“Not today.”
“No home improvement projects I need to be made aware of?” he presses.
I sense something different about him. His jaw is tight, his expression hard. He oozes an underlying menace that reminds me of when he kidnapped me and held me hostage. It’s almost as if he knows something.
But what? Obviously, Antonio knows where I went today. But he wasn’t present for the private discussion I had with Misha.
Shit.
I left my purse on the counter when I came back. Did Enzo go through it while I was showering? Did he find the burner my brother gave me? Does he suspect what’s happened?
“Nope,” I answer, popping the p. “I paid a visit to my brother.”
“I know.” Enzo takes a long, slow drink from his glass, the ice cubes clinking together.
That’s all he says.
Nothing else.
I try not to squirm, standing there like an intruder in the place I’ve been expected to live. Where all my things have been brought against my will. How the hell did my life unravel so spectacularly in a matter of weeks? I’ve gone from living the life I always dreamed of to having nothing. No job, the career I’ve worked so hard to build abandoned and in tatters, forced to marry into the Mafia by my brother and now expected to kill for him.
“Is something wrong?” I ask hesitantly.
“I don’t know.” Enzo lifts the hand from the back of the sofa and runs it along his stubbled jaw. “You tell me.”
Now’s my chance to confide in him about Misha and his plan. About Svetlana. But Misha’s warning wraps around my heart like a vise.
There’s no getting out of this, Katya. If you try, first I’ll kill Svetlana, and then I’ll come for you.
I move closer to Enzo, fighting to stay calm as I nonchalantly seat myself on the opposite end of the couch, tucking my legs under me. “Are you angry that I visited Misha?”
“You’re not my prisoner here, Katya. You’re free to visit your brother whenever you want. All I ask is that you keep Antonio with you at all times.”
So maybe that’s what’s behind my husband’s suddenly chilly façade. The guard must have told him that he was forced to wait during my meeting in Misha’s office.
“Misha didn’t want Antonio listening in on private family business.”
“What kind of family business was it?”
“It was…” I pause, searching for an answer I can’t give, and lick my lips. “About Svetlana.”
And in a way, it was. I’m not lying.
Not any more than I’m lying about the burner phone in my purse.
Or lying by not telling him everything that happened today, revealing Misha’s threats.
I need time. I don’t know who—if anyone—I can trust. Mind-blowing sex doesn’t mean I can put my faith in Enzo with a matter of life and death. There’s always the possibility he won’t believe me, or he’ll think I’m double-crossing him. He has every reason to think my loyalties would lie with my brother instead of him. We barely know each other.
“What about your stepmom?” Enzo asks.
Damn it.Think, Katya. Think.
He leans forward suddenly and deposits his glass on the coffee table in front of him with a loud clink. Then he straightens and holds out his hand to me. “Come here.”
I stare at his extended hand, emotions at war inside me. Fear, confusion, and lust all battle for supremacy. Regardless of what went down with Misha, I can’t control my body’s reaction to Enzo now any more than I could this morning when he gave me two orgasms before he left for work.
I can’t kill this man.
