Page 74 of Bad Little Bride

Howdoes he have my performance pieces?

He would have had to go looking, do some research to find out what showcases I’d been a part of and track down the costumes somehow. And the diamond piece…

I make it a point to remember to look it up, see if a certain jewelry store has been robbed lately…

That shouldn’t send a spark of electricity surging through my nervous system…but it does.

I bite my lip, tracing the length of the four-poster bed.

“Grandma…” I begin, hating the hesitation in my voice. “You said if I needed anything to let you know.”

I look to her, and her eyes tighten around the edges, showing her age a little more. “I did. I’m under clear instructions to indulge your every request, Miss Revenaw.”

“Good.” I nod. “Because there is something I need, and I’m not sure it can wait…”

Chapter

Sixteen

Boston

Enzo slamshis glass down for the second time, and a man whose build matches the last one to refill it—though I couldn’t say for sure thanks to the bandana slung across his nose, hiding his face—steps in to pour him a third. And the food has only just been set before us.

His movements are jerky as he piles my plate, aggressively diving into his own. Even his chewing is vicious, and the sharp dip in his brows has yet to ease since the moment he stormed into the room, slamming into his seat without a word.

In fact, he’s yet to speak at all and we’ve been sitting here for no less than ten minutes.

“Bad day?”

Enzo’s eyes narrow on his plate. “What makes you think that?”

I swallow my bite, enjoying the red wine reduction as it washes over my tongue, and take my time answering. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you were in a very different mood when you left today?—”

“You mean when you picked a fight with me, all so you wouldn’t have to acknowledge you enjoyed our morning together?”

“—and now you’re stabbing at your steak like you’re the one killing the cow.” I pretend he didn’t speak, and he huffs in further annoyance.

“I’d very much like to kill someone right now, actually. Thank you for the idea.”

I roll my eyes, letting my teeth scrape across the fork and chewing slowly as I go in for a third taste.

Enzo’s attention yanks my way, snapping from my plate to my mouth before lifting to meet my gaze.

“What?”

Satisfaction flares to life in his hazel eyes. “You’re enjoying the filet.”

I tense, realizing this is the first time I’ve accepted the plate he’s prepared for me.

I put the fork down and slide the plate away, taking hold of my wine.

A flash of caution flickers across his face, his jaw ticking. “Don’t be a brat. You like it. Eat it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Eat, Boston.”

“I’m not hungry.”

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