Let Me Love You

“Mmmm. That feels good.” I let free a moan as a pair of strong arms swallowed me up into a warm embrace, but the fog of sleep had yet to be lifted.

“I’m back, cara mia,” a husky voice whispered into my ear, and Enzo’s words officially shocked me out of my dreamlike state.

He was there in bed with me, and I wasn’t imagining it. Turning toward him, I felt him readjust his arm, settling it on my hip while drawing me closer, and my hands slid between us to cup his cheeks.

I wasn’t sure what time it was, but morning had to be around the corner. Syracuse by plane was a short flight, but had he really gone and come back before the sun came up?

“You’re here.” Tears of relief filled my eyes, and I slid my palm in small circles along his jawline. He kept his eyes shut, leaning into my touch. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I must’ve drifted off while waiting for you to call. But you’re here instead.”

“I’m here,” he murmured in a groggy-sleepy tone. “And I’m glad you slept. You needed it.”

“Sounds like you need it now.”

“All I need is you,” he returned in a low voice without opening his eyes.

I brushed my mouth over his and surrendered to the surprise of his tongue sliding between my lips for a soft but sultry kiss.

“Mmmm. I needed that,” he said a moment later, opening his eyes. “Long night.”

“I’m assuming if you’re cuddling me, everyone is okay. Your brothers and the guys you worked with?” My heart did an unexpected little tap dance against my rib cage when I noticed the slight curl of his lips downward. There was enough light in the room to make out every detail of this handsome man’s face, and I was glad to see it was unmarked by wounds.

“We’re all okay, but things didn’t go as planned.”

I let go of his cheeks and slid one hand into his messy hair.

“A lot of people wanted the man we were after, and we didn’t get to him in time. He was killed before we arrived. We were under heavy fire from more than one enemy. They converged on our location, and things got dicey.”

I snaked my hand around the back of his neck to pull myself even closer, and his tired eyes kept falling shut, clearly fighting like hell to stay awake. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” was all I managed. “You don’t need to talk now,” I said, noticing his breathing slowing down, his body slipping nearly into sleep. “Get some rest, babe.”

“Babe?” His tone was warm and slid over my skin. “I like that.” And then he went quiet, and I was pretty sure my exhausted man had fallen asleep.

I stayed awake for a little bit with his arm protectively over me and my hand behind his neck, playing out scenarios in my head of the “dicey” situation and what may have happened to him while he’d been gone.

I fell asleep at some point, and when I woke up, I patted the mattress in search of him, finding myself alone. Terror climbed into the walls of my chest at the idea it’d been a dream and he’d never come back.

Soft light filtered through a small opening in the curtains, and when I rolled over to check the clock, I couldn’t believe it was already nine in the morning.

I forced myself to sit and checked my phone on the nightstand to see if Enzo had ever texted last night, still worried I’d made up his homecoming in my head. But there weren’t any notifications.

Once out of bed, I changed into yoga pants, a sports bra, and one of my worn-out tees from my college days.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the question, “Are you decent?” a moment later. I opened up, realizing it was Angela, Enzo’s mom.

We hadn’t spoken since the Pablo fiasco in the dining room last night, and after Enzo had left with his brothers, I’d pretty much hidden in the bedroom.

“Is Enzo home?” Please say yes and I wasn’t dreaming.

“He’s in the study downstairs.”

Thank God. My hand slammed to my chest with relief.

She leaned into the interior doorframe, her dark-brown eyes focused on me, concern still swirling there, and I wasn’t sure why it felt pointed my way. “I know what happened last night.”

About the operation or the fact we made love in the bed behind me? And now my cheeks were probably a shocking shade of red.

I wanted to make a beeline for the study and throw myself into Enzo’s arms. Learn the details of what happened and decide if I was safe to exit panic mode or whether I needed to stay swimming there, fighting the tides, a bit longer.

“My daughter’s killer is still out there, and that’s why the extra security,” she finally spoke, sharing the grave news, and now I understood her face, her posture, her overall everything.

