Page 92 of The Colour of Revenge

“You really were,” he says, laughing. His laugh is warm, easy, the kind that makes lines crease around his mouth. “Like a little lamb stumbling into a wolf’s den.”

“I’d only been out in the world for a few months!” I protest, though the memory still twists in my gut.

“I know,bella. That’s what makes it funny. You’re so different now.”

The words settle heavily between us, a quiet reminder of how far I’ve come—or how far I’ve fallen. My mind drifts to that first meeting, the moment I walked into his life as nothing more than a trembling, desperate girl clutching a bag full of cash.

My jeans had felt out of place, too plain against the polished, expensive sharpness of the men sitting at the tables in the dim lights of the bar.

I hadn’t belonged there, and they all knew it.

Enzo had sat in the far corner, a glass of amber liquid in one hand, his presence impossible to miss. Even sitting, he had radiated authority, a man who didn’t need to command respect—it was just given.

My legs felt like lead, but I’d forced them to carry me forward. He’d seen me before I reached him, his sharp eyes locking onto me, sizing me up. He leaned back in his chair, face hard but his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

“E cosa abbiamo qui?6”he drawled; his voice smooth but edged with danger.

“I—I need your help,” I’d stuttered, gripping the strap of my bag tighter.

He’d motioned me closer.

When I reached the table, he didn’t speak right away. He just studied me, his gaze dissecting every inch of me, seeing straight through to my desperation.

“And what makes you think I can help you,bella?” he asked, his voice like silk laced with steel.

“I need someone to make someone disappear. From every database. Every system. Like they never existed,” I’d said, my voice trembling but determined.

His eyes widened. “Quite the request. And what makes you think you can afford me?”

I pulled the envelope of cash from my bag and slid it across the table, my hands shaking. It was everything I’d had.

He glanced at it, then back at me. “You’re serious.”

I nodded. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You don’t strike me as the ‘anything’ type.”

Heat had rushed to my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. “I’ll prove you wrong if I have to.”

His gaze held mine for a long, suffocating moment. Then he chuckled, low and dark. “You’ve got guts,bella. I like guts. But guts won’t save you if you’re wasting my time. Understand?”

I nodded quickly. “I understand.”

“Good. Then let’s talk about how I’m going to make you disappear.”

I shake my head, the memory fading as a small smile plays on my lips.

I hadn’t known just who he was then. I’d known what he could do for me, but had I known he was Mafia, I might have thought twice about approaching him.

I’m glad I didn’t.

I’m not that trembling girl anymore. I’ve learned to play the wolves’ game—and win.

But right now, I feel like I’m losing.

“I want to make them hurt.” My voice is quiet, the words spoken mostly to myself, but Enzo hears me.

His expression hardens.