Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 190

Chapter 190

The board was clean.

For months it had been littered with black ink and red slashes–supply routes, shell companies, warehouses Dmitri thought were invisible. Piece by piece, Enzo had stripped him down until nothing was left but a skeleton operation held together by duct tape and desperation.

Now only one mark remained.

Enzo tapped the map, the edge of his knuckle sharp against the laminated surface. “That warehouse goes tonight. After that, he’s finished.”

Dom leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Gino already has a crew staged. Quiet in, quiet out. By morning, Dmitri’s done moving in

this city.”

Enzo’s mouth pressed into a line. Six weeks. Exactly what she gave me. Every deadline had been a knife against his ribs. But now, finally, he could breathe.

He dismissed the men with a tilt of his chin. They scattered–good soldiers who knew when their boss’s patience had run thin

Enzo stayed, staring at the map until the silence settled deep. The last ghost of Dmitri was about to be buried, and all he could think about was her. Her laughter when she tried to mask her fear. The defiance even when her hands trembled. The way she’d said she wanted to live in his world, to obey its rules, even when those rules had teeth.

The corner of his phone buzzed against the table.

Lola.

Enzo unlocked it, already bracing for whatever chaos she was spinning tonight.

Lola: Serious question..

Lola: If I only pack bikinis, does that technically a

ally count as

as clothes?

Enzo’s thumb paused over the screen, his jaw ticking as the corner of his mouth betrayed the smallest smirk,

Enzo: Clothes? No.

Enzo: Torture? Yes.

The typing bubbles blinked, disappeared, then flared again.

Lola: Oh, is Daddy going to torture me or am I going to torture you? Just so I know what to pack for, exactly.

at the empty

mpty war room, then typed back slow,

Heat sparked low in his chest. He glanced at

Enzo: Definitely both, gattina (kitten).

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Chapter 190

Enzo. Body healed only to be punished by me over. And over. And over again.

Lola: Sounds like a

threat.

Lola: also sounds super hot, I’m in.

Enzo’s hand clenched around the phone until his knuckles whitened, Christ. Every word she sent was gasoline on couts he’d been forcing himself to smother. The six weeks of restraint, of telling himself she needed time to heal, of respecting her boundary about their “meeting“-she undid all of it with three lines of text.

The taste of her was already in his mouth, memory sharp as a blade. He closed his eyes briefly, forcing air through his langs. He couldn’t let her see him unravel, not now. Soon. Soon, when the world stopped demanding blood and she was safe enough to let herself burn with him.

He forced the screen dark and slid the phone into his pocket. He had a dinner to get to, allies to reassure that Dmitri’s fall wouldn’t spill blood into their streets. But she was already in his head–half dressed, laughing at him, daring him to snap.

nzo slidin, tugging his

s jacket straight. Nico stood on

The car was waiting out front, Dom behind the wheel, Gino in the passenger seat. Enzo the curb, hands in his pockets, waiting for instructions.

Enzo studied him for a beat. The man had been quiet since the hospital–watching Lola with a kind of devotion that cut both ways. It grated. It soothed. Enzo hadn’t decided which burned more.

“Stay with her tonight,” Enzo said finally, volce rougher than he meant. “And for god’s sake don’t let her order anymore clothes for that damn duck. I’m starting to regret it.”

Nico’s mouth ticked. “Think I can manage that”

Enzo’s jaw flexed. I know you can. That was the problem.

But he gave a curt nod and pulled the door shut. The car eased into traffic, neon blurring past the windows. Vegas streets buzzed outside, alive with the hum of gamblers and liars, but all be could picture was Lola barefoot in his shirt, curling against Nico on the couch.

The restaurant was all chrome and crystal, a place meant for men who wanted to look civilized while plotting ruin. Enzo played his role- wine glass untouched, voice steady as he laid out Dmitri’s collapse to an ally family whose nerves had been frying.

He sat at the head of the table, shoulders squared, dark suit crisp against the gleam of chandeliers. His presence alone steadied the room.

ross the table. “Vegas stays clean. Dmitri’s done by morning.”

“No spillover,” Enzo said, gaze cutting across

in who smiled too much for someone in their business–nodded, reassured. “Good. Then we’ll keep our

The head of the family–a man markets steady. No panic.”

Enzo inclined his head once, nothing more. Behind the stillness, his mind ran double–time. Every ally needed to be sure Dmitri’s death spiral wouldn’t drag them down. Every promise he made here was another chain link tightening around his own ches!

And then, like the devil on cue, his phone buzzed under the table.

He ignored it for

it for three minutes, maybe four, before sliding a glance down.

Lola: Nico says he’s cooking dinner

r for us. Should I be worried?

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Chapter 190

Enzo smirked falhaly, thunsh moving belate he thuight better of it.

Enzo: Yes. Don’t eat anything that looks suspicious.

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