Chapter 128
Dinner on the rooftop was meant to be simple–food, wine, a quiet night before they all split in the morning.
Instead, Enzo found himself leaning back in his chair, glass of scotch in hand, watching Lola. She sat cross–legged in her seat, green eyes flashing as she laughed at something Dom muttered.
Christ. She doesn’t even try, and she still owns the whole room.
“Alright,” Lola said, tapping her fork against her glass. “Game plan for tomorrow. I’m down in the salon at six to see Babbs, then I’ll meet you boys at the car for San Diego at nine.”
“Which car?” Nico asked, brow raised.
“The armored one,” Enzo cut in before she could answer, his tone leaving no room for debate.
“And us?” Gino asked, looking between him and Dom.
“We’re headed north,” Enzo said, setting his glass down. “Salvos want a sit–down. Can’t wait.”
Gino sighed, stabbing at his plate. “Figures. Just when the food gets good, business calls.”
“Stop whining,” Dom muttered. “At least you’re not on expo duty with Lola. That’s a three–day circus.”
“Hey!” Lola narrowed her eyes. “My expos are fun.”
“Your expos are chaos,” Nico shot back, though there was a hint of a grin in his voice.
The table broke into quiet laughter. Even Enzo’s mouth curved, though he didn’t take his eyes off her. She was glowing in the candlelight -untouchable and yet right there, his.
Then she looked at him. Really looked. The grin she’d been wearing for the others softened into something sharper, private.
There it is. That look. Mine.
Lola set down her fork and pushed back from the table. “Alright, amore. Enough strategy talk.” She tilted her chin toward the stairs with a wicked smile. “Time for bed.”
Enzo didn’t hesitate. He stood, leaving his half–finished glass behind, and followed her–every set of eyes at the table tracking them, the quiet hum of conversation cutting out in their wake.
Enzo lay back against the pillows, Lola curled into his chest like she was made for it. The city was nothing but a smear of light beyond the balcony glass, but all he saw was her–warm, soft, smelling faintly of soap and ink.
She traced idle shapes against his ribs, voice low. “I’ll be fine, Enzo. Dom’s fake–boyfriend duty for day one, Nico’s for day two. Between them and the six men, I’ll have more shadows than the Pope.”
His jaw ticked, hand sliding from her back to cup her hip. Fake boyfriends. Like hell I like the sound of that. Not because it’s Dom. Not because it’s Nico. But because the world doesn’t get to see her that way. Not when every second she spends at their side belongs to me.
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10:59 Wed, Oct 8 M
Chapter 128
He didn’t–voice it. Not all of it. Just let his thumb sweep her skin, a warning and a vow. “I don’t like it.”
She tipped her chin up, eyes catching his in the dark, green shot through with gold. “I know.” Her smirk softened, crooked and sure. “But relax. I may have two stand in boyfriends…” She wiggled the giant, heart–shaped, pink diamond ring. “…but I’ve only got one fake fiancé
Enzo’s arms were tight around her, his forehead pressed to hers, voice low and stubborn. “You can call it fake all you want, but I’m going to marry you one day.”
Her chest squeezed, the fierceness in his tone hitting her deeper than she wanted to admit. She brushed her thumb across his jaw, softening her smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Her throat closed. The words burned at the back of her tongue, demanding to be freed. She swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper.
“…It may have started as the craziest accident, but I’m yours.”
Enzo’s breath caught, rough around the edges. His grip flexed against her back, pulling her flush against his chest. For once, he didn’t have a comeback–only the roar of his pulse.
She loves me. My queen loves me. And I’ll burn the world before I let her go.
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