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He said it with such sincerity that there was no room for doubt. But he was talking about the man who promised them the world, the man they vowed vengeance for.
Did that change anything for us? For me? I don’t know, but I can’t lie here and assume I’m safe now because Enzo fucked me. That’s not how the world works, especially not ours. If anything, he may have fucked me out of his system and I’m no longer of use.
Frustrated with myself and the train of my thoughts, I shake my head before propping myself up on my elbows, my fingers clenching the sheets against me as I sigh. Last night was a whirlwind. After his speech, Enzo passed out, leaving me to slip from the bed and clean myself up, something I’ve only had to do once before… with Vito.
Shit.
Without a condom. I don’t know what we were thinking. Too drunk on each other to consider any consequences, and even though a child may not be one of them, there are plenty of other things that you can get from unprotected sex. First Vito, and now Enzo. I might make a joke about not being able to reproduce, but I’ve never been careless like this before.
Until them.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I force myself to relax. It was clear he had never done it before either, so I have to take that as my assurance that everything is okay.
When I re-entered the bedroom last night, I was half expecting to find him gone, but there he was, passed out under my sheets. It left me nervous as I tiptoed closer and delved beneath the material, opting to turn away from him and lie on my side, but in a split second, the heat of his chest was pressed against my back.
Despite my usual stiffness around others, I melted into his hold and fell asleep. I felt guarded, protected, and fucking important, which is crazy as shit because he’s supposed to be one of my captors. That title doesn’t really sit well though, not when I want to be here. I think that’s the fact that’s keeping me alive at this stage. My deliriousness.
My stomach grumbles, and I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I have no idea what the atmosphere will be like when I step out there, but I’m starving. All of that late night activity on top of the exercise I put myself through yesterday has drained my energy, and I need refueling.
Standing, I glance at the bathroom door, then to the closet. I probably should shower, but if I step in there, my brain will start overthinking and I’m really not ready to assess everything in great detail just yet.
So I move toward the closet, grabbing a pair of loose black shorts and a gray tank top. I boycott underwear and get dressed. Pulling my hair back off my face, I reach for a clip and secure it to keep my face free of any loose tendrils, before I turn to the door.
The second I reach for the handle, uncertainty kicks in. Hopefully, Enzo won’t be there. Hopefully, none of them will be there and I won’t have to deal with any of their bullshit.
With my fingers crossed, I open the door and step out into the hallway, my eyes and ears alert as I listen and search for them, only to come across nothing. My shoulders sag in relief as I head for the kitchen, but my hopes are shattered the second I walk into the room to find the three De Luca brothers huddled around the dining table. To top it all off, Nonna is nowhere to be found.
Fuck. Me.
I track my gaze over each of them, frozen in place as I scramble for my body to freaking move. They’re all in their usual suits, with their ties perfectly in place and not a speck of lint to be seen. Vito observes me, like he’s trying to pick me apart, scrutinizing every detail. The question hovers over whether he would piece me back together or not.
Matteo is glaring at me as per usual, his brows furrowing in the middle, with his jaw so tight he could cut through ice. While Enzo… fuck, he’s grinning at me like the cat who got the cream.Mycream.
My fight or flight is being triggered, but the need for coffee outweighs everything, and before I can think better of it, my feet are moving toward the coffee machine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end with the attention as I open the top cupboard to pull down a mug.
The second my hand latches onto the handle, Enzo speaks. “I made you a coffee,Bella. I was on my way to bring it to you before Matteo insisted on a brotherly meeting.”
He’s far too cheery. Far too pleased with himself. And making far too much of a show.
I can feel it.
Clearing my throat, I turn to face him, and my assessment wasn’t wrong. His smile is more prominent on the left side of his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief like I remember from the first night I met the three of them. The way he leans back in his chair, with his arm draped over Vito’s chair beside him, makes him look like a motherfucking king beckoning me closer.
I’m clearly a glutton for punishment because I’m moving toward the table for the caffeinated goodness without another word. Vito glances back and forth between Enzo and me, obviously sensing a shift, but I keep my eyes trained at the mug Enzo is pointing at.
As I near them, I notice there is a selection of pastries, cookies, and cakes scattered on the table, and at the sight of them, my stomach grumbles. Matteo is at the head of the table to my left, with Vito taking the seat beside him and Enzo facing me head-on. I stop behind the chair I usually take, not willing to walk around the table to get the mug, and Enzo thankfully slides it across the wood to me.
I lift it off the table and take a step back, ready to hightail it the fuck out of here when Vito clears his throat, drawing my attention toward him.
“Nonna said we had to make sure you eat.” His gaze drops to the treats scattered on the table, and I gulp past the lump in my throat. I had always heard Italians started the day with sweet foods instead of savory.
Nodding, I lean forward to grab a cookie with my free hand when Matteo grunts.
“Sit.”
It’s not a request, and despite the uncertainty around Enzo and I right now, I’d rather face the wrath of Matteo’s annoyance than discuss what I was up to last night.
I take my seat and a large gulp of my coffee before snatching a cookie or two. None of them utter a word as I eat, giving me a moment to relax, but I don’t lower my defenses, not with these men.
