Page 10

10

ENZO

I slip my phone back into my pocket, seeing Kendra's read receipt glaring back at me with no response. The woman is a challenge—refusing to play by anyone's rules but her own. It's infuriating. Intriguing.

A small smile threatens my composure as I picture her deliberately ignoring my text, probably rolling her eyes at her phone screen. I've never met someone who fights her own attraction with such determination. The challenge only makes me want her more.

The streets are quiet tonight, just how I prefer them. The chill in the air keeps most people indoors, leaving me to my thoughts as I walk the three blocks from my car to the upscale restaurant where I'm meeting one of Luca's contacts. The solitude shatters when two figures step out from the alley to my left.

My body tenses instantly, hand moving instinctively inside my jacket before recognition hits. The movement is so subtle no one would notice unless they were looking for it.

"Zenon," I say, voice flat as I face my older brother. His lean frame is wrapped in an expensive coat that screams of trying too hard, hair slicked back with meticulous precision that speaks of a man desperate for control. Behind him looms his son, Ercole, all brute force with none of the finesse, the permanent bruising on his knuckles matching the perpetual sneer on his face.

I don't stop walking, forcing them to fall into step beside me. "What an unpleasant surprise."

"That how you greet family now?" Zenon's voice carries that familiar mocking edge, the one he's cultivated since we were boys. Always the puppetmaster, always thinking he's three steps ahead.

"You're not my family."

Ercole moves with surprising speed for his size, stepping in front of me to block my path. His massive frame casts a shadow across the sidewalk, his stormy eyes burning with the kind of violence that's always lived just beneath his skin. My nephew might be massive but there’s not much going for wonder boy besides making his father happy with his strength.

"Traitor," he spits, the word landing between us like a gauntlet. "Family doesn't do what you did."

I meet his gaze without flinching. "Which part bothers you more? That I betrayed the Cappallettis, or that I succeeded?"

"You turned on your own kind," Ercole growls, taking a step closer, invading my space with his bulk. "What kind of man does that make you?"

"A successful one." I don't back away. Never have, never will. "If loyalty meant anything to Giovanni, he wouldn't have let Alfonso throw me aside like garbage."

Zenon circles closer, always the shark. His perfectly calculated movements contrast with Ercole's raw aggression. "You think Luca will protect you forever?" His voice drops, words precise and cutting. "He's got his own kingdom now. He doesn't need you."

I allow my lips to curve into the slightest smile. "Is that what keeps you up at night, Zenon? Wondering who needs who?"

"We know what you did," Zenon continues, ignoring my taunt. "Every detail. Every name. Every betrayal."

"Good." I adjust my cuffs, the motion deliberate, unhurried. "Then you know exactly what I'm capable of. What I'm willing to do."

"You think you're untouchable." Ercole's fists clench at his sides, knuckles whitening with barely contained rage.

"I think you're in my way." I step around him, shoulder checking him as I pass. The contact is brief but intentional—a reminder that I don't fear him.

Zenon's laugh follows me, hollow and calculated. "Family is forever, Enzo. Blood doesn't wash off so easily."

I turn back, meeting his cold gray eyes—so like mine yet stripped of anything human. "We share DNA, not loyalty. There's a difference."

"Not to us," Ercole rumbles.

"That's your problem." I straighten my jacket, eyes never leaving theirs. "Not mine."

I continue walking, leaving them behind, their presence like a bad taste I can't quite spit out. Zenon's words might have rattled a lesser man, but I've been playing this game too long. Family reunions were always destined to be bloody in our world.

The restaurant comes into view, its elegant facade concealing the darker dealings that happen within. Inside, I meet Luca's contact—an aging politician with greedy fingers and frightened eyes. The meeting is quick, efficient. Money changes hands, promises are made, and I secure the zoning approval Luca needs for his newest venture. Simple. Clean. The way I operate.

Throughout the meeting, I feel my phone vibrate twice in my pocket. I don't need to check it to know who it is. Kendra Washington has been a persistent thought in my mind since the moment I saw her at Skye's boutique—tall, confident, with those knowing brown eyes that see right through bullshit. The kind of woman who commands a room without trying. The kind of woman I rarely encounter in my world of yes-men and sycophants.

When I finally step back onto the street, the night air feels cleaner than the corrupt deals sealed with handshakes inside. I pull out my phone, my finger sliding across the screen to reveal her message.

Found something better to do tonight. Maybe next time.

A smirk plays at the corners of my mouth as I read between the lines. She's pushing back, testing to see how I'll react. It's deliberate defiance wrapped in casual dismissal.

I like it. I like her.

Most women in my orbit either fear me or want something from me. Kendra does neither. She took my deal to save her friend, but she's determined to do it on her terms. It's a pointless struggle—she'll learn soon enough that I always get what I want—but her resistance is unexpectedly appealing.

I slide into my car, the leather seat cool against my back as I type out a response.

Enjoy your evening of "something better." I'll see you tomorrow. 8pm. Wear something nice.

I hit send, knowing the command will irritate her. I can almost see her now—those full lips pressed into a line, her eyes narrowing as she reads my message. She'll probably curse under her breath, maybe throw her phone onto the couch in frustration. But she'll be there. We both know it.

The thought of her simmering anger sends a rush of heat through my veins. There's something intoxicating about a woman who doesn't bend easily. Breaking her won't be my goal—no, taming Kendra would be like caging a wildcat. The beauty is in the fight, in the dance between us.

My phone buzzes again. I glance down, surprised to see her response so quickly.

You don't command me, Enzo. I'm not one of your soldiers.

I chuckle, the sound filling the empty car. She has no idea what she's playing with, yet she stands her ground. It's refreshing in a world where most people cower at my reputation alone.

"We'll see how long that lasts," I murmur to myself, sliding the phone back into my pocket without responding. Let her wonder. Let her mind race with possibilities of what tomorrow will bring.

The engine purrs to life beneath me, and I navigate through Chicago's streets toward home, where Penny and Paige will be waiting. They'll be my company for tonight, but tomorrow…

Tomorrow I'll remind Kendra that she is mine .