Page 21 of The Forbidden Husband

The furniture looked barely used, and the plush white rug didn’t show any signs of frequent foot traffic. It looked like it could be a magazine home, and I skirted around the outside of the small sitting room, heading toward the kitchen, where someone shuffled around.

“Enzo?” I said as I rounded the corner.

Itwasn’tEnzo.

A tall, lean woman stood over the sink, washing dishes and placing them in a wire drying rack. She glanced over a willowyshoulder and offered me a nod of acknowledgment before continuing with her work.

I froze in place, looking over her appearance. This womanwas nota maid. Not in a black crop top, shorts, a studded collar, and black combat boots. She was the perfect definition of a gothic chick, and I tilted my head. Was this the woman Enzo was seeing before agreeing to the marriage?

Would I be living in a house with two lovers?

She held herself as if she belonged here. I wouldn’t put it past Enzo to be with her. She seemed like the woman who would go for someone like him. I didn’t know why, but the thought of him being with a woman so different than me hit something deep in my chest and sent pangs of pain through me.

We were only married in name, and he had made that clear.

“Who are you?” I asked coldly.

She glanced over at me with raised brows. “I didn’t take you as someone who would be rude to the help.”

The dry way she spoke had me taking a step forward.

“I’m not rude to the help,” I countered, feeling a bit defensive at the accusation. “I just don’t know who you are.”

“Jaimie,” she said blandly as she placed a pot in the drying rack without looking at me.

“You don’t look like a maid,” I told her.

She snorted. “No shit.”

“Is Enzo here anywhere?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively. I didn’t know what to think about her, and the lack of answers wasn’t helping.

“If I’m here, he won’t be.”

I bit my lip and nodded, sick of the skepticism. “I take it you’re not a gal of many words?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, here’s the thing, Jaimie. Enzo hasn’t told me anything about what to expect living here. I don’t know you or anyone else employed by Enzo. I need information; you’re the only one here to offer it.”

Jaimie placed the last plate in the rack, and as she pulled the plug in the sink, the sound of whooshing water filled the kitchen. She finally gave me her full attention, and I straightened my back at her assessing, icy-blue stare. I spent my entire life around terrifying people, and it was the only reason I didn’t shake beneath her gaze.

I may have spent a life beneath my father's thumb, but I wasn’t weak.

I wouldn’t allow myself to feel weak here.

“I’m not one of Enzo’s employees. I work for myself, but from time to time, Enzo will hire me to complete a task for him. Your father has done the same.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You know my father.”

“He’s an asshole, but most of the men I work for are.”

“Why would Enzo hire you to be here if you have a history of working for his enemies.”

She shook her head and leaned on the counter with an extended arm. “I don’t take jobs that alienate me from either group. Enzo and Alonzo have both tried, but no amount of money is worth that target.”

It made sense, and it was a smart business move on her part.

“So, you’re open to being hired by anyone?” I asked.

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