Chapter 17
seventeen
TOMMAS
The scent of melted cheese and pepperoni hung in the air, mixing with the faint traces of Dimitri’s sandalwood, Marco’s leather, Gio’s earth, and Kit’s ethereal moss. I sank deeper into the couch, nursing my beer as I watched my Omega curl up between Dimitri and Marco, her head resting lightly against Marco’s shoulder. Dark hair spilled across his chest like ink, and for once, Kit looked completely at peace. No nightmares. No panic attacks. No moments where we’d catch her staring into nothing, that haunted look in her eyes that made my chest ache. Tonight was just about making her feel normal.
“Gimme another slice,” Kit demanded, her fingers making grabby motions toward the coffee table. Her voice carried that soft lilt that had become music to my ears.
Marco snorted, reaching for the box. “Jesus, woman. Where the hell do you put it all? You’re like half my size.”
“Believe it or not, pizza nights were a rarity growing up. I’m making up for lost time,” she teased, snatching her fifth piece like an adorable little gremlin and humming happily as she took a bite.
Dimitri’s arm tightened around her waist, his thumb tracing soothing circles against her hip. These subtle gestures had become our new language, the way we comforted her, showed her how much we cared. Kit released a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the couch, wiggling between my brothers until she was curled up, comfortable, and happy.
We’d ordered eight different pizzas for the five of us, enough food to feed a small army. With the kitchen in the middle of being torn apart and renovated, we had to rely heavily on takeout. So far, pizza night seemed to be Kit’s favorite. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her eat so much in one sitting, and I fuckin’ loved watching her hum and moan to herself as she devoured the cheesy goodness.
Apparently, pizza and a movie were exactly what my girl needed. The massive TV mounted on the wall played some ridiculous romantic comedy she’d picked—all drama and romance. Marco had groaned when she chose it, but his complaints died the moment she’d looked up at him with those ice-blue eyes.
We were all wrapped around her little finger, and none of us minded one bit.
A knock at the door drew my attention. Dimitri’s shoulders tensed for just a fraction of a second before he relaxed again. Even in our own home, safety was never guaranteed. Not completely.
“It’s Enzo,” Giovanni called out as he strode to the door after peeking at the security feed on his phone.
Gio opened the door, and Enzo stepped inside, bringing with him the scent of the city and that faint cologne he always wore to enhance his bergamot scent. He clapped Giovanni on the shoulder in greeting.
“Check-in time already?” Dimitri asked, his tone casual, but I caught the subtle undercurrent. Business was never far from D’s mind, even on nights like this.
Enzo shrugged, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Kit. His gaze lingered for a heartbeat too long before he turned to Dimitri. “Just wanted to give you the latest update on the Moretti situation. Thought it might be better in person.”
“You eaten yet?” I asked, gesturing to the mountain of pizza boxes. “We’ve got plenty.”
Dimitri nodded toward the couch. “Stay. Have a beer. We’re taking the night off.”
Enzo hesitated, rubbing the scar on his cheek—that tell he had when he was thinking. “You sure I’m not intruding on family time?” His eyes flicked to Kit again.
“Don’t be stupid,” Giovanni said, pressing a cold beer into Enzo’s hand. “Sit your ass down.”
Enzo had been one of our closest friends since we were teenagers. He wasn’t blood, but after everything we’d been through—the wars, the truces, the bullets we’d dodged together—he might as well have been. And Kit had warmed up to him quickly, which was saying something, given that there were few people she trusted in this world.
“You’re just in time to suffer through this movie with us. Case in point.” Marco motioned toward the T.V., throwing his head back with an exaggerated groan when the couple kissed on screen. To be honest, none of us had a problem indulging our Omega and watching a chick flick, but it was fun as hell to tease her.
Kit smacked his arm. “It’s adorable, you Neanderthal. You have no taste.”
Enzo chuckled, settling into the empty space on the far end of the L-shaped sectional. Close enough to be part of the group, but still maintaining a respectful distance from Kit. He’d always been careful around her, understanding her boundaries without needing to be told. It was one of the things I’d always appreciated about him.
“So, what are we watching?” he asked, taking a pull from his beer.
“Don’t get her started,” Marco warned.
“The Notebook. It’s a classic,” Kit defended.
“It’s something…” Giovanni rebutted playfully, dropping into the armchair across from us.
I watched as Kit’s lips quirked up in that small, secret smile of hers. These moments of normalcy still seemed to surprise her—like she couldn’t quite believe she was allowed to have opinions, to tease, to be the center of attention in a way that didn’t end in pain or hardship of some kind.
The movie played on, all teary confessions and sweeping orchestral swells—pure emotional strife in vintage dresses. Kit demolished her fifth slice of pizza, another small victory.
Licking the sauce off her thumb, she sank deeper into the couch with a contented sigh, patting her stomach. “I kind of feel bad for you, ‘Zo.”
