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The second Enzo walks through the door, my body springs into action. I don’t even register moving until I find myself in front of him. Ignoring Lena’s huff from the living room, I drink him in as he stands there.

God, he’s too handsome in that tailored black coat he’s wearing.

His expression is carved from stone, his voice a rasp of dark velvet. “You’ve been naughty, Toy.”

“Have I?” I ask, immediately thinking about the punishment I hope he doles out when we’re alone.

His gaze pins me where I stand, a force heavier than hands, heavier than chains. Before I can speak—before I can even think—he curls his hand around my throat. Not squeezing. Just holding, like he’s reminding me who I belong to. Who I’ve always belonged to.

And then he’s kissing me, hard and deep, his mouth crashing down on mine like a punishment. His fingers flex against the sides of my neck, sending a bright, burning shudder down my spine. I gasp against him, and he takes the sound like an offering, swallowing it down with a low growl that vibrates between our bodies.

I whimper when he pulls back, ending the kiss all too soon. I lean into the touch as his thumb strokes once under my jaw, possessive and tender, like he’s checking to make sure I’m still breathing.

“You haven’t eaten anything but cupcakes, and you’ve only had coffee to drink,” he murmurs. That’s all it takes for me to know my transgression. “You promised to look after yourself.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I know,” I admit. “Guess I got a bit carried away with Lena.”

At my words, his gaze sweeps over me, then slides past my shoulder, and when I turn to look, I see Lena standing in the living room doorway. The tick in her jaw is the only outward sign that she’s scrutinizing Enzo and finding him lacking.

While he shrugs his coat off and hangs it on the mounted rack by the door, I silently ponder how I’m going to diffuse the growing tension.

“Enzo,” I say, forcing air into my lungs. “This is Lena. Lena, this is Enzo.” My voice sounds wrecked even to my own ears, still raw from his kiss, from the way his presence devours the room.

Lena crosses her arms, one eyebrow lifting with slow, surgical precision. “So you’re the squatter.”

Enzo doesn’t react, not the way most men would. No anger or indignation. Just a small, glacial smile that’s more teeth than anything. “And you,” he answers, voice low and dangerous, “are the friend who left her alone.”

Lena’s lips twitch, but it looks more like a defensive reflex than real humor.

Well, she might be okay with that cheap jab, but I’m not. “Hey,” I interject, my hand brushing Enzo’s chest without thinking. Solid. Steady. A wall that would never let me fall. “I’ve told you it’s not her fault.”

“You have,” Enzo agrees, not taking his eyes off Lena. “And I’ve told you I disagree.”

Rolling my eyes, I look at Lena, who holds my gaze for a long moment. I can see the war happening behind her eyes. The part of her that wants to tear him apart is fighting against the part of her that’s maybe—just maybe—starting to understand he would tear apart the entire world to keep me safe.

Finally, with a reluctant sigh, she eases her arms to her sides. “I guess it’s not squatting if the person whose name is on the lease wants you here.”

Enzo’s lips twitch, just a fraction, as if he finds her feisty acceptance amusing rather than threatening.

“Don’t know about that,” I deadpan. “As far as I know he hasn’t gotten permission from Teddy.”

Lena crosses the space between us so she can grab her jacket and boots. Once she’s wearing both, she pulls me into a hug.

“Be good, Pipes,” she murmurs into my hair. I start to pull back, but she doesn’t let me go. She presses her mouth to my ear and whispers, so soft I barely catch it, “I think I get it now.”

Then she pulls away, flashing me a smile before turning toward the door that Enzo’s holding open for her. She nods at him before walking through it, leaving us alone.

Chapter 39

Lorenzo

With Lena gone, there’s a restlessness in Piper’s movements that catches my eye. The way she fiddles with her sweater hem, her fingers pinching and releasing the fabric in a rhythm that betrays everything she’s trying to hide.

She thinks I don’t notice the half-glances she throws my way, as if she’s processing something. But I notice everything about her. Every breath. Every twitch. Every silent plea her body makes before her mind catches up to what she truly wants. Me.

“Did you have fun, Toy?” I ask.

Piper nods, a slight jerk of her chin. “Yeah.”