Page 142 of Madness & Mercy

He laughs without humor. “Kid, I’m not your priest. Don’t confess to me. Honestly, I’m almostimpressedyou’ve still got a heartbeat. If Luca had figured you out first, we wouldn’t be having this conversation… you’d be fertilizer out by the roses.”

I swallow hard. “Where’s Luca now?”

“Out running an errand with Nico. They’ll be back tonight.” His gaze narrows slightly. “He told me to keep an eye on you, and I always follow orders.”

Something burns in my chest, hot and sharp. “They seem… close.”

Enzo raises an eyebrow. “They grew up together, survived a lot of the same shit. Luca’s practically family.”

My brow furrows, and he catches it instantly.

“You’re notjealous,are you?”

“What? No.”

He laughs under his breath. “Sure. Listen, you two ain’t exactlysubtle.You don’t need to sneak around—we really don’t give a shit. And by the way, Luca’s married to a woman named Marisol. She’s a saint for putting up with him, but she drives him insane. You’ve got nothing to worry about… unless, of course, you give us areasonto start worrying.”

My jaw clenches. “I wasn’t worried.”

Enzo tilts his head, smiling like a shark. “Sure you weren’t. Anyway…”

Enzo pushes off the railing and starts walking toward the kitchen.

I follow, because what else am I going to do? Sit around in Nico’s room smelling his damn pillow until he gets back?

“You hungry?” Enzo asks, rummaging through the fridge. “Chef’s off today, but we’ve got enough leftovers to feed a small army. Which is about right for this place.”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, leaning on the counter.

“Suit yourself.” He pours himself a glass of water and pulls out a plate stacked with something pasta-adjacent and throws it in the microwave. “So. How’s sleeping in the big boss’s bedroom?”

My head jerks up.

His grin is all teeth. “What? You think we don’t notice when Nico actually lets someone in there? The guy guards that room like it’s the crown jewels. Hell, I’ve known him over ten years and I’ve been inside maybe twice, and one of those times was because I kicked the door in.”

“That’s not—”

“Not what? Not a big deal?” He props himself on the counter across from me, arms folded, watching me like he’s waiting for me to lie so he can call me on it.

I scoff, but it sounds weak even to my own ears. “You think I’m here because he likes me? Trust me, the guy hates my guts.”

Enzo smirks, slow and knowing. “I think you’re here because he hasn’t put a bullet in your skull yet. And with Nico, that’s practically a fuckin’ Hallmark card.”

The microwave beeps. He pulls out his plate and takes a slow sip of water without breaking eye contact.

“And before you start worrying I’m here to scare you off, you can forget it,” he says. “I’m just telling you, whatever the hell’s going on between you two? Don’t screw it up. Nico’s… different with you.”

My jaw flexes. “Different how?”

Enzo leans back, fork in hand. “For starters, I don’t have to drag his ass outta bars after he’s half-killed somebody. He doesn’t walk around looking like he’s deciding who to strangle first. He evensmilesnow. Creeps me the hell out, if I’m being honest. Last week, I pissed him off and hedidn’tthreaten to break my kneecaps. That’s growth.”

I snort. “You’re full of shit.”

“Maybe.” He takes a bite and shrugs. “But I’ve seen Nico put nine rounds into a guy and finish his drink before the body hit the floor. Then you show up, and suddenly he’s Mr. Fuckin’ Rogers. You’re under his skin, whether you like it or not.”

I turn away before he can see my expression. “No, I’m not.”

“Sure,cagniolo.”