“I’m still winning here.” He smiled with his eyes.
My blood raced inside my veins. So what if Enzo hadn’t guessed right? The instructions didn’t say anything about telling someone else, right? Gina already knew, for heaven’s sake.
“I…” I began.
Enzo leaned closer, his smile fading. “Is everything alright? I was just kidding, I didn’t mean to…”
Damn it. My face was a terrible liar, spilling every secret I tried to hide. I squeezed his hand, feeling the heat of his fingers against mine. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I kept whispering to myself: so what? So what if I tell him the truth?
“Promise me you won’t freak out.”
My lips tasted of blood. I bite them when I’m nervous.
“I promise.”
I let go of his hand and clasped my own under the table. A bit of self-encouragement never hurt anyone.
“Alright…”
I spilled everything in a rush, a jumble of disconnected words and fragmented phrases that I hoped Enzo could piece together.
“I’mtrappedinthecycleofnightsandmorningsandIhavetospendallthemoneyinthreedaysunderthreatofcompletedestructionofmycareer.” Oh, and: “Idon’thaveacluewho’sdoingthisorwhy.”
Phew.
Enzo’s eyes widened as if he’d seen a ghost, but he regained his calm look fast, clearing his throat.
“What’s your plan now?” he asked, once the shockhad worn off.
He swept a hand through his hair, pushing a stray lock off his forehead, and leaned in, elbows propped on the table. The subtle shift in his posture was magnetic, pulling me closer as if his presence alone could give me a solution.
“For now,” I said, rising with a graceful stretch, “I’m paying for this lunch.” I slipped my coat on, letting it settle over my shoulders with a touch of drama. “Shall we? I’ve got to work this afternoon.”
We stepped out into the crisp air, and Enzo, ever the charmer, suggested, “What about a casino? People lose fortunes there. It could be our jackpot.”
He held my purse, a casual gesture that hinted at more. I fumbled with my coat, noting how he braved the cold without so much as a shiver. His nonchalance was almost intoxicating.
“I don’t want to draw attention to myself,” I said, reclaiming my purse with a swift motion.
Enzo continued, his voice playful yet tinged with an undercurrent of something more intense. “And what if…”
“Don’t even think about suggesting I blow it all on drugs,” I cut him off, my tone sharp but laced with a hint of challenge.
Enzo raised both hands in mock surrender, his eyes twinkling. “I wasn’t thinking of that!” he said, but then his arm extended, fingers curling gently around my wrist. “Vera, do you trust me?”
I met his gaze, feeling that familiar flutter in my stomach. Even without the restaurant’s elaborate lighting, the intensity in his eyes was undeniable, drawing me in. Trusting him was a gamble, but there was an instinctive pull that nudged me toward him. We’d known each other long enough for me to believe in that unspoken connection.
“Yes,” I answered, the word almost a whisper.
“Then hand over one of those bundles of cash,” Enzo said, his voice low and inviting.
I handed it over. What was I going to do, run off with it? All yours. I didn’t want it.
Instead, Enzo examined it, focusing on the bluish band that held it together.
“I saw you pull this out earlier and… Well, I noticed this.” He pointed to it. “It’s a logo. Club Montari. Have you ever been there?”
Club Montari.
