Page 4 of Corrupted By the Capo

Well, not technically, but in practice, he had shushed me.

Nobodyshushed me.

“I haven’t heard anything about that,” Fabiano said.

I took enough of a break from my anger at this pigheaded Enzo person to notice that Fabiano had stepped closer. He also had his hand near his waist—and in an instant, the moment took a turn.

This silly little farce had become life or death.

I wasn’t afraid of guns, but I’d never really had a reason to be. Most of my interactions with petty street crime were just that: petty.

Sure, there was violence—and guns were as common as oxygen—but this…this was something different.

“You trying to start a war over two bucks?” Enzo said. His voice was calm, steel wrapped in silk, the promise of violence unmissable.

As he spoke, he pushed me behind him, and this time, I had no inclination to resist.

“You trying to start a war over some bitch?” Fabiano said.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Fabiano,” Enzo said.

On instinct, I glanced up at him, trying to process what I was hearing. Even though this situation had been tense, his voice had held a tone of playfulness.

It wasn’t playful now.

In fact, when I had looked at Enzo the first time, after that feeling of familiarity, there had been something warm, almost comforting about him.

But in just that split second, I realized how simple—naive—I had been.

Because the person holding me now wasn’t comforting.

He was dangerous.

And I stood behind him like I belonged there.

I wasn’t sure how I missed it before, but I saw his danger now.

Saw it, believed it so much that I didn’t try to pull away again.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” Enzo said.

Even Fabiano, clearly not a genius, was smart enough to look afraid. Interesting considering he was the one with a gun in his waistband.

“Sorry about the insult, Enzo,” he said.

“Tell Molly,” Enzo said.

The way Enzo said my name was something I’d never heard.

He spoke my name with reverence.

Spoke it like he was claiming me.

Fabiano glanced toward me but didn’t really look at me as he mumbled, “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Enzo glared at the man as he retreated, either not interested or not willing to look back.

When he was gone, I looked at Enzo, sudden awareness hitting me.

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