Page 29 of The Bonventi Secret
As I continue down the hallway, I now can't shake the unsettling feeling of being watched. Guards everywhere. 24/7.
I know Enzo presents these men as being here to protect me, but I haven't accepted it yet. Their presence only reminds me of my captivity. I'm safe from outside threats, sure, but it's not like I was in danger before arriving.
I round a corner and spot the suite at the end of the hall. Two guards stand at attention on either side of the door, their faces stern and bodies rigid.
As I approach, one of them shifts to open the door for me. "Good evening, Miss Falcone," he says, his voice dry and emotionless.
I don't know what to say, so I simply nod as I pass them, stepping into the suite. A dimly lit hallway leads into the bedroom, and I follow it, trying to make as little noise aspossible. The door closes behind me so silently I do a double take just to make sure it's even closed.
When I come into the main bedroom area, it's dark, and my eyes are slow to adjust. I don't hear anything, and the lump of darkness I see on the bed I assume to be Enzo sleeping. I breathe a sigh of relief. The last thing I need right now is another confrontation.
I make my way towards the en-suite bathroom. My hand reaches for the doorknob, but before I can turn it, the door swings open.
"Oh, fuck!" I call out, stumbling back, the words exit my mouth before I can stop them.
Enzo stands there, shirtless, water droplets clinging to his skin. He's just stepped out of the shower, a towel slung low on his hips.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
I should look away. I should turn around and leave. But I can't. My eyes are drawn to him, taking in every detail against my will.
His chest is chiseled, broad, and muscular - tapering down to his rippled six-pack abs and narrow waist. His arms are thick, his biceps tense, and his skin marked by a few faint scars that hint at a rough past. There's an undeniable power and raw physicality to him that makes my body start to tingle.
And then there are the tattoos.
Over his heart, there's an intricate family crest, the lines sharp and bold against his skin. On his upper right arm, a lion wearing a crown stares out fiercely, as if challenging anyone who dares to look upon it. Along his collarbone, elegant Italian script reads "Onore e lealtà"—honor and loyalty.
But it's the raven on the left side of his chest that truly captures my attention. Its wings are spread in flight, the detail so fine I can almost see each individual feather. There's something haunting about it.
I realize I'm staring, my eyes tracing the lines of his body with an intensity that shocks me. My heart is pounding in my chest so loudly I'm sure he must be able to hear it. I feel the flush creeping up my neck, and my mouth suddenly feels dry.
I have to swallow hard before I can speak.
"I... I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," I stammer, averting my gaze.
Enzo's lips curl into a smirk. "Clearly," he says, his voice low and deep.
I should leave.
I know I should, but my feet seem rooted to the spot, my body betraying me in the worst possible way.
Enzo takes a step toward me. He's close now, so close I can smell the clean scent of his soap.
"See something you like, cara mia?" he asks, his voice a low.
I open my mouth to retort, but no words come out. I shouldn't be reacting this way—he's the enemy, but his raw masculinity, his undeniable allure, it's overpowering.
"I... I thought you were asleep," I finally manage to say, hating how weak my voice sounds, how rattled my thoughts are.
"You know," he says, leaning in close, his breath hot against my ear, "if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask."
That snaps me out of my daze.
"Please," I say with a scoff. "I was just going to wash my face and change."
Enzo steps aside. "I'll dress out here, you can have it all to yourself."
I don’t hesitate and all but flee into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I lean against it, my heart still racing, my skin still flushed.