“And I know my sons are trying to find out who did it, and I trust they’ll get to the bottom of it.” She reached for a crucifix atop her dressy black blouse and smoothed it between her fingers. “My husband also shared that my cousin’s men nearly hurt you yesterday, and I’m so sorry for that. Giovanni and his family are coming over in a little bit to offer their apologies, if you’re okay with that?”

Am I okay with meeting a crime boss? Not really. “As long as Enzo is good with that.”

She nodded. “I know it must seem shocking that my family is mafia, but the Sicilians have a very small piece of the organized-crime pie over here in America. Back in Italy, things were different. And the fact your mother never told you—”

“Wait, my mom knows your family is mafia?”

She nodded. “Your mother got mixed up with a man who worked for my father early on in her life. But after she married your father, she ran into him again, and that’s when my husband saved her from him. I felt horrible about it all, and, well, we became close friends.”

Wow. So my mom was right. We did both have a “type.” But unlike Mom’s ex, Enzo was a good man.

“Enzo told me this morning why you’re really here with him.” Her tone was soft, a whisper of apology in her voice. “You’re here to keep him from going off the deep end. And seeing the way he looks at you,” she said while letting go of the crucifix, “makes me feel like there’s still hope for all my boys. Hope they’ll all settle down and fall in love one day.”

Oh, wow. Um. What was I supposed to say to that? I was barely awake, and I didn’t trust myself to not trip all over my words.

“From mother to mother, thank you for teaching my boy how to feel more than hate and anger. Teaching him how to love again.” She reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sure he’d like to see you now.” And then she left, as if she hadn’t just tilted my world, shifting it off its axis for a moment.

It took me a few deep breaths before I could unglue myself from my position and search for him.

I found him with Constantine downstairs in the study. Constantine was focused on a laptop. Enzo was in black sweats and a black tee standing off to his side, a hand on the desk, studying whatever was on Constantine’s screen.

I remained in the doorway, relieved to see him. He lifted his head, gaze shifting to me, and the harsh lines of stress disappeared. His face relaxed before his lips twitched into a slight smile.

“Hi.” I tossed my hand in the air for the second nervous greeting that morning, and his smile broadened before he stood tall.

Enzo rounded the desk, and I couldn’t stop myself—I ran to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his hips, and he captured me and held me tight, his mouth working fast to find mine. “Tesoro,” he whispered against my lips between soft, reassuring kisses.

He was okay. My man was okay.

There was a deep throat clear a few moments later, but it came from behind me, which meant someone else had joined us in the room.

I slid free from Enzo’s arms, and once my feet found the ground, I turned to see who was there. Enzo snatched my hips, holding my back to his chest as if unbothered by the fact his father had caught us kissing.

“Anything yet?” their father asked, eyes on Constantine.

“Should have the list downloaded in five minutes,” Constantine spoke up. “I had to write a new program to decode the damn thing. This type of encryption is even a few levels above what the Agency uses.”

“The list?” I asked, turning back to face Enzo, hoping he’d clue me in. I still had no idea what happened last night other than the man they were after died and things had been “dicey.”

“Enzo, the less she knows the better.” His father’s warning coated my skin in chills, and Enzo never broke eye contact with me despite his words.

“She knows enough at this point that hearing the rest won’t make a difference,” Enzo remarked, and my shoulders relaxed at the fact he wasn’t planning to keep me in the dark. He took my hand and tipped his head toward the door. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“Be back in five,” Constantine said. “I’ll have the answers then.”

We faced Mr. Costa, and he hesitantly moved aside so we could leave, but the sharp, almost disappointed look he gave Enzo didn’t exactly do wonders for my nerves.

“Is he mad at you?” I asked once we were in the hall.

“He can get over it.” He tightened his hold on my hand, and we went into the room one door down. It was a movie theater. Rows of leather recliners in front of a massive screen.

He shut the door and set his back to it, one hand on my hip, his gaze on me. An exhausted, pained look in his eyes.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Enough, don’t worry.” He brushed his knuckles over my cheek, his brows slanting.

“Hard not to worry about everything right now.”

“I’m so sorry.” His hand moved to my arm, and he gently squeezed. His eyes fell closed as if harsh memories from last night pulled at the edges of his mind, and he was probably worried how to share them.

