell of copper and cordite hit me instantly.

A man was lying face down on the Persian rug. Blood pooled around his head, staining the expensive fabric a sickening crimson. The safe behind him was wide open. Papers were scattered everywhere.

I gasped, stumbling back, but Enzo yanked me forward.

“Don't look at him,” he ordered, stepping over the body. He pulled me behind his desk and finally let go of my hand.

The moment his skin left mine, he staggered. He gripped the edge of the mahogany desk, his knuckles turning white as a violent shudder racked his body.

“Enzo?” I breathed, forgetting for a second that I was his prisoner.

“I need a minute,” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You’re shaking,” I said.

“Because you let go of me,” he snapped, opening his eyes. They were bloodshot, feral. “Come here.”

I didn't argue this time. I stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing his hand. The trembling stopped instantly. He let out a ragged breath, pulling me between his legs and leaning his forehead against my stomach.

I stood frozen, looking down at the top of his head. This ruthless, terrifying Mafia Godfather was clinging to me like I was a lifeline.

“Someone stole the ledger,” Enzo muttered against my dress. “The one with the names of every judge, senator, and cop on my payroll. The one your father stole from my family decades ago.”

My blood ran cold. “My father?”

Enzo lifted his head, his dark eyes boring into mine. “I was supposed to marry you to get it back. That’s what the blood debt was. Your father hands over the ledger, and I marry his daughter to legitimize his standing. But your father is a coward. He tried to hide the ledger, and now someone else in my house has taken it.”

“You think I did it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “You think I killed that man?”

“I think you’re a Vance,” Enzo said, his voice flat. “And Vances are known for their greed. But if you were a spy, you wouldn't have put your hands on me in that club. You would have known what it does to me.”

He stood up slowly, towering over me. He didn't let go of my hand.

“I’m locked in this house with a traitor, Sarah,” he said softly. “And you are the only person in the world I can physically touch. If I lose you, I lose my mind. I will become exactly the monster everyone thinks I am.”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

He reached into the open safe, pulling out a heavy black revolver. He checked the chamber, the click of the metal echoing in the quiet room.

“I’m saying that until I find out who is betraying me, you are going to be my shadow,” Enzo said, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don't leave my sight. You don't speak to anyone without my permission. And if you try to run, I will put a bullet in your leg to keep you here.”

“That’s not a marriage, Enzo,” I whispered. “That’s a hostage situation.”

He stepped closer, his free hand coming up to grip my chin, tilting my face up to his.

“You wanted a contract, Sarah,” he murmured. “This is the proposition. You stay by my side, you keep your mouth shut, and you help me find the traitor. In return, I won't let my men touch you, and I won't put a bullet in your father’s head until you ask me to.”

I stared into his dark eyes. I was trapped in a house with a killer. But I also had an opportunity. A leverage.

“I want a favor,” I said, my voice steady.

A dark, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Name it.”

“If I help you find the mole,” I said, “you give me something to hold over my father. Something that will ruin him. I want him to pay for what he did to me.”

Enzo’s smile widened, a flash of genuine amusement in his eyes. “You’re a cold-blooded little thing, aren't you, Mrs. Vitale?”

“I learned from the best,” I shot back.

He let go of my chin, his hand sliding down to wrap around my waist. He pulled me flush against his chest. The revolver rested against his thigh, but his attention was entirely on me.

“Deal,” he whispered.

Before I could respond, the office door burst open. Dante stood there, his face pale.

“Godfather,” Dante said, his voice tight. “We found the security footage from the hallway.”

Enzo’s grip on my waist tightened. “Play it.”

Dante walked over to the computer on the desk, his eyes flickering to me with pure, unadulterated hatred. He typed a few commands, and the screen lit up.

The footage showed the hallway outside the office. At exactly 2:00 AM, a figure in a black hoodie slipped through the door. The figure was small. Slender.

The figure turned, looking over their shoulder.

I gasped.

It was a woman. And she was wearing my dress.

The screen froze on a clear shot of a black dress. The exact same dress I had worn at the wedding.

Dante slammed his hand on the desk. “It’s her, Enzo! She’s the spy!”

Enzo let go of my waist, spinning me around. His eyes were filled with rage. The pain was returning, the trembling starting in his hands again.

“Where were you at 2:00 AM?” he demanded.

“In bed!” I cried. “I was locked in the room, remember? You locked me in!”

“Did anyone see you?” Enzo yelled.

“Chloe! Chloe was with me!” I lied, panic clawing at my throat. “She was in the room until midnight!”

Enzo turned to Dante. “Get the friend. Now.”

Dante hesitated, clearly wanting to argue, but one look from Enzo sent him running.

Enzo spun back to me, grabbing my shoulders. “If you’re lying to me, Sarah, I will kill you myself.”

“I’m not lying!” I said.

But the truth was, I had no idea where Chloe was at 2:00 AM. The last time I saw her was when the guard dragged her away.

The clock was ticking. And I was the only suspect.