Page 16 of Endless Obsession

“That sounds great. Thanks.”

It was a bit bizarre and slightly surreal that a mafioso was offering me a drink in the apartment that was now my own home. I felt off balance and out of place without Massimo’s reassuring presence, but I squared my shoulders, determined to navigate this strange, unfamiliar situation.

He passed me a frosted can of lemon San Pellegrino and kept a second one for himself.

“Why don’t we sit out on the balcony?” I offered, deciding to play the part of hostess. This was my home, and he was my guest. He was one of Massimo’s closest friends, so that meant he would be my friend too.

We settled into the surprisingly comfortable cushioned chairs on the balcony and sat in silence for a minute. Some of my anxious tension melted as I took in the stunning view once again, marveling that this would be my life now. I longed for my camera, but it was still packed away with my clothes. Unable to resist, I lifted my new phone and snapped a shot of the beautiful vista.

“The lifestyle the Camorra affords must be worth it,” Enzo drawled, dragging my attention back to him. His forest green eyes were keen on my face, his head canted to the side as he studied me.

“What do you mean?” Some of my tension gripped my chest again at the mention of his criminal organization, but I would become accustomed to it. For Massimo, I would accept this darker aspect of his life.

Enzo gestured around us, encompassing the lavish apartment and the sea view. “All of this is yours now. Beats a DEA agent’s meager salary.”

I sat up straighter, my spine stiffening at the mention of George. I didn’t like his implication.

“I’m not with Massimo for his money.” I managed to keep my voice cool and firm, hiding my spike of indignation.

He directed a pointed glance at my neck. “Those diamonds say otherwise.”

I met his challenging stare head-on. “I tried to refuse the diamonds and the fancy clothes. The expense made me uncomfortable, but giving me these things makes Massimo happy. That’s what matters to me. He told me that he grew up with nothing, and he’s sacrificed so much in order to survive. His money makes him feel secure after years of deprivation. If seeing that wealth reflected on me gives him satisfaction, I won’t deny him.”

Enzo rested a corded forearm on the small table, leaning toward me as his gaze sharpened to something even more incisive. “I doubt the money made it difficult for you to leave your fiancé behind.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, irritation and defensiveness getting the better of me. “You don’t know anything about my relationship with George. Massimo saved me from him, and I will always be grateful for that.”

“You mean he saved you from Los Zetas.” Enzo tried to correct me. “My best friend jumped in front of a bullet for you. How do I know you won’t discard him as easily as you left your fiancé?”

My cheeks heated with righteous anger. “I meant exactly what I said: Massimo saved me from George. I will never leave him.”

Enzo’s eyes darkened, and his mouth thinned to a harsh slash, as though he’d bitten into something sour. “Crawford abused you.”

It wasn’t a question.

Judging by his thunderous expression, Enzo didn’t like it any more than Massimo did. It seemed they shared similar moral compasses; neither of them approved of innocent people being hurt.

It shouldn’t surprise me, given their shared history and the way Massimo talked about his friends, as though they were his own brothers. My dark savior would never have such a strong bond with cruel, callous men.

I softened toward Enzo, uncrossing my arms and leaning toward him so that he could read my sincerity plainly on my face.

“I will never do anything to hurt Massimo,” I vowed.

I love him. I barely held the words in. I hadn’t said them to Massimo yet, and it didn’t feel right to tell his friend first.

“I appreciate that you feel protective of him,” I continued, “but so do I. He’s risked his life for me. I would do anything for him.”

Enzo nodded. “He told me that you were shot.”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” I replied. “I was collateral damage when Duarte’s cartel was attacked. I couldn’t get to Massimo before I was shot.”

“But you’re choosing to be with him despite what happened to you. And it’s not about his money.”

I lifted my chin. “I won’t leave him. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

I gave him raw honesty. Massimo’s friend had to understand that I truly wanted to share my life with my dark protector, and that meant Enzo’s opinion mattered to me.

He lifted his drink, tipping it in my direction in a small toast. “Welcome to the family, Evelyn.”

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