Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 76

Enzo kept the plan running in his mind long after Lola drifted off. The more he thought about it, the cleaner it became. Marco and his old lady could be down there before the week was out. A quiet crew could be embedded, the kind that knew how to blend in and keep their mouths shut. Within a month, he’d know every movement the Zhangs made–every meal, every meeting, every face they spoke to.

When morning came, he was up first. Lola didn’t have to be at the shop until noon, and she’d earned a morning to sleep in after the week they’d had. She was still curled into the warm hollow of his side when he eased out of bed, careful not to wake her.

Suit on, coffee in hand, he slid into the back of the car and started making calls.

Marco was waiting in his office by the time Enzo got to HQ.

They talked logistics, contingencies, and the kind of surveillance that would make the Zhangs feel the weight of his shadow without him ever having to step foot near them.

Enzo sat back in the leather chair, the grain of the wood table warm under his forearms, morning sunlight cutting thin blades through the blinds. Marco’s seat was still angled toward him, the faint scuff of the man’s shoes on the tile already fading down the hall.

The plan was in motion.

“Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now.

He shifted forward, clasping his hands on the table.

First meeting of the day. The board was set. And if he played it right, the Zhangs wouldn’t even realize they were losing until the king was already in check.

Enzo had been in his office since just after dawn, coffee gone cold on the corner of the desk, ashtray already holding the day’s first cigarette. The low hum of the building was steady–phones ringing, doors opening and shutting, voices carrying in muffled fragments through thick walls.

But under it all, the plan Lola had laid out the night before was still running like a current in his head. Clear. Precise. Dangerous.

Marco stepped in without knocking, a thick folder under his arm. “We’re good to move on it,” he said. “I already started vetting a short list of people we trust for a long–term post down there.”

Enzo leaned back, fingers tapping against the armrest. “You and Luce are going. Pack what you need for at least three months.”

Marco’s brows kicked up. “Us?”

“You,” Enzo said, flat. “You’ll rebuild from the inside–shift every loyalty, cut every soft tie. I want eyes on every Zhang. Family, friends, business associates. I want patterns mapped, weaknesses circled, schedules memorized. If they so much as take a walk at a different time of day, I want it on my desk by morning.”

“Replace them,” Enzo said. “Quietly. No noise, no threats. Just… absence.”

Dom drifted in midway through, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “When you want it started?”

“It’s already started,” Enzo said. “I’ll be down there myself in a week or two. I want everything in motion before I arrive.”

Marco opened the folder, flipping through satellite photos, personnel notes, shipment logs. They spent the next forty minutes talking routes, suppliers, and how to slip in new faces without drawing heat. By the time Marco left, the execution was in motion–tight, clean, and without a traceable edge.

The rest of the day was business as usual–if “usual” meant two sit–downs with mid–level crews, signing off on a cash transfer that could’ve bought a casino floor, and a terse call with a Vegas councilman who needed a reminder of who kept his campaign coffers full.

But every so often, his mind circled back to last night. The way Lola had been curled against him in the dark, voice soft but steady as she laid it out. No hesitation. No fear. Just certainty.

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