Page 44 of His Little Angel

I go to the kitchen, wet the towel with warm water, wring it out, and then return. She’s exactly where I left her—hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes hazy.

I reach between her thighs and wipe her clean. The towel drops to the floor. I lift her again, and she lets out a soft, surprised little sound, her arms looping around my neck.

I carry her to the bed, lay her down, pull the covers back, and tuck her in. When I slide in beside her, she immediately molds against me—her back to my chest, her legs tangled with mine.

I wrap myself around her. Tight.

“Enzo?” she murmurs in the dark.

“Yeah?”

“You’re… heavy.”

I loosen my hold instantly. “Sorry. Am I hurting you?”

She shifts, turning to face me. Her eyes meet mine.

“No. Just… a lot.”

“Too much?”

She thinks, then shakes her head. “No. Just new.”

My lips brush her ear. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Mhm.”

“And Sunday,” I add. “The whole weekend.”

She hums, already drifting.

“I’m clearing everything,” I tell her. “Work. Calls. Meetings. The weekend is yours. Hell—my whole life is yours. We’ll do whatever you want.”

She tries not to smile. Fails a little.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” I promise. “That old bookstore you love. The coast. A plane. Tell me where.”

“We’ll see.”

It’s not a yes.

But it’s not a no.

It’s a chance.

“Okay,” I whisper—knowing damn well I’m not giving her another reason not to trust me.

I hold her while she falls asleep. I keep holding her long after.

I’m not the dangerous man who kept everyone at arm’s length. I’m something worse. A man who finally has something to lose. And I’ll burn the world to ash before I let anyone take her from me.

Chapter Nineteen

Mila

I’m starting to trust Enzo.