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“Nothing about this is okay,” I cried, the shudder in my chest escaping through my voice. “Please don’t go.”
“Maria, I promise I’ll be fine, and I won’t hurt anyone.”
“But you plan to torture this man you’re kidnapping from the CIA, right?” I couldn’t even swipe at the tears because he had such a hold on my hands, and I didn’t have the energy to pull away.
His quiet nod had my stomach turning. “You’re not just good with a knife in the kitchen,” I blurted, my irrational fears washing over me and coming true before my eyes.
He lowered his gaze to my lap, where he kept hold of my hands. “I’m good with my hands in multiple ways, I guess,” he said in a solemn tone. “I’d rather cook, though.”
Then slice and dice a man? Oh jeez. There went my stomach again. Tip-tilt-twirling around. “The middle of your story. Just tell me now. Please. Rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with, because I’m pretty sure I’ve already filled in the blanks myself anyway.” My gaze climbed up the ink on his exposed forearm, the one with the rosary inked there.
“How detailed do you want it?” he asked, an uneasy expression crossing his face.
“I, um, don’t need to know exactly how you killed that man. I’m guessing you made him suffer, though.” At his nod, my pulse climbed. “Just tell me what you think I need to know.”
“I can do that.” He looked up for a moment, as if searching for the courage to reveal his past.
I could feel his fear that I’d hate him afterward in the squeeze of my hands. See the guilt vividly in the lines of his face when our eyes once again met.
“The deal my brothers and I were offered to avoid prison time was with the US government,” he finally began. “I don’t even know the name of the group we worked for, but they weren’t CIA or FBI. Not the NSA or Homeland Security. And it doesn’t matter anymore, they were disbanded three years ago, and our contract was voided early.” He paused for a breath. “Those years after Bianca’s death, my brothers and I were basically unpaid mercenaries for the government. We were sent on ops around the world a few times a year but without backup or support. We were on our own if caught. My path also crossed with Jesse’s on occasion during that time.”
Well, that didn’t sound horrible. I could handle that.
“The thing is, we were really good at what we did. Really fucking good. And it was hard for us to look away when we saw injustices happening all around us. People going unpunished for crimes they committed because of legal bullshit. And as long as we did what we were told by the government, they didn’t seem to care if we went off on our own from time to time.”
“What do you mean? Like what your dad did in Italy?”
He offered only a tight nod, letting me know there were details I didn’t need to hear, and I wouldn’t want to, either.
“So when Natalia offered you the job at the restaurant, you took it because you were done with your government contract and ... what? You decided to quit being a vigilante, too?”
“I didn’t like the person I was, Maria. The path I was on was a dark one. And I knew Bianca wouldn’t approve, so yeah, I decided to quit and leave New York. My brothers agreed to quit as well.” He let go of my hands and shifted back, sinking onto his heels, remaining looking up at me like a man searching for forgiveness. “It’s not like we went around killing everyone we deemed a bad guy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Well, I wasn’t, but I can’t get that horrific image out of my head now.”
Sure, I loved the morally gray men in romance novels who’d burn down the world for the woman they loved. But that was fiction. Could I handle it in the real world?
“I’m sorry.” He set a fist at his side and pushed up off the floor to stand. “I can tell this is too much for you, and that’s why I didn’t want to make love before you knew the truth. I knew that you—”
“Stop.” I rose to stand before him. “It is a lot, you’re right. And I’m processing, sure. But don’t put words in my mouth.” I grabbed hold of his shirt, and his jaw clenched as he lowered his eyes to my hand. “But I need to know if there’s more to your story. Or any other half-truths. Lies?”
“Maria.” His hand tangled in my hair, cupping the back of my head, demanding my attention. “I’ve only truly lied to you once.”
“What was it?”
Bending in, drawing his lips closer, he exhaled a jagged breath over my skin. “That I could only be your friend.”
He wound my hair around his fist and tugged, drawing my lips up like an offering, and he waited to see if I’d take it or refuse him.
His focus ran down between us, blazing a trail of heat over my skin as he looked at me. Finding my eyes again, he rasped, “I told you before, you hold the power over me, so tell me what you want, Tesoro. Am I letting go of you, or are we making love?”
TWENTY-THREE
Maria
“You know what I want.”
“What are you saying?” I felt the dark murmur of intent in Enzo’s tone all the way down to my toes as he let go of my hair.
