Ten
TEN
Enzo
“So are you going to take my advice?” Nico said.
I licked my lips. “I’ll consider it.”
“You should. You can make her understand,” he said.
“Thanks, cousin,” I said, patting Nico on the shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
Before we left the private dining area, Nico scanned the room and then the hallway.
He had always been alert, ready for anything.
But now that he had found Hope, he was even more so.
“Hope,” he said when we entered the main dining room.
He smiled when she looked at him, and I wasn’t even sure if he realized it.
I wondered if Molly did that to me.
Wouldn’t be surprised if she did.
This thing with Molly was…
wild. She was like a storm, beautiful, dangerous, incapable of being contained.
That was the only way to describe it.
Describe her.
Molly was everything I never knew I needed, everything I never knew I wanted.
But now that I had her, I was determined to never let her go.
If I were a good man, one worthy of her, I would have let her go live her life.
But I wasn’t a good man.
I never had been.
She was mine.
There was no denying it.
No reason to try to fight it.
We’d get past this, and I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to her.
“Did you pass Molly?” Hope said.
She didn’t look especially alarmed—just a little confused.
“She’s not with you?” I asked.
I tried to keep cool, but on instinct, I felt myself becoming concerned.
“She went to the restroom. I thought she had run into you on the way back,” Hope said, a smile on her face.
“I haven’t seen her.”
I walked toward the front of the restaurant, saw the table, and noticed that Molly hadn’t eaten much of her breakfast.
“Where’s Molly?” I asked Giacomo, Nico’s guard.
“She left about fifteen minutes ago,” he said, like that was an acceptable answer.
“And you let her?” I said, my teeth clenched with rage, my voice low, quiet, calm in a way that I knew terrified Giacomo down to his core.
And it should. Because if something happened to Molly, I didn’t know what I would do.
Or who I would do it to.
“I…” He looked at me and gulped, clearly not wanting to respond.
“Find her,” I said.
“I’m sure she’s fine. She wasn’t feeling well,” Hope said, but I looked at her and saw that she wasn’t convinced.
“She left without saying good-bye to you,” I said.
Hope didn’t have a response.
But that was answer enough.
And suddenly…I knew.
“She heard me,” I said, looking at Nico.
Hope glanced between us, her brow furrowed.
“Heard what?”
“You don’t know that,” Nico said, ignoring Hope.
He didn’t sound convincing.
“Heard what?” Hope repeated.
“I…”
I fidgeted, then took a second to roll my shirt sleeves up my forearms. I needed the break, something to distract me from the way my heart thundered.
My shirt felt tight.
Or maybe it was my skin.
I felt like I was coming apart.
Molly was the only one that would put me back together.
Hope waited—not exactly patiently, but her stance and expression told me she’d get her answers.
I cleared my throat.
“That night. At Carlo’s, when…”
“When your cousin threw me in the trunk of a car?” Hope said.
“Yeah. I took Molly home and gave her a little something to help her forget what had happened.”
“Something like what, Enzo?” Hope said.
“Just a little MDNA.”
“You roofied her?” Hope said, her eyes bugging out.
“Well, it beat the alternative,” I said.
My voice tumbled out of my mouth like stones being ground to gravel.
I tried hard to ignore the little kick in my gut with each word.
I’d done what I needed to to keep her safe.
I refused to feel bad about it.
“And you didn’t tell her?” Hope said.
I noticed that she didn’t try to argue with my words.
She knew better than anybody else that someone in Molly’s position would ordinarily be killed.
“How was I going to tell her? That’s what Nico and I were talking about,” I said.
“And she heard you, and now she’s run off,” Hope said.
“We don’t know that.”
“You—Enzo, I’m sure she just got upset and needs a little bit to think through things. Just go to her house, make sure she’s okay, but then give her space,” Hope said.
She looked at me, her expression stern.
“Space?” I said.
“Don’t be foolish, Enzo. You know Molly. You can’t try to push her. Just let her deal with this, and when she’s ready to talk to you, she will,” Hope said.
“You should listen to her,” Nico added.
“Sounds like a stupid idea,” I muttered.
But I knew they were right.
Molly was tough. That was for sure.
There was no way in the world she would talk until she was ready.
So I’d give her space.
I frowned, the very thought making me want to rebel.
But Molly needed to understand that this wasn’t over.
She’d get past it.
And until then, I’d wait.
But first, I walked to her place, determined to make sure she was okay.
I smiled as I looked up at the building.
Even with the peeling paint, the cracked third stair Molly always warned me about, the overall tired appearance, it felt like home because of her.
Anywhere would feel like home if Molly was there.
I knew this place wasn’t nearly nice enough for Molly.
But I preferred it to my own luxury penthouse.
Molly’s tiny apartment felt as close to home as I had experienced since I was a child, so I wouldn’t force her to leave it.
At least, not yet.
We’d get past this.
There was no other alternative.
So I’d pretend I was patient, keeping her close, and be ready to tell her how I felt.
I reached her building, prepared to knock on the door.
Noticed that it was broken again.
The frame I’d made sure was reinforced was splintered.
The knob was busted, hanging uselessly against the door.
“Franco!” I called out to the guard I’d put on Molly’s place.
Just inside the foyer, I saw him.
One of Don Carlo’s older soldiers.
Near retirement—so suited for the kind of protection detail Molly needed.
And I realized I had made a terrible mistake.
Because Franco was dead. And Molly was gone.