He cocked his head. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”
My jaw ticked. Sweetheart? Since when did he have a nickname for her? I shot a look toward Marco, whose brow arched in silent agreement—he’d clocked it, too. Something territorial sparked in my gut, even though I knew Enzo wasn’t a threat. Still. Lines.
“I know you work all the time,” Kit said, completely unaware of the silent exchange, “and when you finally do take a night off, you’re here with us watching The Notebook. Doesn’t really seem like your speed.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief; that playful side of her we’d been seeing more of lately. It made me want to both grin and pull her onto my lap.
Enzo took a long sip of his beer. “You assume I don’t love sobbing over star-crossed lovers and emotionally devastating rain scenes.”
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, the sarcasm dripping like honey. “I’m sure you love to knit and read romance novels, too.”
Enzo leaned back into the couch, arms stretched wide like he owned the place. “Sure as fuck do. Almost done knitting myself a scarf to keep me warm during our brutal New York winters. It’s a whole vibe.”
She giggled— giggled —and it hit me square in the chest. That sound had become one of my favorite things in the world.
“Be serious,” she pressed, tucking her feet beneath her. “I bet you had better options tonight than movie night with me and my Alphas.”
Marco snorted. “You think Enzo turned down plans for this? Please. Our boy’s idea of ‘plans’ is spontaneously texting ‘U up?’ at 2 a.m.”
Enzo flipped him off. “Choke on your slice, you smug bastard.”
Dimitri raised an eyebrow, all cool authority. “When was the last time you actually went on a date ?”
Enzo exaggerated a thoughtful look. “What year is it again?”
Kit’s laugh rang out, light and easy. “I refuse to believe it’s been that long.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to find a woman worth slowing down for. And between keeping these guys from getting themselves killed and making sure the business doesn’t burn to the ground, I’m not exactly flush with free time.”
Kit’s expression softened. “That sounds… kind of lonely.”
“I’m alright, Kit. Don’t worry about me.” He tipped his bottle toward the rest of us. “You’ve got your hands full enough with this crew.”
“I think they’re the ones with their hands full,” she muttered, smile faltering.
That got our attention. All four of us straightened subtly, tension threading through the room.
“What do you mean by that, Butterfly?” I asked carefully.
She hesitated, then exhaled, like the words were pushing their way out whether she wanted them to or not. “I’ve brought a lot of trouble into your lives. You didn’t ask for this—constant security, being on edge all the time. You’re stuck inside with me more days than not. I know I’ve… changed things.”
“No offense,” I said gently, “but that’s bullshit.”
All three of my brothers nodded their agreement.
“We’re not stuck , Kit,” I continued. “We’re home. And that’s because of you.”
She blinked, lips parting like she wasn’t sure what to say.
“You guys used to have active social lives,” she said softly. “Parties, poker nights, the club. And now…” She looked around the room. “You’re eating pizza and watching a Nicholas Sparks movie.”
Giovanni leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You think we’d rather be anywhere else?” His tone was soft but sure. “Dolcezza, I’d pick this night—this couch, this movie, with you —a hundred times over.”
Dimitri captured her chin, turning and tilting her face until she was looking up at him. “You didn’t stifle our lives, Kit. You made them mean something.”
She nodded, but her eyes glistened, another invisible crack in her armor. “It just feels like I’m the reason everything’s changed.”
“Everything has changed,” Marco said. “But not in the way you think. You didn’t take anything from us. You just made us realize what actually matters.”
There was a beat of silence. Heavy, warm.
Her gaze dropped, lashes brushing her cheeks as she pulled in a breath. “I know you all say that… and I believe you. I do. But if I’m feeling the strain of being stuck inside all the time, I can’t help wondering if you guys feel it, too.” She glanced at each of us, worry etched across her brow. “I mean, I’m an Omega—being kept inside is something I’m used to. Being sequestered is practically the law. But you’re Alphas. You used to go wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Isn’t that hard to give up?”
My ‘no’ resonated through the room right alongside my brothers’.
Kit huffed a laugh and shook her head. “You guys are too much.”
“‘Nah, Butterfly. We’re just right.” I shot her a wink, loving the pink infusion in her cheeks.
Giovanni leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on Kit. “You feeling cooped up, Dolcezza? Being here all the time?”
She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt—that nervous tic she had when she was trying to be honest without hurting anyone’s feelings. “Sometimes,” she admitted quietly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, this place is beautiful, but...”
“But four walls are still four walls,” Dimitri finished for her, his thumb resuming those soothing circles against her hip.
Enzo’s easy charm slid into place like a well-worn pair of jeans. “Maybe you should go for another drive? Take that gorgeous new car for another spin and get out of the penthouse for a bit. Rolling down the windows and blasting some music always does the trick for me.”
