Page 58 of Bad Little Bride

He said tonight was our night, yet Enzo and I were seen together for a total of thirty minutes, his attention locked on Katana like she was a flight risk he was afraid of losing.

Dinner was a silent event and used as a way to move the evening along; the speeches going on in the background, because no one really cared to listen.

We left the moment Enzo wrote out a check the damn crown-of-thorns starfish would never see a cent of. Them and four dozen other filthy rich men. Honestly, these fake little money washing fundraisers are as basic as they are brilliant.

To my surprise, Katana wasn’t in our car on the ride home, but rather the one ahead of us. Guess he was worried I might make a go at her throat.

Fuck them both.

If I wanted to kill her with that blade, she would be dead. Period.

If my father taught me anything firsthand, it was how to win in the game ofwho gets to keep breathingif it came to that.My aim is as accurate as a bee’s cues to pollen.

Katana is family, Enzo had said. Rocklin thinks she’s his little sister and it seems that is exactly what Enzo set her up to believe, even if the reason why has yet to reveal itself. Regardless, it means pretty, perfect Katana isn’t going anywhere.

“Fuck my life.” I huff, dropping my head into my hands.

A throat clears then, and I whip an icy glare toward the open door.

Enzo stands there in the same suit he wore to the fundraiser, but he’s removed his jacket, his guns now on full display. They’re clipped to his waist, and there’s a frown etched across his stupid handsome face.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

He ignores me, walking farther into the room, his eyes assessing every inch of me and hardening with each passing second at whatever it is he thinks he sees.

I promptly shift, tucking my feet beneath me and repositioning myself.

As casually as possible, I gather my hair and comb my fingers through it as I lay it across one shoulder, hoping I don’t look like the total mess I feel and hating that I care.

Enzo’s eyes meet mine and he crosses his arms, leaning back against the edge of the desk. He stares a moment, and then says, “I made a mistake bringing Katana tonight.”

Surprise settles in my bones at his confession, chipping at a bit of the ice wall that’s built itself up within me.

“Her presence overshadowed you,” he adds, and now I want to punch him again.

“Fuck you, Enzo.” I shake my head. “I don’t need to shine. I never have, never will.”

I reach for the robe thrown over the edge of the bed, tugging on the end so I don’t have to show him more than I want him to see, and tug my arms through it. Only once it’s tied do I jump to my feet, quickly shoving my bare feet in a pair of house shoes as I walk over to the small fridge.

“I wanted you to,” he claims.

“Yeah, well, I wanted a husband who didn’t already have a wife. Sucks to get it wrong, doesn’t it?” Uncapping a bottle of water, I take a slow sip, internally slapping myself when my hand starts to shake. “I need to shower if you can please go.”

“No.”

Sighing, I prop my ass on the edge of the coffee bar, staring out the window. “I don’t know what you want from me, Enzo. I’m here. I’m not running. I played your game tonight. I didn’t kill your precious Katana?—”

“She’s notmyanything.”

“—so leave me to the little peace my life still has.”

“I told you I want this to be real.”

My eyes snap to his. “And I did all I could to validate the lie. I smiled and held your arm and paraded around like a gold digger waving my ring at anyone who would look. What more can I do?”

“You can try.”

I spin around, crossing my arms to mirror his position, happy there is half a room separating us. “I don’t understand.”

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