Chapter Eighteen
ENZO
"What the fuck, Lyndall?"
She dumps her bags. "I'm early."
"No shit." I grab the bags and follow her into my kitchen.
She is two days early.
I agreed, Monday, on the phone, to allow her to come and stay with me over the weekend.
She will want to stay and travel to school when semester break is over, but while that is fine with me, we would have to do some acrobatics with how it will work.
Of course, there are kids who travel by train upstate to and from school. More do it on weekends. And I'm going to suggest we ease into it.
Dad will be easier to handle that way.
I will have Lyndall on weekends, and she stays at school during the week.
Of course, Lyndall will hate that. And Dad might put his foot down.
I can see a great disaster happening if I don't do this right. He has the power over her, ultimately, as he is her father. But he might use this as a way to attempt to control me, too.
And she...well, she is fucking fifteen, so who knows how many time bombs are in her. She is about ready to go off in a wildfire storm of teen turning adult.
Which, no matter how much Lyndall wants to be of age, she has a few years.
I sigh and take the bottle of booze she is reaching for.
"Enzo—"
"Fuck, no. If your being here is an excuse to act out, I will have Dad send a car for you. You're underage, and you will follow my rules and the law in general. Capisce?"
She rolls her eyes, mutters something, and nods.
"Good. Now, go watch TV or read a book."
Her cheeks turn red, and she sort of hunches down a little like someone let the air out of her, and my heart hurts.
"Lyndall, it is a work night and...I won't bore you with it, but I need to prep for the rest of the week, so if you can entertain yourself in a G-rated way, I'd fucking love it."
"Just don't send me back, okay?"
It is on the tip of my tongue to use that as a bargaining tool, but I don't. There is something stinging the air. "What happened?"
"Dad's an asshole, that's what happened." She pulls out one of the stools and sits, putting her head in her hands as she rests at the island.
I frown and take a sip of my whiskey. "Dad's always an asshole."
"We had a fight."
I wait, but she doesn't volunteer more, and I don't ask.
I remember fights like that, things that escalate from nothing to everything. And still they feel like you are being strangled and suffocated while the world ends.
"Okay, you can stay. Watch something. You know all the streaming passwords. I've got work, and I need to call Dad."
I head to my study.
Sunday night is far from my memory. I have been scarce at work, not because I'm playing games with the hottest thing I have seen get herself off in my life, but because I'm trying to piece the past together and see why someone is interested in Lola.
Cade is working his end, and Silas is looking into things I throw his way.
Today was hard. In more ways than one.
I'm aware my little kink-fest fantasy, where I pretended to be someone else to make her masturbate over me, has affected Lola at work. God, I can think of a few people who would have a field day with what I did.
She is skittish and distracted. But not once did her phone come out.
I really wanted to confiscate it.
Of course, Alex has her address now. He asked for it Monday, made it a game, and I sent some red roses to her. Not particularly a unique move, but I don't want her to fall for my alter ego.
I don't want her to fall for me either, but I want her to want me more.
My ego is fucked up.
With a sigh, I set my drink down at my desk, where I had been working when Lyndall came knocking. Thank fuck I wasn't in the basement where I do my work for the Syndicate.
I sit and get my phone, calling Dad.
"Enzo?"
The irritation and pleasure mixed in his voice irk me, like I'm beneath him, but he is sure this call is me crawling back to the family business.
"Dad, I just wanted you to know Lyndall's safe."
"Why wouldn't she be?"
I ignore him. "She's here now, and she will stay with me through to the end of the weekend."
"Those were the plans..." He pauses. "What do you mean she's there now?"
"She ran away from you, Dad. Didn't you fucking notice?"
"Watch your mouth, boy." There is a dark cloud of silence, full of ominous pressure. "I will send a car."
"Yeah, well, I think maybe it's best to let her cool off."
"That girl needs to be taught a lesson. She is going back to school now. I don't have time for her childish games."
I rub my eyes. "Don't. Or you will have two kids who don't want to be part of your... business."
I was going to say life, but I don't. It might just cause bigger problems.
"She can come back here—"
"I think time apart will be good. For both of you. Okay?"
He huffs. "We will talk Monday."
I turn off the phone.
"Enzo?"
"Yeah?" I look up. Lyndall is in the doorway, and she edges into the room.
"He said yes?"
"He didn't say no."
She nods and pulls down books, sliding them back after flipping through them.
Then Lyndall spies my desk, her eyes lighting up at the papers and photos on it. Namely, the photos of Lola.
