Chapter 19
Enzo
She hadn’t moved his hand. That meant something. She was letting him touch her–press against her thigh like he owned it, like her pulse belonged under his thumb. Like they were already something more than this lie they’d wrapped around themselves.
I can’t keep my hands off of her. Her placing my hand on her ass did something. Opened some gate I thought I had a handle on but my thumb stroking the inside of her thigh says otherwise.
She should’ve moved. But she didn’t. And that was all it took to tip something in his chest. He watched her in the reflection of the tinted window.
Lips soft. Chin tight. She was furious but still trying to piece together what happened. Still trying to protect herself, continually taking in information for planning.
And he hated that she had to.
Even more, he hated that he wasn’t the one who’d taken her that night. That he didn’t remember the exact moment she’d looked at him like he was hers and decided to steal him away. Because that’s what she’d done. Whether either of them meant to or not.
She kidnapped me.
And now I don’t want to leave.
His thumb dragged a little higher on her thigh, just to feel her breath catch again.
Still letting me. Brave little thing.
She wore fake bravado like a crown–little space buns, sundress too short for mercy, thighs strong and inked and soft beneath his hand. But her eyes? They carried secrets. She didn’t want to trust him. She might not. But she was trying. And that–that was what sealed it.
Enzo tapped twice on the glass partition. “Pull over,” he said.
Dom twisted in his seat. “Here?”
“Now.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said, hand still on her thigh.
Then he slipped out of the SUV and into the black–glass storefront without another word.
The bell didn’t ring. Places like this didn’t need bells. Just soft lighting, soundproof walls, and velvet cases lined with things that whispered power instead of screaming it. The man behind the counter nodded. “Mr. Marchesi.”
“I need an engagement ring.”
No questions. Just movement. The man disappeared into the back. Enzo stood still.
He wasn’t a ring guy. He didn’t do symbols. Didn’t do ceremony.
But-
She hadn’t flinched. Not when the door got kicked in.
Not when he wrapped his arm around her waist and declared her his. Not when every gun in the room was suddenly pointed at her future.
1/3
द
And afterward? She cracked jokes. Took charge.
Pulled him forward by the waistband like she owned him.
Dared him to play this game and acted like she wasn’t already winning. She should’ve been scared.
Instead, she sparkled. And maybe that’s why he was here.
Not to sell the lie.
But because he wanted something real on her finger. Something that said: mine.
The jeweler returned with a tray–standard cuts, perfect clarity, all wrong. Enzo didn’t even look twice.
“Something different.”
The man hesitated, then produced a black velvet box. Slim. Unassuming.
Inside it-
Eight carats. Heart–shaped. Pink diamond.
Flanked with just enough fire to draw blood. Platinum band. No bullshit.
It mirrored the ring she wore now. The fake one. But this one didn’t blink. It burned.
He stared.
He nodded once. “That one.”
Lola
The second Enzo shut the SUV door behind him, the silence got loud. Four men. Suits. Weapons. Glances like they were trying to figure out what the hell to make of her. So she smiled. Sweet. Sharp. And turned in her seat like this was speed dating for the mob. “Well, since we’re all going to be one big dysfunctional family now,” she chirped, “who wants to go first?”
Marco blinked. “First… what?”
“Names, secrets, deepest fears. Let’s bond.”
I’ll just annoy them until they play with me. I can start with the pig joke.
“I’m driving,” Gino muttered quickly. “Can’t participate. Sorry. Real shame.”
Lola raised a brow. “Oh, absolutely not. You’re the reason I’m here, sunshine. You don’t get to opt out of the group therapy plus we’re parked.”
“Was worth a shot.”
She turned her gaze to the back row. “You” she pointed at Nico “-you look like you read books with sad endings just to feel something.”
2/3
Chapter 19
Nico’s eyes widened. “How did you-
“She’s good,” Marco said, impressed.
“Dom,” she said, tilting her head toward the front passenger seat, “let me guess: no nonsense, no attachments, no one touches your espresso machine without losing a hand?”
Dom’s jaw ticked. “…yes.”
Lola beamed. “Knew it.”
Okay this is working. Looking cool, totally reading these guys. Cool. Doing great.
“Where exactly did Enzo meet you?” Marco asked, not unkind, but curious. “You don’t seem like his usual… type.”
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