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Enzo gave my throat one lingering kiss and let his fingers slide slowly out from under my skirt. He pulled back and rested fully against the loveseat, his arm right back to being thrown over the cushion, his fingers lazily running along my bare shoulder.

I couldn’t look up, not when his brother had no doubt seen all of the obscene stuff we’d been doing.

“What, not going to introduce me, Enzo?” his brother said with even more amusement in his voice, which made my face feel even hotter.

I grabbed on to my strength and pushed my embarrassment down to lift my head and look into the man’s face. He was young. That was the first thing I noticed. Maybe too young to even be in this nightclub legally. But he did hold an air of authority and danger around him. I knew without knowing him or asking that he was just like Enzo… a dangerous man in the mafia world.

“Paolo, this is Bianca Alfonso. Bianca, my younger brother Paolo.” Enzo kept stroking my shoulder, his tone disinterested, as if Paolo couldn’t pull him out of what we’d been doing. In fact, I felt his eyes on me, as if he couldn’t—maybe didn’t want to—take his focus off me.

Enzo slid his fingers along my throat and traced my jawline, sending chills along my body all over again.

I kept staring at Paolo, trying to keep my composure but failing miserably with Enzo’s fingers on me.

“Pleasure meeting you, Bianca.” Paolo stepped closer, his smile widening as he reached out to take my hand, but the deep growl that came from Enzo had Paolo and me freezing.

I glanced at Enzo, shocked at the intense—frighteningly hard—expression that was on his face and aimed right at Paolo. I looked at his brother then, watching his smile falter as he took in his sibling’s expression. His brows then pulled low, and he took a step back, nodding once in some kind of silent understanding.

Enzo is staking his claim. He’s letting anyone and everyone, even his brother, know you’re his.

Oh God… that was scary and so arousing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bianca.” Gone was the flirty, arrogant amusement in Paolo’s tone, and in its place was clear respect. With another incline of his head in Enzo’s direction, he turned and walked back over to two younger men who stood by the VIP bar, ones I hadn’t even noticed until now. My face heated again as I wondered how long they’d been standing there and what they’d all seen.

Paolo and the men walked away and disappeared behind a red velvet curtain in the VIP section. I exhaled and looked at Enzo, who, not surprisingly, had his gaze locked on me. “What was that about?” I whispered, knowing I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant, especially when Enzo smirked.

He didn’t respond, just reached out for his whiskey and took a sip as he stared at me over the rim. Oh, so he wanted to play it that way?

“What were you doing, staking your claim on me or something?” I tried to sound indignant, but there was zero heat in my voice. I'd be lying if I tried to play it off that I didn’t like the possessive side of Enzo, or the fact that he wanted to make it known.

He didn’t speak as he took another sip, then set his glass back down, focusing on me once more. “I don’t need to stake my claim,” he murmured. “You’re already mine.”

And just like that, my desire was right at the forefront.

“But I won’t tolerate any man thinking they can look at you or get anywhere near where they can touch what’s mine.”

My tongue felt thick, the need to tell him I couldn’t be owned by anyone right on the tip of my tongue. But instead, I said, “Even your brother?”

He leaned in a fraction, and I held my breath. “Even my brother.” Enzo lowered his gaze to my mouth, and I knew he was seconds away from kissing me and getting us right back to the spot we’d been in before Paolo stopped us.

“I need to use the restroom,” I whispered suddenly and stood, my head feeling woozy from the champagne and Enzo’s close proximity. It wasn’t that I needed to use the bathroom. I needed space, air… needed to gather my thoughts.

Enzo smirked, and I knew he was fully aware how this was nothing but running away. But he said nothing, just tipped his head toward the direction of the bathroom. I licked my lips and stared at him for a moment before turning and making my way toward the back of the VIP section and down the short hallway where the private bathrooms were. I was proud of myself for walking steadily, and once in the bathroom, I leaned against the white-and-black granite counter and breathed out slowly. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my reflection was shocking.

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