She picks one up. "Pretty."
"Put that down."
"Is she your girlfriend?" And my sister snatches up some others, too.
I grab the rest, including the papers I have spread out, and push them all together.
I'm not sure what is going on, but I want Lyndall even more in the dark than I am. I want her knowing nothing. Not even who Lola is.
But she has locked onto the dark-haired beauty and is now standing there, a photo held up in the air as she looks from me to the picture and back again.
I lunge for them, but she backs up.
"I can see you together." Then she looks at some of the others she has. These are from Silas and taken with a telescopic lens. "Unless...is she a rando you're stalking?"
She doesn't recognize Lola, which isn't surprising. Lyndall was tiny when the Mancini family was in our lives.
But I also don't like how sharp my sister is, or how close to the truth she is hitting.
"Work. She's work-related. And it is none of your business."
She clamps her lips together, and her gaze crashes into mine. "Really?"
Shit, I don't want to upset Lyndall. "Yes, look—"
"Work-related, huh? I thought you'd bought some flailing startup."
"It's part of a bigger business."
Her lips curl up. "You didn't buy the whole thing from what Dad says, just the flailing startup. His words."
Fuck my father, anyway.
"You have the room you usually use. You know where everything is. So, go do something with your time that doesn't involve me, stop giving me shit, or I will take you right back to Dad."
She winces. "Ouch. Calm down, big bro." Then Lyndall sighs. "I miss the days when I could give you shit, and you'd take it."
"It's called placating a small brat."
She scowls. "We'd hang out all the time."
"It felt like all the time because you were a kid. And I hadn't told Dad I wasn't following in his footsteps." I get up, go to her, taking the photos as I ruffle her hair. "And you as a kid were easier to take shit from. You're a teenager and a scary one."
"I'm not scary."
"Uh-huh. Pretty, precocious, and talented. And you might just take off for real. Honestly, you're showing me glimpses of grown-up Lyndall." Then I groan. "You're growing up too fast. I dread the day when you discover boys."
She laughs. "I'm not a baby. I even have a boyfriend."
My blood pressure shoots up high. "You're at boarding school."
"The worst place. All the girls have boyfriends or girlfriends."
"You're a baby." I growl the words.
"I'm sixteen."
"Fifteen."
"The same thing."
"What's his name? How old is he? I'm going to kill him."
Her eyes flash. "See, I get that you're joking, but it is not funny, considering our family is regularly in the business of killing people. Besides, I'm sixt—"
She catches my glower.
"I'm hardly a kid anymore."
"Don't I know it. Now, go do G-rated fun, which means TV or books, and no boyfriends on my watch."
Lyndall goes to speak back but considers me and nods, scampering off to the living room.
I look at my glass.
I'm going to need a double or four.
Fuck.
The house is quiet, and I can't hear the TV or music from Lyndall's room. She is probably asleep.
I hope she is asleep.
I gather my things and head downstairs, locking the door behind me. I know what I want to do, and if Cade finds out, he will either give me hell or freak out since this is our workspace.
But my laptop is not secure, not even with my passwords and security measures. I don't think Lyndall is near my skill level, but you never know. Kids these days...
Besides, I use my laptop at Barwon and don't particularly feel like getting caught with the video feed of Lola's apartment on it.
I bring it up.
She is on her bed, reading one of the filthy books she has, and her laptop is next to her, shining a bluish light on her that flickers and changes. Movie or music is my guess.
I lean back in my chair and start typing on my phone.
Me
Still up?
Lola
Of course.
The way she sits up is electric.
She is buzzing. And her nipples are hard, which makes me hard.
Me
Regretting giving me your address?
Lola
Should I? The roses are beautiful.
Me
Roses for a rose.
She laughs and rolls her eyes at the hokey comment.
Me
Don't roll your eyes at me, or I will put you over my knees.
The moment I press send, I realize my mistake. And as she reads it, so does she.
Fuck...
Lola goes still and pulls her covers up, whipping her head around the room.
Lola
How did you know I rolled my eyes?
My heart is racing and adrenaline is pumping fast.
Okay, I need to calm down. I can outright deny it or just tell her.
And as I think, it is clear there is only one option. But I need to play it as me.
Me
Would you believe me if I told you I guessed?
She types furiously.
Lola
You're spying on me.
Me
Is it spying if you're turned on?
Her cheeks flush darker.
Lola
I'm not.
How?
Me
Do you really want the answer to that?
Lola