Chapter 21 #2
I whirl around, heart in my throat, and find Enzo sprawled on one of his immaculate white couches.
He’s got one long arm resting along the cushion back and a drink dangling from the fingertips of his other hand.
The tracery of tattoos is more pronounced with the white backdrop, and so is the stark contrast of his black suit and dark allure.
He looks deceptively at ease.
And I am so not calm.
“You’re home,” I say, forcing a smile. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
He cocks his head, watching me with an unnerving, icy stare. “No sushi waiting for me today?”
“Not today.”
“No home improvement projects I need to be made aware of?” he presses.
I sense something different about him. His jaw is tight, his expression hard. He oozes an underlying menace that reminds me of when he kidnapped me and held me hostage. It’s almost as if he knows something.
But what? Obviously, Antonio knows where I went today. But he wasn’t present for the private discussion I had with Misha.
Shit.
I left my purse on the counter when I came back. Did Enzo go through it while I was showering? Did he find the burner my brother gave me? Does he suspect what’s happened?
“Nope,” I answer, popping the p. “I paid a visit to my brother.”
“I know.” Enzo takes a long, slow drink from his glass, the ice cubes clinking together.
That’s all he says.
Nothing else.
I try not to squirm, standing there like an intruder in the place I’ve been expected to live.
Where all my things have been brought against my will.
How the hell did my life unravel so spectacularly in a matter of weeks?
I’ve gone from living the life I always dreamed of to having nothing.
No job, the career I’ve worked so hard to build abandoned and in tatters, forced to marry into the Mafia by my brother and now expected to kill for him.
“Is something wrong?” I ask hesitantly.
“I don’t know.” Enzo lifts the hand from the back of the sofa and runs it along his stubbled jaw. “You tell me.”
Now’s my chance to confide in him about Misha and his plan. About Svetlana. But Misha’s warning wraps around my heart like a vise.
There’s no getting out of this, Katya. If you try, first I’ll kill Svetlana, and then I’ll come for you.
I move closer to Enzo, fighting to stay calm as I nonchalantly seat myself on the opposite end of the couch, tucking my legs under me. “Are you angry that I visited Misha?”
“You’re not my prisoner here, Katya. You’re free to visit your brother whenever you want. All I ask is that you keep Antonio with you at all times.”
So maybe that’s what’s behind my husband’s suddenly chilly facade. The guard must have told him that he was forced to wait during my meeting in Misha’s office.
“Misha didn’t want Antonio listening in on private family business.”
“What kind of family business was it?”
“It was…” I pause, searching for an answer I can’t give, and lick my lips. “About Svetlana.”
And in a way, it was. I’m not lying.
Not any more than I’m lying about the burner phone in my purse.
Or lying by not telling him everything that happened today, revealing Misha’s threats.
I need time. I don’t know who—if anyone—I can trust. Mind-blowing sex doesn’t mean I can put my faith in Enzo with a matter of life and death.
There’s always the possibility he won’t believe me, or he’ll think I’m double-crossing him.
He has every reason to think my loyalties would lie with my brother instead of him. We barely know each other.
“What about your stepmom?” Enzo asks.
Damn it. Think, Katya. Think.
He leans forward suddenly and deposits his glass on the coffee table in front of him with a loud clink. Then he straightens and holds out his hand to me. “Come here.”
I stare at his extended hand, emotions at war inside me. Fear, confusion, and lust all battle for supremacy. Regardless of what went down with Misha, I can’t control my body’s reaction to Enzo now any more than I could this morning when he gave me two orgasms before he left for work.
I can’t kill this man.
I have to find a way out of this.
I get up and go to him like he wants, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me into his lap so that I’m straddling him. His cologne wraps around me, his heat burning into me. I’m wearing shorts and a tank, but I may as well be naked.
He settles my hand on his heart, and I feel it thumping. Feel how vital, how alive he is.
“Look at me, cara mia.”
I force my eyes to meet his.
“I saw the picture Sidorov sent you. The one of your stepmother carrying in her groceries.”
I stiffen. “You installed spyware on the phone you gave me?”
“Of course.”
I move to get off his lap, but he’s faster and stronger, his hands clamping on my waist to keep me there. “There’s this little thing called the expectation of privacy,” I bite out, struggling against his hold.
“It’s for your own safety, Katya. I need to know where you are at all times, who is contacting you, what they’re saying.”
“I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from the man who kidnapped me and held me hostage in the woods.”
