Page 33 of The Forbidden Husband

“Thanks for the boost of confidence,” I said through an uncontrolled sniffle. I scooped the onion pieces and sealed them in a glass container before turning to the sink and washing my hands. “Do you even have tear ducts?”

She lifted a glass of wine to her lips with a smirk at the same time as the door to the house slammed open. I heard somethingfall from the wall and shatter as multiple loud boots stormed into the house.

I had never seen anyone move as quickly as Jaimie.

Her wine glass was forgotten on the counter, tipped over, and its contents dripped on the floor. In an instant, she had a gun in her hand. She stormed around the counter and reached the side closest to the entryway before her shoulders loosened and she dropped it immediately.

“Fuck, Enzo,” she shouted, tucking the gun away in an instant. Whatever she saw had her eyes veering around the room, almost as if compartmentalizing each detail before speaking again. “Do I need to call Doc?”

Doc?

I dropped the knife onto the cutting board and rushed around the corner. Enzo stood there as three other men panted behind him. One had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. The other two paced in front of the door.

Blood dripped from each of them. Their noses. Clothes. Skin. Small splatters of it dripped beneath them onto the floor.

Somuch blood.

I couldn’t find words as my gaze fixed on Enzo, involuntarily scanning him for any sign of injury. He clearly favored one of his legs, but he stood tall enough to tell me that this blood hadn’t come from him.

“Jaimie, go and take them back to the compound to be stitched up. Doc’s already there.”

“What about you?”

“I can handle myself. Go.”

If it were me, I would have never listened to him without pushing for more questions, but Jaimie did just that. She escorted the three men through the front door, demanding that they refrain from bleeding in her car, or there would be hell to pay.

In a different situation, maybe I would have asked about the “compound,” but not now. It didn’t feel relevant now.

I still couldn’t bring myself to move from my spot, even when it was only Enzo and me in the house. I didn’t know what it was about the look in his eyes. The hard brutality. There was an edge that could cut right through me without effort.

I hadneverseen a man look as deadly as Enzo looked right now.

This was the man who people feared. This was the legendary Enzo Rissi, and I didn’t have a single defense against him.

I wasn’t even sure he saw me through the haze of bloodshed.

“What… what happened?”

Nothing cleared from his expression as his eyes focused on me. They darted across my face and then down my body. Despite the modest, high-waisted shorts and cropped top, I felt vulnerable. A tremor ran down my spine at the look in his eyes.

“Fucking Russians.”

I wanted to ask about Noemi, but from his state, I wouldn’t push my luck. Not now.

My eyes locked on a spot in his skin where I could see blood oozing. The rest of it had begun drying on him. I broke my stillness and walked toward him with my hand outstretched.

“Stop.”

I didn’t listen despite the harshness in his tone. I moved forward and reached for the cut.

His hand wrapped tightly around my wrist and held it a mere inch away from his skin. I stiffened, and for the first time, I wondered if I had made the right decision. It had felt like an involuntary pull toward him. I needed to see what was wrong. I needed to inspect it and make sure it was okay.

“You can’t touch me right now, Aria.”

“Why not?” I pushed back, meeting those cold eyes. Emotionless. Terrifying.

But the more I stared into them, the less terrified I became.

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