Chapter 57
Enzo
They stepped out into the warm Vegas night, the buzz of neon and adrenaline still thick in the air.
Enzo didn’t say a word–not at first.
He couldn’t.
Lola had just walked into a negotiation she wasn’t invited to, flipped the script without breaking a sweat, and handed him the kind of leverage it usually took months to orchestrate. No blood. No threat from him. Just her voice–sharp, fluent Mandarin, velvet–wrapped fury–and the terrifying calm of someone who meant every word.
Jesus fucking Christ.
She didn’t just survive the meeting.
She commanded it.
He watched her as they approached the curb–how she moved like nothing was out of place. But he saw it: the micro–shift in her shoulders, the fidget in her fingers, the way she edged closer to Dom.
Interesting.
He clocked the quick whisper. Dom blinked, leaned in, nodded. That same small grin he wore earlier when she’d joked about breaking kneecaps with her stilettos.
Enzo didn’t know what she said, but he added it to the list.
Lola Marlowe was a walking riddle in heels. And he was officially obsessed with every fucking piece of her.
The SUV pulled up.
Before anyone else could move, he reached for her–hand at her waist, guiding her into the backseat like he had to be touching her again. His palm slid over the dip of her spine, a grounding point for his sanity.
Once the door closed, he exhaled. Finally.
“You just played two seasoned brokers like they were interns,” he murmured into her neck, voice hoarse. “You have no idea what that deal just bought me.”
Lola tilted her head, lips brushing his jaw. “I might have some idea.”
He kissed her–deep, proud, possessive. The kind of kiss that said mine.
Dom coughed from the front seat.
“I’ve never been more turned on and afraid of a woman in my life,” he muttered.
Nico snorted. “She’s like a sexy, slightly unhinged war crime.”
Enzo grinned into Lola’s hair.
“Shut the fuck up and tell those goons to get the champagne ready. We need to toast.”
That’s the moment it hit him.
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Chapter 57
She was more than unpredictable.
She was chaos incarnate.
And he was fucked.
God help whoever tries to touch my girl.
She shifted slightly beside him, then glanced up with wide, curious eyes and whispered, “Do you think they’ll hold to the deal?”
Her voice was soft. Too soft.
It did something to him.
He tilted his head, pressing a kiss just beneath her ear.
“They’ll hold.
Or they’ll burn.”
She hummed. Quiet approval. Like that was exactly what she wanted to hear.
And still–something in her hadn’t come down yet.
She wasn’t shaky. She wasn’t smiling.
She was… buzzing beneath the surface.
He’d seen it before. In men before a kill. In himself, after.
Adrenaline with nowhere to go.
His hand traced up her thigh, still grounding her.
His.
She was his.
And tomorrow, the whole city would feel the shift.
The skyline buzzed past as the SUV climbed the long curve toward his private entrance. His phone vibrated once in his pocket–business–but he didn’t check it.
Not tonight.
Tonight was hers.
And she’d earned every damn second of it.
The elevator slid open into the penthouse,
Lola wandered in barefoot, heels dangling from her fingers, lips still glossed from Enzo’s kiss in the car.
She looked like she’d just walked out of a dream and into his fucking bloodstream.
Not a hint of nerves left. Just velvet confidence wrapped in chaos, and somehow, she belonged here.
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Like she’d always belonged here.
She didn’t look like someone who’d just outmaneuvered seasoned criminals.
She looked like a storm pretending to be summer.
She made herself a home between the bar and his heartbeat.
Dom handed her a flute. “Toast with us, trouble.”
“Just one,” she warned, accepting it. “I have work tomorrow.”
No. Absolutely not. Work meant strangers. Touching her. Talking to her.
He took a long sip of champagne and tried to stay civilized.
“Client?” Gino asked.
Lola grimaced around the rim of her glass. “Unfortunately.”
“Tattoo?” Marco clarified.
“Mm–hm. Kevin.”
You let that guy back in your shop more than once?
“That Kevin?” Gino added.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Yes. That Kevin.”
Marco leaned an elbow on the counter. “And you’re letting him into your space alone?”
“I’m a professional,” she said. “I can handle Kevin.”
“No,” Enzo said simply, setting down his glass. “You won’t be alone.”
Lola arched a brow. “Oh really?”
He didn’t flinch. “Gino and Marco will be nearby.”
I trust them to watch her. But if that little bastard even breathes too close-
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Chapter 57
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