The room stilled for a second—just long enough to notice. My fingers tightened around the neck of my beer, and I glanced toward Marco. Had he brought security with him when he’d left the safety of the penthouse with our Omega?
Dimitri lifted his beer to his lips, taking a slow, measured sip. To anyone else, it would look casual. But I caught the way his eyes flicked toward Enzo, just for a fraction of a second. A subtle shift in his weight, an almost imperceptible narrowing of his gaze.
D didn’t miss anything, and I wondered if his thoughts had wandered the same direction as mine.
I was pretty damn sure Enzo hadn’t been working security detail the day Marco took Kit out, and the reason I knew that was because he’d pulled an all-nighter on guard duty that evening. Had he heard about the drive from someone else? Or... was he watching Kit more closely than any of us realized?
Was it possible that he had a thing for her? Or was I totally off base?
“Oh.” Kit blinked, her eyes widening slightly. “I did take the Bugatti for a drive with Marco.” A second wave of pink stained her cheeks.
I noted it instantly, filing it away.
“It was really, really fun, but I can’t drive his car every day…”
“Why not?” ‘Zo shrugged. “Maybe it should be a daily habit if it helps combat that pent up feeling.”
“You can take Veronica out anytime, Angel,” Marco told her. “My only request is that you never go out alone. Not because I’m worried about the car, but because I’m worried about you .”
“Rules to live by.” Enzo tipped his beer her way. “Never go anywhere alone. It’s not safe out there for an Omega, especially an unbonded one. If the guys are ever busy, you can always ask me to tag along as your personal security detail.”
Gio’s brow was furrowed, and Marco caught my eye across Kit’s head, his eyebrow raising in silent question. Huh. So, I definitely wasn’t the only one questioning his motives.
All of us seemed to catch something… but the question was what .
I exhaled slowly, pushing the thought aside. Maybe I was overthinking. Ever since getting shot, my gut had been off, a side effect of nearly dying, I guessed. I spent too much time in my own head, doubting things I normally wouldn’t second-guess.
The conversation morphed and continued around me, but Kit’s gaze locked on mine.
“You okay?” she whispered, looking up at me with those clear, empathetic blue eyes.
I gave her an easy smile. “Just tired, Butterfly.” It was a white lie, but a necessary one. Now wasn’t the time to delve into where my head had gone.
Her yawn couldn’t have been more perfectly timed. She covered her mouth as it stretched open, then closed with an adorable little tired sigh. “Same. I guess that’s what happens when you eat half a pizza and are warm and cozy with your pack.”
I chuckled. “See? A perfect evening.”
The movie droned on in the background, but no matter how much I tried to invest in the love story, I couldn’t focus on it. Kit stayed nestled between my brothers, her breathing gradually evening out, her eyes growing heavy. Dimitri watched her with soft eyes, the kind of tenderness he only ever showed her. Marco kept his hand on her ankle, that gentle, grounding touch he knew she needed. Giovanni had moved to sit closer, all of us like magnets, gradually drifting into her orbit.
All except Enzo, who remained at the edge of our little bubble, observing.
“Anyone want another beer?” my friend asked, pushing himself up from the couch.
“I can grab them,” Giovanni offered.
“Nah, I got it. You guys stay put. Kit looks comfortable.”
I watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. He knew our home like his own. Hell, he’d practically grown up with us. But that didn’t make him pack…
Right?
Kit’s breathing had deepened. Cradled up against Dimitri’s side, nestled in the crook of his arm with her legs over Marco’s lap, she’d finally let herself fall into a deep, contented sleep.
Enzo returned with beers, passing them around before settling back into his spot. “She out?” he asked, nodding toward Kit.
“Yeah,” I whispered, not wanting to wake her. “Been having trouble sleeping lately.”
“Can’t be easy. After everything she’s been through.” Enzo shook his head, his expression pinched, almost guilty, like he alone was responsible for the break in our security that night. Like he shouldered the responsibility for what happened.
“Yeah. Her nightmares are a bitch.” Gio scrubbed a hand down his face, clearly worried about her. “I’m glad she’s finally resting.”
“I should head out,” Enzo said finally, setting his bottle on the coffee table. “Early day tomorrow.”
Dimitri nodded, his expression unreadable. “Text me updates on the Moretti situation.”
“Will do, boss.” Enzo stood, stretching his arms above his head. “Thanks for dinner. And the company.” His eyes lingered on Kit for a moment before he turned to leave. “Take care of her.”
“Always,” Marco said, steady as ever. Not just because she needed protecting—because she was ours to protect.
Gio got to his feet and walked Enzo to the door. I stared after them, watching as he laughed at something Gio said. For a moment, everything felt normal.
And then it didn’t.
As Enzo left, a seed of doubt had been planted, and no matter how much I tried to bury it, I knew it was going to grow.
Something was up with Enzo, and if I was right… it was his feelings for Kit.