Page 102 of SINS & Temptation

Enzo finishes reading to the girls, his voice morphing into so many characters I’m convinced he’s been secretly taking acting lessons. “When are you coming home?” Sofia asks, her pouty lips trembling.

Enzo’s face goes ghostly pale, but before he can say a word, I jump in. “Soon. Very, very soon.” We say our goodnights and the girls disconnect. Regret etches itself into every line of his features. I kiss him and say, “I know what you need.”

Then, I grab a stack of photos and hand them to him. His expression hardens instantly. “Burn those,” he orders.

“Look at them,” I insist. “Figure out what’s wrong with them.”

“Other than they’re seriously fucked up?”

“Just do it.”

After twenty minutes, he tosses his hands back and gives up. “I need a clue.”

I show him another picture. Upside down this time to see if that helps. “Better?”

“Perhaps if I were Picasso.”

Reluctantly, he examines another one as we feed each other ice cream. I force him through it, picture after picture. None of these are overly suggestive, but they all have the same glaring error.

When I hand him the next one, he refuses. “Enzo, I promised you that none of these photos can ever hurt me.”

He puffs out a breath. “One hint,” he insists.

I smile and move my lips to his ear, feeling his arms wrap tightly around me. I whisper the hint, the clue that’s been right in front of his face all along. “Da’s last words.”

It takes a minute, but when his mouth curves into a slow, knowing smile, I know he gets it. He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to.

Da’s words are with us both.

She’s my heart.

Chapter Forty-Three

ENZO

After a stroll through a metal detector and satisfying pat down, we march into the fray. The crowd is amped up, their roar like a war cry. Each of my brothers moves into position while I size up my opponents.

Yup. Four fucking tanks. From Uncle Andre, I’d expect no less.

Uncle Andre steps over to me as I’m about to enter the cage. “Don’t fall too fast. I’ve got eight figures on this game. Nine if you can last at least twenty minutes.” He chuckles. “And your bet?”

I smirk. “Ooh, I’m betting that when this is all over, the look on your face will be like you’ve been fucked up the ass with a battering ram.” The words wipe the smug grin right off his face. “Will you be up in VIP?”

The VIP box at the top has everything he needs. Booze. Coke. Bullet-proof glass.

But it’s not him I’m taking down today. It’s this entire fucking game.

I step into the cage. The door clangs shut behind me.

Just before the buzzer goes off, Diaz pipes my mic into the system, and my earpiece transmits everything I say. “Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention?”

The feral crowd quiets, a ripple of confusion spreading through them.

My uncle’s frown deepens.

“The game is permanently ended.”

Curious murmurs ripple through the crowd, quickly followed by boos and jeers. Someone even throws a piece of meat at me. What is that? Wagyu?

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