Page 38 of The Enforcer

Zoe

I’m still sore.

I wish I could soak in a tub or that I’d had the wherewithal to pack some Bengay or a massage bar or something. Anything. Because after another lukewarm — almost cold — shower, I’m beginning to worry that I’ll feel like this forever. I hurt so much that I groan when I lower my body onto the couch.

“Sore?” Alfonso asks, walking back into the living room, the smell of a sweet-salty body wash following him.

His question is nice, but the smile on his face is filthy.

I love filth. I appreciate a man who can make damn near every sentence a dirty suggestion, especially if he knows how to follow through. Or if he can be taught.

I wonder which one Alfonso is, and then I glare at him because I’m not supposed to be thinking about any of that.

“No,” I spit out.

He laughs.

Someone knocks at the door, and we both turn toward it.

“Get behind me,” he says in a hard voice.

Even though it grates my entire soul, I do as he says. I don’t want to die. I can stand my feminist ground later.

I move deep into the living room, as far away from the windows as I can get. Alfonso eases toward the door. He mutters a frustrated curse under his breath because he can’t see who’s on the other side.

The person knocks again and then yells in Italian.

Alfonso’s shoulders sag, and he smiles, reaching for the doorknob. He barely gets it open before another man rushes inside and wraps him in a hug.

Obviously, this is one of Alfonso’s other brothers. I’d thought Nicola looked a lot like him, but this man could be his twin; he’s bigger and more broad-shouldered, his skin is a tanned brown as if he spends his time in the sun without sunscreen, a round belly — a bit smaller than Alfonso’s — but long, thick legs, and a surprisingly juicy ass. Must be all the steps. Not that I’m looking. They hug and kiss each other’s cheeks and speak rapidly over one another’s words. It reminds me of Zahra, Shae, and I under normal circumstances. I reach into my back pocket and pull up the group chat between the three of us, the one Zahra had been avoiding for weeks — since before the wedding.

Actually, Shae had been avoiding it as well, maybe since she got back from Italy. And since I’ve seen her with Salvatore, I can understand why.

And I hadn’t been avoiding it per se, but when Zahra and I fell out because I knew she could do better than Ryan’s bitch ass and I was the only one with the guts to tell her, I wasn’t in the mood to kiki in our sister group chat and pretend like everything was normal. And I guess when I was proven right, and my little sister’s life fell apart, she didn’t really want to kiki with me either.

I wonder how long we might have gone without speaking if the Council hadn’t sent me here.

“Let me introduce you,” Alfonso says.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and smile at them as best I can; like I haven’t, maybe, just ripped a band-aid off a wound that hasn’t yet scabbed over.

“Zoe, this is my brother, Ugo. He’s younger than me.”

Ugo pushes his brother’s shoulder, but he’s holding his waist, so it’s all for show. I find that incredibly endearing and decide that, of all his brothers, I think I’ll like Ugo the best.

I walk toward them, and Ugo lets go of Alfonso to offer me his hand. “Only nine months,” he says. “We’re basically twins.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I exclaim as our hands meet.

Ugo might look like Alfonso, but I quickly learn that their personalities are very different. He’s warm and a bit awkward, only managing to make eye contact every now and then. And he doesn’t flirt with me. I feel more comfortable with him by the moment.

“Who told you I was here?” Alfonso asks.

Ugo’s face falls. “Matilde,” he says apologetically.

Alfonso rolls his eyes. “So, mamma knows?”

He nods. “I didn’t tell her when I found out. I figured you would let us know on your own time. But Matilde must have told mamma. As soon as she woke up, she sent me here to come fetch you.”

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