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“Midnight.”
My feelings overwhelm me, vibrating and trembling through every cell in my body. Fear, rage, love, pain all crash together into a force inside me that whirls through my blood. It’s too much. All of it. But I won’t let the feelings go. I won’t lock them away even though it will be easier for me to do what I must. Because despite all the painful feelings, the love shines through the brightest, even if that love is what will be the end of me.
“Don’t be late,” I purr into the phone, trying to keep my strength and power in this situation. And don’t take Enzo’s deal first, I want to add but don’t.
“I think you better worry about your own timeliness, Miss Miller. I’m not the one who will lose if you show up late. You will. And I’ll make sure you suffer for your mistake.”
“I won’t be late.”
He laughs. “So much confidence and determination to die, Miss Miller.”
“I won’t be the one who dies,” I threaten back.
“And I won’t be the one who sacrifices my life to save another. Midnight, Miss Miller. Not a second late or you know what will happen. You will apologize for all the pain you have caused me. And I will enjoy taking everything from you. So I would think long and hard before you show up, Kai. Because when I’m done with you, even your name will sound like a curse. You will hate everything and everyone. Death will seem more than a blessing. One I will never grant. Not until death seems like the worst choice again.”
The phone goes silent.
Rage.
Rage wins out through all the other emotions.
Rage for what Milo did to Zeke.
Rage at him threatening Enzo.
Rage at him taking me.
I may give Milo my life, but it doesn’t mean he gets to win. I will not give up that easily.
But first things first, I need to make sure Milo takes me and not Enzo.
I show up at the address long before midnight.
I could have spent my last hours of freedom enjoying them. Spending them on a beach, drinking until I’m so drunk my troubles seem like nothing. I would be numb when I finally showed up to see Milo.
But I did none of those things. All I could think about was Enzo. What was he doing? Did he return to his house by the sea? Is he still on his yacht? Did he try to intercept Milo and make his own agreement? Am I too late? Is he watching me?
My thoughts also drifted to the naughtier side. My lips yearned to feel the scruff of his face on mine as he kissed my lips, neck, breasts, stomach. My toes tingled thinking of how his tongue feels between my legs. My body ached for his cock to drive inside me.
All things I will never feel again—not from Enzo Black.
Not being with Enzo is ripping me apart. My body only feels whole when he’s inside me. When his tongue darts inside my mouth caressing my tongue, when our sweat mixes and our bodies collide in sweet euphoria. Only then am I strong enough to face the world. His touch is the only one I not only can stand but want more of. His grin is the only one I try to earn from a man. His words are the only ones I care to hear.
It may not be healthy to care so much about one man, but I do. Love will do that to you. Make you lose sight of everything else.
But it also feels like more than love.
I stand in a dark alley staring at the club I will enter closer to midnight. This feels like my destiny. Like I was born to save Enzo and also the entire Black empire. Enzo is the one who can build the empire. He is the one who can grow it to provide jobs for thousands. He is the one who can protect our allies. He is the one who can defeat enemies like Milo.
Keeping Enzo alive and leading the Black empire is more than just my love for him; it’s about protecting people who know nothing of the darkness of the world. Enzo’s father may not have cared about innocent people, but Enzo does. He may not like to show his heart often, but I’ve seen it. I know how he cares about the innocent. I know how he cares about protecting those who do not deserve to die. And I know if he were to earn the crown of Black, he would spend the rest of his life protecting those who deserve his protection. Just as he did for Liesel, and he’s strived to do for me.
I glance at my phone. It’s ten o’clock—two hours until midnight. Two hours I must wait and endure the pa
nic that beats wildly in my chest, threatening to drive me as far away from this place as possible.
I play with the black scrunchie on my wrist—the last thing Zeke gave me before he died.
I wish you were here, Zeke. You would know what to do. You would give me the courage to do what must be done.
