Page 15 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)

“We’ll keep this our secret, and if Mom asks, you tell them my cigarette fell and damaged the rug.” Four relieved sighs filled the space, but I kept my most stern expression. “However, if I catch you again?—”

“We won’t,” Romeo promised as the four of them shook their heads in unison, and I couldn’t help the smile pulling on my lips.

“Good.” I gave them a look and headed for the door that led to the terrace. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I found Amadeo on the swinging chair in front of the guesthouse. The moment he spotted me, he jumped up and strode to me with a dark expression.

“What took you so fucking long?” was his greeting.

My eyebrow arched.

“It’s been exactly thirty minutes,” I said, flicking a glance at my vintage Rolex.

“I overheard something,” he gritted, his jaw tense and his expression thunderous. “Why in the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

I slid my hands into my pockets and casually made my way to the chair, buying time.

“What exactly didn’t I tell you?” I questioned, meeting his eyes.

“Is it true?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Amadeo. I’m not a mind reader.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then took three steps before retaking his spot opposite me.

“You’ve been acting like the head of the family way before Father relinquished his Omertà seat. I’m fine with it, but you should trust me enough to keep me in the loop.” He paused, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he continued. “What was your business with Diana Bergman?”

Fuck! He wasn’t supposed to learn about my business with Diana. Fucking ever.

“Why don’t you tell me what you heard first?” I stated reluctantly, unwilling to reveal more than necessary.

“That she knew our mother,” he gritted. “That you approached her recently. Why?”

I shrugged. “She had something I needed.”

“Stop fucking around, Enzo. It’s me you’re talking to.”

I sighed. “It’s the truth. She had something I needed, and I made a deal with her.”

“Well, I sure as fuck hope it had nothing to do with her ties to the Spanish mafia.”

“Where are you getting your information from?” I demanded, keeping my expression blank.

“Don’t you fucking worry about that. Did you know the Spanish are working with Atticus Popov?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Amadeo, please tell me you’re not fucking around with the Spanish.”

He shrugged. “It was a one-time thing.”

His face remained impassive, ghosts lurking behind those eyes in typical Marchetti fashion.

“You’re a grown man, and you can fuck any willing person. Woman, man… that’s your business. But I sure as fuck hope you didn’t get tangled up with the Spanish mafia.”

“I didn’t, and it wasn’t a man. I’m not gay.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I couldn’t care less if you were. I’m more worried about what information you’re sharing while tangled up between the sheets.”

He shrugged. “We weren’t in a bed.”

I sighed. “I really don’t need to know. There’s such a thing as TMI, you know.”

He scoffed. “Look at you, talking like the young ones. Your fiancée’s rubbing off on you.”

I glared at him. “Stop trying to distract me. It’s not working. I want to know who you got the information from.”

“All you need to know is that it was a casual conversation during a card game in Ibiza.”

“And what did that conversation reveal?”

“Exactly what I said: that you struck a deal with Diana Bergman.”

“It’s hardly a deal worth mentioning.” I sneered. “I needed a ticket to an exclusive club.”

“Why?”

One word. One name. It was my sole focus lately. “Penelope.”

I was searching for a way to get closer to my fiancée.

Eventually, I managed to connect with Penelope online, and over the course of several months, our conversations deepened.

When she suggested we finally meet, I chose Revelation as the place.

To gain access, I turned to the one woman whose moral compass pointed due south—Diana Bergman.

She was hell-bent on scrubbing every digital and physical trace of herself before making her move against Dante Leone.

I helped her vanish, and in return, she opened the doors to the club for me, using her connection.

“She doesn’t strike me as the type to visit an exclusive club.”

I shrugged. “She isn’t, but she wanted a hookup, and I delivered. I take my fiancée’s needs very seriously.”

He stiffened and his head shot up. “Don’t fucking tell me you deflowered your future wife before your wedding night.” I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “Are you out of your mind, Enzo? If her father… or even our father?—”

“I must say, this side of you is entertaining.” I tilted my head. “And nobody knows, so you need to keep your mouth shut about this. Once my ring’s on her finger, she’ll be mine forever and there’ll be no turning back.”

Because I would never let her go, no matter what kind of dirt eventually came out.

“Jesus, you really have it bad for this girl,” Amadeo remarked. “I’ve never seen you this obsessed.” I didn’t comment, because really, what was there to say? “Were you in Sicily again last night?”

My shrug was his answer, and he shook his head in disapproval.

“Jesus, Enzo. What the fuck were you doing there? Watching her sleep?”

“Pretty much.”

He groaned. “Even I know that’s creepy.”

“Ha, that’s not what the romance books she reads with her friends say. She loves it, trust me.”

“If you fucking say so.”

“Anyhow, I did have one question for you.”

He narrowed his eyes on me, disapproval screaming from them. “If you ask me to help you stalk her, I’m walking away right now. The answer is no. I have to draw the line somewhere.”

He’d never have to worry about that because there was no fucking way in hell I’d ever let any man or woman violate her privacy like that. That was my job, and mine alone.

“Be my best man,” I said simply.

He shot to his feet and slapped me on my shoulder. “Jesus, Enzo, I thought you’d never ask. Fuck yeah, I’ll be your best man.”

I smiled at his enthusiasm, but I couldn’t help but wonder how long secrets could remain buried.

One thing I knew for certain… If our family name became connected in any shape or form to organ trafficking, it would ruin us for good.

It was up to me to move heaven and earth to ensure that never happened.

After all, that was the reason I handed over my newly developed software to Interpol—who then passed it along to a web of international agencies.

That single gesture kept every badge and bureau off my back, so long as I didn’t do anything too loud or too reckless.

It was why I’d stepped out of the shadows, killing off any man who dared come close to Penelope for the past three years and got away with it.

And now, I’d seduced her and demanded a Christmas wedding.

Once my name was attached to hers, she wouldn’t be able to escape me.