Page 15 of Enzo DeLuca

Stefan blocked the door. “Do you hear the don talking to you?”

Eve glared up at Stefan but said nothing.

“Have a seat, Eve,” Enzo said, returning to his own seat.

She looked his way. Their gazes met. Enzo swallowed. They were just fucking eyes. Everyone had them. Why did hers make him feel this way?

“I’m not hungry,” she told him.

That voice. He’d dreamed about it last night. In his dream, she’d whispered nasty shit in his ear while he’d fucked her until she couldn’t see straight. Enzo shifted in his seat and nodded to the end of the table.

“I don’t like repeating myself,” he told her.

“Neither do I,” she replied.

Stefan took a step toward her.

“Leave us, Stefan,” Enzo told his right-hand man.

“Enzo, we have a full day ahead of us.”

“I know. I should be done with breakfast in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you in the foyer.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stefan left the room. Enzo wasn’t used to his friend referring to him as sir. He was pretty sure it wasn’t something he could get used to. Eve reached for the door knob.

“Are you testing my patience?” Enzo asked. Her hand froze on the knob. “I assure you,” he told her. “I don’t have any. Sit down and eat.”

Lowering her hand, she faced him fully. “I’m not hungry.”

“You have to be.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“You’re also narcissistic.”

“I’ve been called that a time or two.”

“Have you also been called a jack...”

“Careful,” he warned. “As I said, I don’t have any patience.”

Her lips snapped shut. He nodded to the end of the table again. When she didn’t move, he stood. She eyed him warily as he approached her. When he reached her, he stood toe to toe with her. She had to tilt her head back to stare up at him. Her glare was defiant. He could tell from the look in her eyes that no matter what he said, she wasn’t going to do as he asked.

“Since you’re a guest here, I’ll ask you one more time...”

“No need to ask again,” she interrupted him. “My answer won’t change. I’m not eating...”

Before she could finish her sentence, Enzo scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She beat her fists against his back and called him every sort of motherfucker in the book as he strode over to her seat. A few of the motherfuckers she called him were ones he’d heard before. The others were a first for him.

“You crazy motherfucker,” she yelled. “Put me down, you lying motherfucker. Kidnapping motherfucker! Insane motherfucker, what is wrong with you?”

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