Page 123 of Enzo

I could feel her legs trembling, her muscles tightening, as she took everything and gave me even more.

“Oh… please… yes,” she panted, her eyelids shut tight.

I grabbed one of her full breasts, squeezing hard and pinching her nipple, twisting it between my fingertips.

“Guardami,” I told her.

She opened her eyes, her gaze flicking to mine, and she moaned, her pussy constricting. Reaching between us, I found her clit with my thumb, brushing it lightly, teasing her.

I kept circling her clit, rubbing and pressing while I fucked her. No, it wasn’t fucking. It was making love, andcazzo, it was even better.

Her walls clamped down and milked my cock as she shattered. The bliss on her face was a sight to behold, her soft moans echoing off the walls of our home.

My balls tightened and my body seized, my cock swelling inside her as the orgasm rushed over me and I followed her off the edge.

50

PENELOPE

Through the fog of sleep, I heard my papà’s voice, and for the first time in my life, it filled me with dread.

“Where is my daughter?” he bellowed from somewhere deep in the house. “I’m taking her home.”

I jolted upright, clutching the blanket to my chest. My heart slammed against my ribs. For a second, I thought I was dreaming, that it was some nightmare dredged up from the chaos we’d just escaped.

But then I heard it again.

“I lost one daughter. I’m not losing another to your stupid fucking power grab, Enzo!”

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the hem of the blanket.

“You and your family can go fuck yourselves,” Papà raged. “This marriage? It’s over. Annulled.”

I kicked the covers off and scrambled to find clothes, but we hadn’t finished unpacking. The closets were still bare. I spotted a pair of leggings and one of Enzo’s dress shirts draped over a chair and pulled them on in a rush.

Papà’s voice was still rising, but Enzo wasn’t yelling. He was quiet.

Too quiet.

I bolted down the hallway, feet pounding against the marble, then descended the sweeping staircase, heart hammering in my throat. I had no idea which direction to go. We hadn’t exactly explored every wing of this place yet.

Then I heard Papà’s voice again, sharp and vicious.

“You made yourself the head of that fucking organization. Are you trying to put your name on every hitman’s list, Enzo?”

“How did you find out?” Enzo questioned. “I knew it’d eventually come out, but this was… fast.”

“Nico Morrelli,” he shouted. “He always finds shit out, Enzo. You should know that.”

I found the office door cracked open at the far end of the hall.

Inside, Papà paced in his black suit, the outline of his gun visible beneath his jacket. My brothers stood stiffly on either side of him, also in suits—though they didn’t yet know how to wear them—and trying hard to look like men when they were still grieving teenagers.

Their backs were to me.

Only Enzo noticed when I entered.

“Where is Penelope?” Papà barked. “I’m taking her home. Right now.”