Page 64 of Enzo's Vow
Her eyes shimmered with something unrecognizable, hope perhaps. Then darkness shadowed her features, leaving the hard mask she wore so well. She studied me with a chilling intensity. “You think it’s that easy?” She brushed away my hand. A cold rejection. “You believe you can simply replace the life I lost?” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a game, and you’re a pawn. Don’t confuse it with anything else.”
For the first time since arriving here, I pitied Carina Calafiore. But pity wouldn’t save me. And if I didn’t keep my promise to Nicolo, he’d come back to finish the job. “So, does that mean you haven’t thought more about what we discussed? Ending this feud between the Calafiores and the De Lucas?”
For weeks, I’d been wrestling with this information, not sure whether or not to tell Enzo. I hated keeping secrets, but I’d seen how he retaliated with Franco and feared what he might do concerning the De Lucas.
She blinked out of her trance. “Why do you keep on insisting?”
I drew a breath, straightening my shoulders and choosing my next words carefully. “Give Nicolo back the ring. End this war before someone gets hurt.”
She avoided my eyes and twisted the material of her skirt in her lap. “I’m handling it.”
Was she considering returning the ring? Oh, please God. “What do you mean?”
Her sharp gaze found mine. “Tommaso and I have already arranged something. Like I said, I’m handling it.” She stood from the chair, her gaze sweeping over the basins and nail polish. “Clean up this mess.” A hint of softness colored the command, a far cry from her usual sharp rebukes. Her posture straightened as she stalked out of the room.
I blinked, my gaze falling to the little setup I organized. Could that have been her way of saying thanks? A smile stretched across my face. Was I making progress with Carina?
I tidied the kitchen and headed outside for a stroll in the garden to clear my head. Lupo and Fico trotted alongside me, keeping me company. As I neared the front of the house, one guard, the same one who always manned the entry gates, jogged up the driveway.
“Morning, Mrs. Cammarata.” He held a small stack of mail in his hand.
“Good morning.” I pointed to the mail. “I’m about to head inside. I can bring those in for you.”
His face softened in relief. “Grazie.”
I took the pile, waved him goodbye, and climbed the stairs. Fico’s wet nose nudged my ankle. My foot caught the edge of the step, pitching me off balance as the mail scattered across the floor with a soft thud. “Oh, Fico. Really? Were you hoping for one last pet before I left?” I scratched him behind his ear, causing his tongue to flop out. Satisfied, the two dogs bolted off.
Collecting the strewn letters, I paused. One letter bore my name in an elegant scrawl. I flipped it over. No return address. Slipping the letter beneath my thin cardigan, I entered the house, deposited the remaining mail onto the foyer table, and raced to my room. I sat on the edge of the bed and tore into the envelope without delay.
Deal’s done. You were useful, after all.
N.
P.S.: Tell that husband of yours to buy you a phone. Letters are so archaic.
I pressed the letter to my chest, a wave of relief washing over me. So Carina had given him the ring. Nicolo would leave us alone from now on. It was over. This day couldn’t get any better.
Chapter 24
Enzo
“Where are we going?” Gemma entered my car.
I signaled to the two cars behind mine, ordering my guards to follow us, taking no chances, not after De Luca. Other than instructing her to dress in casual clothes, I kept the destination a secret. “It’s a surprise.”
September neared its end, bringing cooler air with it. Her simple white summer dress seemed almost too innocent paired with the beige cardigan—but I knew the cashmere concealed the pink scar on her shoulder, a ghost of the violence I’d failed to prevent.
We turned onto a familiar street, and she gasped out the window. She spun in my direction, then back to the window. “My father’s street?”
I parked outside the back of her father’s building, my men stopping behind us as well. Friends and family streamed inside, gift bags in hand. She stared at me, blinking away the sudden moisture gathering in her eyes. “Papa’s birthday party?”
A few days ago, I overheard her wishing her father a great night at his upcoming party. A quick call to Gino, asking him to keep our surprise a secret, and here we were.
We unbuckled and stepped out of the car. I expected her to bolt inside in search of her father, but she circled the vehicle and launched into my arms. “Thank you, Enzo.”
I set her back on her feet, not ready to let go. The air crackled between us, a silent current pulling us closer. I succumbed, leaning in... but she didn’t want this. Didn’t want me. Respecting her boundaries, I pulled back. “Let’s go say hi.”
A hand clamped onto my collar, stopping me cold. Before I could process, she hauled me closer, her lips crashing against mine—firm, demanding. For a stunned second, my entire world went silent. Breath stalled in my lungs, muscles locked. Then the shockwave hit: the impossible softness of her mouth, the faint, unique scent of her skin, the sheer heat radiating between us. Reality slammed back in—a terrifying, blissful reality. My arms reacted before my brain, circling her waist, lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing at all. Her kiss was...everything. Heaven spun with a dizzying vertigo, even as cold dread began its slow coil deep in my gut.This might be the only one. Ever.A savage edge sharpened the bliss. If this was all I got, I’d take it. The surrender vanished, replaced by raw need. My grip on her waist tightened, fingers pressing into her skin. I took charge of the kiss, overriding her rhythm with mine—harder, deeper, more insistent. Slanting my mouth across hers, I silenced her exploration with my own invasion, demanding a response. She gasped against my lips when my tongue met hers with deliberate pressure, a sound I devoured. I crushed her against me until I could feel the frantic beat of her heart against my ribs, unconcerned by the guards watching our every move.
