Page 86 of Merciless Oath

“Let’s just say the past is in the past and leave it at that, shall we?”

“Sounds good to me, Dad.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

It wasn’t an emotional conversation, but it was something. I leap out of bed, excited to get my day started. By the time Lenny comes home from dropping the girls off at school, I’m a ball of nervous energy.

My shaky hands encircle her waist, and I pull her into a deep, long kiss.

“Enzo,” she pants, pulling away. “What are you doing? I thought you had that meeting today?”

“Nope.” I grin, pulling her back to me. “I have much, much better things to do today than sit in an office with ten stinky dudes talking about murder.”

“I can’t imagine anything better than that.” She laughs, burying her nose in my sweater. I’m wearing my most embarrassing Christmas sweater, even though it’s almost April, and I can see Lenny eyeing it.

“You like this?” I ask, modeling the sweater as if it’s a bespoke suit.

“I hate it,” she says. “But it suits you.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” I say, shooting her a wounded puppy dog look.

“Oh my god, Enzo, just tell me what we’re doing today before you drive me insane!”

“We’re…” I stop, pausing for dramatic effect. Lenny groans, running her hands down her face in annoyance. I lean in close, pressing my lips to her ear. “…hanging out.”

“I want a divorce.”

“We’re not even married.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She brushes me off, ducking under my arm and heading to the coffeemaker. “I’ll marry you, thendivorce you. It’s what you deserve for getting my hopes up like that.”

“What’d you think I’d say?” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “We’re going house-hunting?”

She makes an angry little sound and ignores me, busying herself with grinding the coffee beans. I know Lenny is dying for us to buy our own place and start a new life, but I don’t want to rush into it.

Well, I didn’t—until Lux sent me a listing for a beautiful powder-blue Victorian house for sale in an amazing suburb just across the bridge.

That kind of sold it for me. But Lenny doesn’t know that.

I chuckle happily and pull the beans out of her hands.

“Come on,” I tease. “I’ll buy you a coffee. Don’t be mad at me. You love me, remember?”

“Sometimes I question it, honestly,” she grumbles, but I can hear the laughter in her voice. I drag her outside and we slip into my new family-friend vehicle.

We’re both quiet as we drive through the city, lost in our own thoughts, dreams, and hopes. After almost losing everything, life feels wonderfully abundant with possibilities.

As we drive into Redmill, a quirky, lively suburb close to downtown, Lenny relaxes. She’s not the biggest fan of surprises, so seeing our favorite neighborhood probably makes her feel more comfortable.

Little does she know, she’s in for a huge surprise.

I park at Etta’s Diner, our favorite breakfast spot, and she’s out of the car before me, bounding up the stairs. When I duck inside, trying to avoid the early spring rain, she’s already seated at a table, browsing the menu.

“Hungry little monster today, aren’t you?” I muse, sliding in across from her.

“Someone kept me up all night, if you remember,” she answers, not even looking at me.

Oh, I remember.The intense, vivid memory of Lenny on her hands and knees in front of me, trying desperately not to scream in pleasure and wake the whole house, knocks the wind out of me.

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