Page 67 of SINS & Lies

My steps grind to a halt as I digest Enzo’s words. Adding insult to injury, he’s not just returning me. He’s also head over heels in love with another woman—a drop-dead gorgeous stunner, by the way—which only rubs salt in a big, gaping wound.

And apparently, Enzo’s way of wooing his beloved involves parading my dog around like a muppet. It would actually be ridiculously adorable if it didn’t make me want to projectile vomit all over his plush private jet.

The man just spent the better part of three hours pleasuring me to the point of carpel tunnel, and now he loves her? What am I? His fluffer?

Ugh. Never mind that he’s about to return me to Andre, and by extension, Rocco.

Though that could explain why he didn’t actually seal the deal? Because fucking me with his dick is off-limits?

I’d rather die than let Rocco touch me again.

I take a deep, thoughtful breath. Admittedly, going head-to-head with a dangerous thug isn’t exactly smart. Especially considering I can’t exactly catch the next bus home.

Not that I give a damn about what happens to me. My sole focus is Riley. Stay calm.

I struggle to keep my fists at bay, the expensive fabric of his smoking jacket bearing the brunt of my clenched hands. Because when my mind buckles beneath the crushing weight of emotional overload, restraint isn’t an option.

Like my father used to say, “Hell hath no fury like a Scottish lass scorned.”

But before I unleash raw rage all over his D’Angelo ass, the beautiful blonde on FaceTime catches sight of me. “Who’s that?” she asks, her blue eyes wide.

Enzo whirls around, with the woman on the phone in one hand and Truffles in the other.

I bat my eyes and wonder just how he’ll explain me away—the half-naked mistress to his unsuspecting love. “Yes, Enzo, who am I?”

Instantly, Enzo flashes an unexpected grin, my dog looks oblivious, and the woman on the screen appears to be ecstatic. Sheesh, I guess someone’s expecting a hefty settlement in their divorce proceedings.

His gaze pierces mine. “I’ll call you back,” he says to the woman. With a decisive click, he silences her protests. As he drops Truffles onto the chair and strides into my personal space, his gaze intensifying. “You’re up.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

A smirk dances across his lips, revealing a dimple. “Glad you finally got the memo.”

I keep my arms tightly crossed against my chest. First, he lies about settling Jimmy’s debt, and now he’s spinning even more lies to whoever the hell that was—wife, girlfriend, favorite mistress. Ugh. I don’t know, and I don’t care. Instead, I demand, “Take me home.”

His smirk morphs into a grin. “No.”

This man makes me thermonuclear.

I push into his space, jabbing a finger right into his solid chest, emphasizing every word. “I said Take. Me. Home. Now!”

He settles into a seat, thoroughly amused. “And I said no.” My treacherous dog hops onto his lap.

I’m about to really lay into him when the flight attendant interrupts with that sickly sweet voice of hers. “Champagne?”

“No,” I bark.

“Yes, thank you.” Enzo accepts the glass, then pets Truffles. The idiot looks every bit of an evil villain with his pampered pet. “Ms. Luciano needs one,” Enzo adds smugly.

“He’s right, Ms. Luciano,” the flight attendant says. I’m two seconds from giving both of them two big, fat pieces of my mind when she adds, “It’s our last service before we land.”

Land?

Just then, the plane jerks roughly, sending my heart thumping as I scramble to my seat. The flight attendant clicks the seatbelt in as if I’m a toddler.

“Mullvain,” I breathe, tightening my belt until I can’t feel my legs.

“Sorry?” she asks.

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