Page 11

And that?
Thatwas more terrifying than the Genovese, the Morettis, or anything else.
I blinked when Mona patted my hand. “Molly, you are beautiful, and you make my Enzo happy. If he gives you trouble, call me. I’ll straighten him out,” she said.
“I will,” I said.
Mona nodded, looking satisfied. And I somehow managed to make it through the rest of the meal.
“See? You had fun,” he said after dinner as we waited at the valet.
“I didn’t say all that. But what I did say was that I would take the train home. You don’t need to take me.”
Enzo grazed his lips along my temple. “You did well. Mona looks soft but she’s a savage. And she has an impeccable bullshit detector.”
“What does that have to do with the train, Enzo?” I said.
“Molly, you know you’re not taking the fucking train. Anyway, you felt safe with them. You feel safe with me,” he said.
I huffed, but didn’t deny what he’d said.
Because it was true.
Enzo locked his eyes with mine, grazed his lips along my temple as he pulled me closer, his hand centered possessively at the small of my back.
“But we really need to sell this,” he said.
I noticed when his eyes shifted and I followed his gaze to where it landed.
It was Fabiano.
His eyes were on mine, but everything about his posture told me I was secondary.
He was watching Enzo.
Waiting.
Enzo huffed, then flipped Fabiano off.
Then he turned to look at me and leaned in.
His kiss started like a whisper.
A breath.
Turned into a wave.
The rest of the world fell away, and my brain couldn’t hold anything but the feeling of him.
There was no Fabiano.
No restaurant.
No Aunt Mona.
Only Enzo.
His lips, warm against mine.