“I told you, you’re mine to protect.” He’s completely unrepentant. “Let me protect you.”
“Yes, but not yours to control.”
“I never said I wanted to control you.”
“So you just want to know where I’m at every second of the day and analyze all my texts and calls. No alarm bells ringing there whatsoever.” I grab his wrists and try to pry his hands off me.
But it’s not working. He’s determined, and he’s strong. So damn strong.
“No, I want to keep you safe. I have powerful enemies. Including your bastard of a brother, who clearly sent you the picture of your stepmother to coerce you into meeting with him today.” He pauses, his gaze searching mine.
“Tell me the truth, Katya. Is he threatening Svetlana? Is that why you agreed to marry me?”
One picture, one text, and Enzo has put the pieces of the puzzle together. My stomach clenches.
“Let me go,” I demand, needing to get away.
To clear my head. To think without my husband’s hands on me and his big, powerful body under mine and his intoxicating scent destroying my ability to rationalize.
“I’m not letting you go. I’ll get the truth out of you, one way or another.”
But I can’t admit the threats Misha made against Svetlana, or the fact that he’s taken her and is holding her somewhere against her will, without revealing why.
“It’s between Misha and me.” I shove at his hands, desperate to get away.
“I don’t give a fuck if Mikhail Sidorov is Pakhan. If he’s threatening my wife, I want to know.” His voice is as hard as his expression. “I need to know, damn it. Tell me the truth.”
I want to explain everything to him. I want to believe Enzo can help me. That he can find Svetlana and get her to safety. But it’s too risky. I know Misha, and I know he wasn’t bluffing about killing my stepmother if I go against him.
“He wanted me to know he was watching her, but that’s all,” I lie. “You can never tell what Misha really wants. It’s all about power with him.”
That much is true, at least.
Enzo doesn’t release me. If anything, his grip on me tightens.
“Why would he want you to know he’s watching your stepmother?
There has to be a reason. He’s using Svetlana as leverage.
What does he want from you? Is it to watch me?
Is that why you’ve been so determined to find out more about our business? ”
“No,” I’m quick to deny. “That was because I wanted you to treat me like an equal. I didn’t want you to keep everything hidden from me.”
“Like you’re doing now, you mean?” His eyes have turned cold, his jaw rigid. “Tell me, Katya.”
I want to. I so badly want to confess everything to him. But I can’t.
Enzo’s still the enemy.
He releases me with one hand and wraps my wet hair around his fist, using it to pull my head back. “I’ll get it out of you however I have to.”
I should take it as a warning. I should really try to protect myself from what’s about to happen next. I can see it in Enzo’s eyes, feel it in the thick ridge of his cock underneath me.
But I don’t want to stop it.
“Go ahead,” I tell him defiantly. “Make me.”
“Fine. If this is how you want it.” While holding my hair tightly with one hand, he uses the other to drag my top down, taking my bra with it.
My breasts pop free, and he lowers his head, drawing a nipple in his mouth. My body’s reaction is instant. A rush of wetness floods my core.
“This isn’t how I want it,” I protest, afraid I’ll say too much. That I’ll reveal everything.
He flicks his tongue over the aching tip and gives my hair a warning tug. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”
“I don’t need your help.” I bite back a moan as he sucks on my other nipple.
He catches it in his teeth and tugs hard. I grind myself on his cock, trapped between us and separated from me by just a few layers of clothing. Suddenly, I’m craving the oblivion only he can give me. I need Enzo inside me, pounding into me, giving me no choice.
“It feels like you need my help, cara.” His voice is smug and knowing as he lets go of my shirt to slide his hand inside the waistband of my panties and shorts.
The breath leaves me as his fingers graze my clit.
“It feels like you need a lot of help.”
Oh God. It’s so wrong. I shouldn’t be this desperate for him. I should be able to resist him. But he swirls his touch over me with purposeful strokes that take me instantly higher.
I tell myself that I’m doing whatever I have to so that I can keep my husband’s trust and my brother’s. At least until I make a plan of my own to get Svetlana back from Misha. To protect her from him. To protect Enzo from him too.
Svetlana is safe for now. Misha won’t hurt her as long as I pretend to go along with his plot. And I can’t tell Enzo the truth. I need to bide my time with Enzo and my brother.
Enzo works my clit harder, and all thoughts of Misha fly away. I have no space left in my brain to think about anything else. There’s only my husband and what he’s doing to me.