Page 38 of Enzo's Vow
He paused, not once blinking, then said, very directly, “I hate seeing anything abandoned.”
He placed a pass around my neck, and we accessed a door into a back room smelling faintly of antiseptic and warm milk. On a steel table sat a low-sided box lined with blankets, where a tangle of small, tan puppies slept. They were sleek and fine-boned, with disproportionately large ears folded against their heads.Cirnechi, the ancient hounds native to Sicily.
“Ciao, Enzo.” A man in faded work clothes stood beside the table. He carefully scooped up one of the pups, cradling its slender body. “These are the latest to come in.” He nodded toward a counter holding supplies. “Go grab a bottle to get started.”
Enzo handed me one milk bottle, so at-home in this place one would assume he owned the shelter.
“You volunteer here.” Not a question, a statement.
“I have no free time for volunteer work. Since they’re acquainted with me here, I asked for a favor.” He carefully collected one littleCirnecopuppy, its coat the colour of sunbaked earth, fine and sleek over surprisingly sturdy limbs. He placed the delicate, warm creature in the crook of my arm. “I figured what better way to help you than by interacting with them in their most vulnerable stage.”
The puppy whimpered in my embrace, its large, triangular ears twitching nervously, more afraid of me than I was of it. I cuddled the small animal, feeling the fragile flutter of its ribs, and helped its pointed muzzle latch onto the bottle.
His lips twitched as he grappled with his own squirmy puppy. “I used to play with a pup just like this as a child.” At last he managed to give the puppy the bottle.
“Did you have one growing up?” No thanks to his cocky attitude and steel exterior, I struggled to imagine him as an innocent child.
“No, I wish. Lucio and I cared for one owned by the orphanage.” He froze as if he disclosed a secret and offered a tight-lipped smile.
Orphanage? Had he grown up next to one? Laughter hummed in my throat.
He almost dropped the bottle, thanks to the rowdy pup in his hands.
“What is up with yours? He’s so hyper.”
He chuckled.
The soft sound burst through my gut like confetti. Before today, I’d never derived pleasure from another’s humor. I’d also never witnessed Enzo laugh, at least not in a genuine, delightful way. He differed in this setting. The distance from the villa, or his mother, might be the reason. Right here, right now, stood a man I liked, a man possible to befriend. The mobster I painted him out to be was fading, replaced by someone more complex, more surprising. Fascinating even. A driven businessman, loyal to his family, and a soft spot for animals. Not to mention the way those green flames devoured me sent a shiver through my limbs.
Earth to Gemma!I blinked as reality hit, dwindling the good vibes. How could I have forgotten he wasn’t into me. This trip had an ulterior motive. His dirty tricks slipped my mind. This little outing didn’t attest he cared for my anxiety over dogs. He worked hard at his goal. The joyous glimmer I basked in seconds ago now dissipated. Despite Enzo’s sweet portrayal, I mustn’t forget his initial goal.
Chapter 16
Enzo
The mansion loomed, a cold testament to my mother’s past. Carina had described it often enough: perfect symmetry, manicured lawns, an air of suffocating wealth. Her childhood home, the place they’d banished her for daring to love my father. Now here we were, returning after so many years to attend a lavish party for my uncle, the new don of the Calafiore mafia. My stomach twisted. Bringing Gemma here felt like a betrayal, not just to her, but to myself. This wasn’t her world, and despite Carina’s relentless pushing, it wasn’t mine, either.
The humid night air did little to ease the tension knotting my shoulders. Unbuttoning my collar, I tried loosening both the physical and emotional knot. I opened the passenger door and held out my hand. Gemma took it, her skin soft against my calloused palm. I let my thumb graze her knuckles, a small, selfish touch I couldn’t resist.
She peered at the ground, hiding the slight hue coloring her cheeks. “Your uncle’s house?” Releasing my hand, she stepped forward.
I followed her roaming gaze over the climbing vines on the old stucco, settling on the fountain spewing water in the driveway’s immaculate yard.
“You told me you didn’tassociatewith this crowd.”
I waited for her to add the inevitable.Gotcha, liar. My hand settled on the curve of her back, her warm flesh a precarious anchor against the storm brewing inside me. I guided her toward the stone stairs.
Her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat.
She assumed she ruled the upper hand with her smart-mouth jab, but I disarmed her with a single touch. “Believe it or not, I’ve managed to dodge this particular circle of hell until now.”
Her pink lips parted in a way I recognized from experience. The hunger in her gaze had me almost ditching the party to take her back home.
Earlier, when she’d stepped out into the hallway, every instinct screamed to grab her and taste the kiss haunting my fantasies since the moment I laid eyes on her. The pale blue dress should have been demure considering it bared no more than her shoulders and arms. But the satin skimming her figure was anything but. As she’d descended the stairs, the whisper of fabric ended high above the curve of her behind, and I gripped the rail tight, preventing myself from toppling after her.
Around me, and me alone, it would have been a pleasure, but headed as we were into a viper’s nest teeming with mafiosi men, a protest sat on the tip of my tongue. Every man inside would be looking at what wasmine. My hands tightened into fists, still itching to haul her back to the house and demand she wear another gown. What stopped me was the progress we’d made these last few days. Another argument would unravel it all.
Gemma quirked her brow. “Wait, you’venevermet your uncle?”
