Enzo’s thumb strokes over my knuckles. “Hunter’s dad is a retired police officer, so he grew up around crime scenes. His parents told us to get our shit together and lent us the start-up cash to create the company.”
“How old were you?”
“I was twenty at the time. Hunter’s a couple of years older than me. Private security seemed like the most flexible and varied job we could find.”
I watch the brief smile dancing across his lips. The sense of pride is obvious, from the light that sparks in his eyes as he recalls his humble roots, to the determined set of his shoulders that reflects the unshakeable faith that got him this far.
“It was just the two of us as we established ourselves,” Enzo continues. “For several years, we focused on private security. Once we knew the business, we took on more criminal investigations.”
“Like my case?”
“Sometimes. We usually get the hard ones that law enforcement can’t crack. We’re good at what we do. People started to notice, and an investor helped us expand more. Twelve years later, here we are.”
“When did Theo join?”
“Around eight years ago. He was nineteen at the time. We got him off a hacking charge that would’ve resulted in prison time.”
I gape at him. “Theo? Really?”
Enzo chuckles. “He has the least respect for the law out of us all, little one. There isn’t a database he won’t attempt to hack.”
In the small amount of time I’ve spent with Theo, he was kind and thoughtful. I’m struggling to imagine him getting arrested.
“He built the intelligence department from the ground up and broke into a whole new side of the business. We’ve been very lucky.”
“You’re good at what you do, that’s not luck.”
“We’ve made our fair share of mistakes,” Enzo mutters. “There was this case a few years back. We took on a corrupt medical corporation, running an empire of psychiatric institutes. It nearly destroyed the entire company.”
His face changes—growing darker, shadowed by suffering and regret. I watch his throat bob with emotion.
“Hunter lost his hearing the year after, and we were grieving for… well, someone important. Getting through it all felt impossible.”
“I’m sorry, Enz.”
“It’s alright. We figured things out.”
The waitress reappears with a tray propped over her shoulder. Enzo’s mouth slams shut as he accepts the drinks, taking a black coffee and a water for himself.
I don’t miss the way she checks out his muscled chest while he’s distracted. The urge to scratch her eyes out overwhelms me.
“These all for you, hun?” she asks with a wan smile.
My mouth hangs open, but no words come out. I just stare at her, silently panicking. Her eyebrow raises as she looks at me like I’m stupid. I want to curl up under the table and hide.
“I’ll take those,” Enzo interrupts, snatching the tray from her. “That’ll be all, thanks.”
Dismissed, she leaves with a glare sent my way. I work on uncurling my clenched fist as Enzo drops three drinks in front of me. Why can’t I be normal? I had to go and embarrass him.
“I thought you could choose.”
“Thank you,” I force out. “Sorry, I panicked.”
“Stop apologising and drink up.”
Sticking a straw in the cloudy juice in front of me, I take a long drag and hum in contentment. It’s exotic and fruity, kinda like the smell of Leighton’s citrus shampoo, but sweeter.
“This is good. What is it?”