Chapter 20
I’m starting to trust Enzo.
And that’s a real problem.
For the last few days, I’ve thrown everything at him—my attitude, my silence, my worst moods, every shitty defense mechanism I own. I’ve pushed, tested, and poked the soft spots I know he has.
He never left or snapped.
If I’m bratty, he fucks me until I forget my own name.
If I mock his gestures, he doubles them—bigger, louder, more unhinged.
If I ignore him, he pulls me into his lap and makes me talk.
I wanted to be his curse….turns out I already am.
But that doesn’t mean I’m done playing karma.
It’s almost ten. We’re still tangled in bed, warm and lazy under the covers, when I ask:
“What’s your biggest fear?”
His arm tightens around my waist instantly. “Why are you bringing that up?”
“Because I want to know what this dangerous, manly man is afraid of. Maybe he’ll seem more human than beast.”
“Mila.”
He uses his warning tone. His don’t-play-with-me tone. His goal is to intimidate me—but it makes me wet instead.
I turn in his arms so I can see his face. “I’m serious.”
He hates being vulnerable. Being seen. Finally, through clenched teeth, he mutters, “Heights.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
Too quick.
I drag a finger down his muscular chest. “Try again.”
Enzo Morelli—who would make the devil blink first—looks away.
“No.”
“Enzo.”
His eyes flick back to mine, furious and reluctant. “Snakes.”
I force myself not to laugh. “Snakes? Really?”
He narrows his eyes. “That’s all.”
I don’t change the subject. I know there’s something he’s not telling me.
With a sharp hiss, he admits, “Losing you.”
He holds my gaze like he’s daring me to laugh, to mock it, to turn it into a weapon. I don’t. Instead, I divert the conversation, not wanting to make him uncomfortable after admitting something that warms my chest.
“So,” I say, “we’re going to face those fears today. Only the first two.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
I kiss his jaw. “Come on.”
“Without the last one,” he growls.
“Without the last one,” I agree.
We end up at the bungee jump.
He’s still all alpha-male I’ve got this, but I see the tension in his shoulders. He refuses to stand behind me; he insists on standing in front of me, as if he can block the fall with his body.
“Don’t you dare smirk,” he snarls.
“I’m not,” I lie.
He steps to the edge with me. His hand finds my waist—possessive, protective, shaking just slightly.
“You don’t have to do it,” I whisper.
“That’s the problem,” he says. “For you, I do. I’d do anything you ask… except letting you go.”
I don’t have time to swoon at his words, because he jumps, taking me with him. My heart drops, then launches itself into my throat. It’s exhilarating. I’ve never really been afraid of heights. He shouts something that sounds suspiciously like fuck mixed with I love you, but the wind steals it.
By the time we’re lowered back down, his hands are everywhere—checking me, touching me, cupping my face like I almost died.
Next stop: the reptile place.
The handler hands me a snake, and I hold it easily. Enzo goes rigid beside me.
“Don’t,” he warns.
“Don’t what?” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this—but don’t come closer.”
I take one step closer. “Want to hold it?” I ask sweetly.
“No.”
“Want it to kiss you?” I move my hand side to side, the snake dancing with me.
“Mila, I swear to—fuck—don’t put it near me—”
I laugh.
When the handler offers him a smaller one, he takes it.
His hands tremble. But he takes it.
Because I asked.
Because he’d burn for me if I told him to.
Because he’s done pushing me away—pushing us away.
When we finally leave, he grabs my chin and kisses me hard—angry, breathless, obsessed.
“Happy?” he mutters against my lips.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he whispers darkly. “Because tonight? It’s my turn to test you.”
My entire body hums. I doubt there’s anything he can do that I won’t like—except leaving. Or pushing me away again.
The moment we’re back in the car, Enzo slams the door a little too hard, startling me. His chest is still rising fast.
“Why did you do that?”
I shrug, buckling my seatbelt. “Do what?” I pretend to think. “Hmm… let’s see. Dragging you off a bridge? Forcing you to hold a snake? Because when something feels out of your control. Men like you—” I gesture at him. “You love control. The second you don’t have it, you bolt.”
“And?” he asks. “What did you figure out?”
“That apparently you’re not running.”
His eyes darken. He starts the engine without breaking eye contact. We drive in silence for a few minutes, the tension thick—but not the bad kind.
The charged kind.
“This isn’t the way to my apartment,” I say when he takes a right instead of a left.
“I know.”
“Uh… where are we going?”
“My place.”
“Why?” I mumble.
“Because you tortured me all day.”
A pause.
“And now it’s my turn.”
His hand leaves the wheel and grabs my thigh. Hard.
“I’m going to see if you’ll try to run when I show you just how obsessed I am with you… not that I’d let you anyway.”