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ENZO

W asting time isn't something I do. Yet here I am, leaning against my Audi, arms crossed over my chest, waiting for Kendra Washington to round the corner. The wind picks up, carrying the first chill of fall, but I don't adjust my position. Control is everything—even over something as simple as showing discomfort.

I check my watch. I happen to know that Armando went to pay her friend a little visit, and I suspect that she will be coming here after. I've been trying to figure her out, and I think I finally have. Not because I'm obsessed—I'm meticulous. There's a difference.

Movement at the corner catches my eye. Kendra appears, phone in hand, those long legs of hers eating up the sidewalk as she strides with purpose. Even in simple jeans and a tailored blazer, she carries herself like she owns the fucking block. I respect that.

The moment she clocks me, her steps falter. Just for a split second—but I catch it. Her eyes narrow, that glossy mouth tightening at the corners. She recovers fast, though. I'll give her that.

"You following me now?" Her voice is sharp, casual, but I hear the edge underneath.

I don't move from my spot against the car. No need. She's already walking toward me like I knew she would.

"I've got vested interest in the area." My eyes slide over her, taking her in as she watches. "Where are you coming from?"

Her brow arches. "I don't see how that is any of your business."

I shrug. "Maybe it's not. But I hear one of my guys was visiting your friend. Thought you might need a hand with it." I keep my tone conversational, like we're discussing the weather instead of her friend who's currently in debt to some very dangerous people.

Her shoulders stiffen under that expensive blazer. Surprise flickers across those dark eyes before she masks it.

"Are you offering?" She stops a few feet away, close enough to talk, far enough to run. Smart girl.

A smirk pulls at my mouth. I like that she doesn't waste time asking how I know about Griffin. She's already accepted that I know things—that I make it my business to know things. "I'm offering a deal."

Her eyes narrow. "What do you want?"

"You. At my call. Whenever I want." I say each word slowly, deliberately, watching them land with precision and weight.

It's something that's been going through my mind since I saw her at the wedding—in his arms. I knew she'd want to help him once Armando shot me a text, more for me to know that Luca's girl's friend got caught up in his business than anything. And I instantly had an itch to trap her in a deal with me.

I'd give her what she wanted. And I'd get the chance to finally solve her so I can get her out of my brain.

I don't like people I don't understand. I like ones I can control even less. It's why I love my deals.

Her jaw tightens, eyes flashing. She crosses her arms, mirroring my stance. It's a defensive move, but she makes it look like a challenge.

"So what, you're my Hades now? I make a deal, and you own me?" Her voice drips with contempt, but there's something else there too. A curiosity she can't quite hide.

I tilt my head, considering the reference. Greek mythology. Interesting choice. I roll it around in my mind—Hades, ruler of the underworld. The god who took what he wanted and never gave it back.

"If the shoe fits." I straighten up from the car, closing the distance between us by a single step. Just enough to make her have to look up at me.

I see the moment she realizes the name will stick. That little flash of regret in her eyes, knowing she's handed me something I can use. Hades. I like it. The master of the underworld. The man who never lets go of what belongs to him.

Kendra's pulse jumps in her throat—a tell she can't control. She hates how well the comparison fits. How easily I've stepped into the role she's assigned me.

I watch her hesitate, her mind working behind those sharp eyes. Kendra Washington isn't used to being cornered. She's the one who usually holds all the cards—but tonight, she's coming up empty.

I step closer, not touching her but making sure she feels me. The air between us becomes charged, electric. Her scent hits me—something expensive and subtle that doesn't announce itself but lingers. Just like her.

"Think about it," I murmur, letting my voice drop to that register that I know makes people uneasy. With her, I see it has a different effect—her pupils dilate slightly, that steady pulse in her throat jumping. "But we both know you're out of options."

I don't need to spell it out for her. Griffin's debt isn't going away, and Armando isn't known for his patience or mercy. She knows exactly what happens to people who can't pay. And now she knows I'm offering her a way out—at a price.

I turn and walk away, feeling her eyes on my back as I slide into my car. In the rearview mirror, I watch her standing there, unmoving, her silhouette sharp against the streetlight. She's still processing, still weighing her options. Still thinking she might find another way.

She won't.

I never force. I tempt. I create situations where the choices are clear, and the only logical path leads right to me. It's a game I've perfected over the years—one I never lose.

The drive home gives me time to think. Kendra's "Hades" comment replays in my mind. Most people in this city know me as many things—businessman, enforcer, capo. But a god of the underworld? That's new. I roll down my window, letting the cool night air clear my head. She's getting under my skin, and I'm not entirely sure I hate it.

When I pull up to my home, I already hear the commotion inside. The security system beeps as I unlock the door, and I'm immediately greeted by a storm of fur and excitement.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter as Paige, my yellow lab, crashes into my legs with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Her tail whips back and forth with enough force to clear a coffee table, which she's done more than once. Behind her, Penny hangs back, her brown and black fur practically vibrating with anxiety as she waits her turn.

I crouch down, letting Paige assault my face with sloppy kisses while I reach out to scratch Penny under her chin. "Come here, girl. I didn't forget about you."

Penny approaches cautiously, like she always does, her full tail wagging with measured enthusiasm. Where Paige is chaos incarnate, Penny calculates every move. She reminds me of myself in that way.

"At least someone in this house has some fucking dignity," I say, running my hand through her thick fur. She leans into my touch, finally convinced I'm not bringing danger home with me.

Luca's words from last week float through my mind as I watch them. ' Collecting another stray ?' he'd asked with that empty grin of his. Like these dogs, he'd implied—another broken thing I was trying to fix.

I smirk to myself as I stand, shrugging off my jacket. Maybe. But Kendra Washington isn't broken. She isn't lost or scared or in need of saving.

This one fights back.

And that's exactly what makes her interesting. She's not afraid of me—or at least, she's determined not to show it. In a world where most people either fear me or try to use me, her defiance is... refreshing.

I move to the kitchen, the dogs trailing behind me. Paige nearly slips on the hardwood in her excitement, banging into the wall with a thud that doesn't even slow her down. This dog has survived purely on luck and my intervention.

"You two eat yet?" I ask, knowing damn well my housekeeper would have fed them hours ago. But their expressions suggest starvation is imminent if I don't immediately remedy the situation.

So I give in. Just like I always do with them. They've always been my exception to my rules.

I fear I've just found another.