Page 27 of Enzo's Vow
“You don’t have enough in your luggage.” His gaze snapped to mine, the fierceness no different from when he confronted his guard dogs. “You need more clothes. We have events coming up.”
How would he know what my luggage contained? Had he been snooping? The nerve of the man! His mere presence made my pulse race. I clenched my jaw, resolve zapping through my veins. “I willnotgo anywhere with you.” The afternoon strolls were a different scenario—my one escape, a breath of fresh air since I was trapped in this house all day. Psychopath knew it too, knew I wouldn’t dare step outside with those dogs around. But to attend social events on his arm, pretending we were some blissfully married couple? I scoffed. “Not a chance.”
“You will if you know what’s good for you.” He stalked right to me and tipped my chin. “Don’t make this an ordeal. Pick a few outfits. Not too hard for a woman, right?” He pinched a strand of my hair that escaped the towel. His gaze narrowed at the damp lock sliding between his fingers.
I used his distraction to my advantage. “What type of events are we talking about here?” More mafia weddings? Gangster summits? What on earth could be so important I required designer gowns?
“We’ll discuss them later.” His gaze flickered to my lips, a muscle twitching near his eye. “Right now, I have to leave for an important conference.” He stepped back, his movements abrupt, jerky, as if he fought to drag himself away.
Important conference? I imagined him in a back alley, bludgeoning some poor guy for not paying up. “What’s on the agenda today? You need to fill some boots with concrete and dump someone in the sea?”
He froze in his tracks, rubbing at his nape as he turned to face me again. “Excuse me?”
I pressed, heedless of my tongue. “Are you planning on leaving a decapitated horse in someone’s bed?” I bet his family inspired the scenes in those movies.
He squinted, his stare cold. “You think I’m a mobster?”
I smacked my hands on my hips. “You’re related to some big-league don. Iknowwhat you are.” Besides, being drugged and abducted implied criminal activity.Mafia activity!
He slid his hands into his pockets, a smugness tightening his jaw. “Ever heard of Cammarata Co?”
“No.” Did he and his mob-squad have their own certified logo?
“It’s a construction supplies company.” He tilted his chin, his voice a tad boastful. “My company.”
He’s the CEO of a manufacturing company?Perhaps the business masqueraded as a front. “So… no criminal activities on the side?”
“For your information, no.” His glare could have cut glass. “I’m not affiliated with my mother’s side.”
Not in the mafia? “Then why the guards? This whole estate is a fortress, and you carry a gun.”
He looked toward the ceiling, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. “Just because I’m not connected with my mother’s family doesn’t mean we don’t share their enemies. The guards, the guns… it’s all necessary.”
“Oh.” I stared at the glossy tiles. How had I been here this long and missed this about him?
“Yeah,oh.” Derision laced his tone. “Maybe you’ll get your facts right instead of accusing me of working for the mafia.”
Could he blame me? After everything he put me and my family through? My fingers twitched, itching to hurl something at him. “I guess between the whole kidnap and forced marriage drama, asking about your occupation slipped my mind.”
The red-faced assistant glanced between us and tweaked the hem of her top.
Poor woman, I almost forgot she stood in the room. She was just doing her job, so rather than giving her trouble, I prowled to the clothes. “Ready?” Not as though I cared about the items, but they were a good distraction and a way to dodge Enzo.
Her taut, penciled brows eased, and she unhooked two dresses from the racks. “Try these on and tell me if you like them.”
Enzo grasped the hint he was being ignored and strolled to the door. “See you this afternoon, Gemma.”
With a flippant hand, I waved him away, not bothering to bid him goodbye.
I tried on the chosen gowns, plus a few others, not finding anything suitable to my comfort or style. Most of the garments revealed too much cleavage, too much thigh, making me squirm in my reflection. Rosetta complimented each ensemble, praising my lean figure. I matched each look to different shoes without complaint, just wanting this entire session over with. We finished up, and she mentioned charging the bill to Mr. Cammarata’s account.You betcha!Why should I pay for unnecessary items? He wanted a wife. He could foot the bill. Heck, next time I’d purchase more. Bleed him dry.
Tapper and Scar helped dismantle the racks and cart the stylist’s items out of the room.
Rosetta smiled and nodded at the garment bags piled on the bed. “Mr. Cammarata will be pleased with your choices.”
Enzo, pleased? Nothing ever pleased the man. While the outfits were gorgeous, they in no way matched my style and made me feel highly exposed. I didn’t care to please the man, and found no satisfaction in the new dresses. They were a cage, another means of control disguised in a pretty package.
Rosetta hurried to pack her receipt booklet and pen into her purse. “I hope to see you again. It was a pleasure assisting you.”
