Chapter 22
DeeDee paced the length of her cramped apartment, her nails tapping anxiously against her phone screen as she scrolled through her messages. Nothing. No missed calls. No texts. Not even a random selfie from Enzo to show off whatever ridiculous stunt he was pulling that day.
It wasn’t like him to go silent. And he hadn’t been at any of his usual haunts the previous night. DeeDee knew that Enzo wasn’t the kind of man to stay home. He was a party animal, just like her.
So, where the hell was he?
She threw herself onto the couch, frustration bubbling into anger. Something wasn’t right. Enzo was many things—arrogant, obnoxious, a wannabe mafia big shot—but he wasn’t unreliable. Not with her. Never with her.
Her mind raced as she thought back to the night before. Enzo had gone to that fancy party. He hadn’t invited her, but that wasn’t unusual for his so-called “business” events. She’d brushed it off, assuming he’d call afterward, like he always did. But he hadn’t.
DeeDee narrowed her eyes, a surge of anger coursing through her veins. There was only one possibility: Enzo was with that bitch in the pink dress. A woman who dared try to outshine DeeDee—and that was unforgivable.
Rumors were already spreading, whispers about the "bimbo" Enzo had been flaunting like some kind of prize. DeeDee's fingers clenched around her phone, the plastic creaking beneath the pressure. That woman.
A quick call to one of Enzo’s trusted contacts gave her the confirmation she needed.
The woman in the pink dress wasn’t just anyone—she was Lexie Stacias.
The name alone made DeeDee’s blood run hot with fury.
She didn’t know Lexie, but it didn’t matter.
The woman had wormed her way into DeeDee’s life, into her world with Enzo, and DeeDee wasn’t going to let that slide.
Within minutes, DeeDee was in the driver’s seat of her beat-up car, the engine growling to life as she punched Lexie’s address into her GPS, the name now a bitter taste in her mouth.
The drive was tense, her knuckles stark white as she gripped the steering wheel, every turn of the tires building the heat in her chest.
Enzo wasn’t answering her calls, and it wasn’t because he was too busy—he had to be with her. He had to be at Lexie’s house. It was the only thing that made sense.
When she finally pulled up outside Lexie’s modest home, DeeDee parked across the street, her car idling as she scanned the property.
It was quiet. Too quiet. DeeDee’s eyes narrowed as she spotted the neatly trimmed bushes, the thrift-store lawn chair on the porch, and the cozy glow of a single light in the front window.
It was the kind of place that screamed normal.
Her fingers itched to throw open the car door and storm up to the house, but something stopped her.
A creeping sense of unease settled over her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
The house looked… off, somehow. It wasn’t just quiet.
It felt watched. Like someone was waiting for her to make a move.
DeeDee scanned the street again, her heart speeding up. Was someone inside? Watching her from behind those curtains? Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. Logic told her that if Enzo was in there, she needed to march up and find him. But instinct screamed at her to stay put.
She chewed her lip, indecision warring with determination. Enzo was hers. Whatever this Lexie woman thought she was doing, DeeDee wasn’t going to let her win. Not without a fight.
With one last glance at the house, she killed the engine and stepped out of the car. The cool night air washed over her as she crossed the street, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. She hesitated at the edge of the driveway, scanning the windows again. No movement. No shadows.
Still, the uneasy feeling in her gut wouldn’t leave her. It gnawed at her resolve, making her glance over her shoulder more than once. But DeeDee clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. She wasn’t leaving until she got answers. Until she found Enzo.
She crept up to the front porch, her ears straining for any sound from inside. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, her breath catching in her throat. Something told her to stop, to turn around, to leave. But DeeDee wasn’t the type to back down.
Not when it came to Enzo. Not when it came to her man.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and reached for the doorbell. The fight wasn’t over—not yet.