STUCK WITH MY ENEMY

BIANCA

I hated him.

Every time I thought I had reached the peak of my hatred for Roberto Grimani, he found a way to push me further. Like some sick game he played just to see how much I could take before I broke.

He was always taking.

Taking my time. Taking my patience. Taking the last shred of peace I had in my goddamn life.

And last night, he had taken something else.

My choice.

Two men. Two dates. Two heads cracked against the pavement before I even finished my drink.

And for what?

Because he decided they weren’t good enough for me? He thought they were too dangerous?

The irony.

The real danger wasn’t them.

It was him.

And the proof of it was all over me.

Blood on my torn blouse. Dirt caked into the cuts on my palms. My wrists sore from where I had been bound.

I could have died.

Because of him.

Because of the chaos that followed him like a shadow, wrapping around everything he touched.

I should have been terrified. I should have been grateful to be alive. But all I felt was rage.

I turned on him, shoving his chest with all the force I had left. “You think you saved me?” My voice shook, but not with fear. “You think knocking out two men in one night makes you some kind of fucking hero? Guess what, Rob? It was you who led this danger straight to me.”

His jaw clenched. “I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?” I cut him off, stepping forward. “Didn’t mean to? Didn’t think?” I let out a bitter laugh. “No, of course you didn’t think. You never think. You just do whatever the hell you want and expect everyone to deal with the consequences.”

His eyes darkened, nostrils flaring. “You think this is what I wanted?” His voice was low, rough. “You think I wanted you involved in this?”

“You don’t get to play the victim, Roberto,” I spat. “Not when I’m the one who almost died.”

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something dark and raw. But I didn’t care.

I didn’t care if my words cut him deep. I wanted them to.

I wanted him to hurt like I did.

His hands fisted at his sides, the veins in his forearms pulsing. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

I laughed again. Sharp. Cold. “Of course not. Because you never tell me anything. You just make decisions for me. Control me. Like you own me.”

His teeth clenched. “I don’t—”

“Then why?” I stepped even closer, my voice rising. “Why did you do it? Why do you keep doing it?”

His lips parted, but no words came out.

I shook my head. “That’s what I thought.”

Silence stretched between us, thick with everything we refused to say.

I could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath still heavy from the fight. From our fight.

I hated that my body still reacted to him, even when my mind screamed at me to run.

To get as far away from him as possible before he destroyed me completely.

Because that’s what Roberto Grimani did.

He ruined things. Broke things.

And I was already hanging by a thread.

Leonardo and Arya walked up to us.

It was good to see them again. Really good. But I wished it were under better circumstances.

“We’ve rounded them up,” Leonardo said, his voice even but his eyes sharp as they landed on Roberto.

Arya, on the other hand, was watching me intently. Thinking too much.

I knew that look.

I didn’t have time for this.

I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving them to handle their own mess.

But of course, Leonardo wasn’t about to let me go that easily.

He followed, his heavy footsteps catching up too fast. “You sneaked away from your security guards, Bianca?” His voice was tight with frustration. “I think you now know why I won’t compromise on your safety again. Come back to Italy.”

I spun around, my aggression shifting to him. “I will not. You can bury me under a hundred security guards if it makes you sleep better at night, but I am not going home.”

His jaw flexed, but his voice remained steady. “I don’t care if you hate me for it. I’d rather have you alive. You’re my only real family, Bianca. Our parents” — he exhaled sharply — “you know they don’t care. Not like we do. We’ve had each other’s backs since you were old enough to walk. That’s never going to change.”

That did it.

The fight drained from my body, and the pressure in my chest cracked open. Tears burned my eyes, then spilled over.

Because he was right.

Leonardo had always been my safe place. The only one I could truly be vulnerable with.

“I know, brother,” I whispered, pressing my forehead against his chest as he pulled me into his arms. His warmth, his scent. Home.

But even that wasn’t enough to make me leave.

“I can’t go back.” My voice broke, but I forced myself to continue. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll stay under security, I won’t sneak away, I’ll” — I swallowed hard — “I’ll be careful, Leo. But I can’t go back.”

Leonardo was silent for a long time. Then, his arms tightened around me.

“I’m sorry, Bianca,” he murmured.

I frowned. “No.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to cup the back of my head, his expression unreadable.

“Rob is the only person I trust to protect you.” His words were calm but absolute. “If you want to stay here, he stays with you. Twenty-four hours a day. At your firm. At your house. Everywhere. He owes it to me for the bullshit he dragged you into. He will clean up his mess.” His grip on me was firm. “Do you agree to that?”

Oh, hell no.

I took a sharp step back. “Leo—”

“Bianca, no.” His voice hardened. “It’s either that or you come home with me. Right now.”

I stared at him, my heart hammering in my chest.

And then I nodded.