I set my hand over his heart, finding it thudding hard and fast. “What happened?”

“The CIA officers who picked up the cleaner from border control were crooked. From what Jesse’s team determined, they grabbed him to get the list and silence the cleaner before he could talk to anyone else,” he finally shared. “They may have even killed the cleaner before the ambush.”

Ambush?

“There was another team there when we arrived. Jesse and I managed to get inside the cabin before their team could, and we found a USB on one of the officers. The cleaner’s client list.”

I replayed his words in my head, thinking about the danger he’d been in. Deep breaths, I reminded myself.

“We were on our way out when we were attacked again. Based on what we could tell afterward, it was by a different crew. Thankfully, Carter called in backup, too. He hadn’t been sure if they’d make it in time, though, which was probably the only reason he’d allowed us to join him in the first place.” He shook his head. “So we were lucky we had that assist. We needed the extra numbers or we may not have . . .”

He let those harsh words remain hanging in the air, recognizing I didn’t want to hear the fact he could have died last night.

He lightly squeezed my arm, reminding me he was alive and there with me. “Constantine convinced Jesse’s boss to give us a copy of the USB before we came home. And we’re hoping the answer to who was responsible for killing Bianca is on there.”

“If so many dangerous people are after that list, is there a chance someone can connect the dots you were there? I mean, you flew there in your private jet, and—”

“We thought of that.” He interrupted my frantic thoughts. “Fortunately, Carter’s team has connections all the way up to the White House. People he trusts. And they erased the fact my brothers and I were ever in Syracuse. The flight records have been altered so there’s no digital footprint we were even there.”

“But?” I could feel the bad news coming.

“The second the cleaner went on the run after he realized he’d been compromised by Jesse’s team . . . well, it’s possible all of his clients went on high alert, realizing their identities and crimes might be revealed if the cleaner were to be captured.” His gaze softened with regret. “And that’s why we still have the extra security here.”

“But the cleaner’s dead, so won’t the bad guys assume their secrets died with him?”

“That’s what we’re hoping. But if anyone found out about the list and that Carter and his men now have it . . .”

“They’ll be targeted.” I finished his trailed-off thought.

“They can handle that. They’re okay with being bait, drawing the fuckers to them and right into a trap. It’s what they do. And no one knows we have a copy or that my brothers and I were ever there,” he reminded me, trying to keep me sane. “Our identities are safe.”

“Do you need to help them?”

“They have plenty of additional reinforcements now. They don’t need us. So we’re focusing on Bianca’s killer, and we’ll hopefully have that name any minute.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something else? Something you haven’t told me?”

“I just have a bad fucking feeling in my gut.” His shoulders dropped as he shared with a slight tremble in his tone, “I’m worried that I missed something and I’ll lose the only woman I’ve ever been in love with because I was distracted.” He closed his eyes. “What if my love for you is what gets you killed?”

Love? I tensed, swallowing as my stomach flipped and my brain turned to mush. I was pretty much out of order at his words. “Enzo,” was the best I could get to exit my lips before a call came through for him.

“It’s Jesse. He must’ve decrypted the list faster than us, and he’s letting us know.” He brought the phone to his ear. “What do you know?” His gaze cut to the floor, and he let go of a heavy exhale. “No,” he said a moment later, “I have no fucking clue why they’d want her dead. I need to talk to my family. Watch your back. Stay safe.”

“What’d he say?” I asked after he ended the call.

“Remember when I told you there are five main families in the Italian American mafia?” I nodded at the memory from our plane ride to New York. “Well, one of those families, the Brambillas, who happen to have the most power now, hired the cleaner. The files directly tie them to her case.”

“So the Italian mafia was responsible for her death, just not the Sicilian branch of the mafia?” I searched for clarification.

“Looks like it, but I don’t understand why. We don’t have any contact with them. As far as I know, my father never threatened them. Unlike Giovanni, the Brambillas are much more powerful, and it’d be a death wish if . . .” His words trailed off at that, and shivers darted up my spine. “I thought my sister may have been murdered because of someone she may have loved, and like Izzy, she didn’t want me to know about him, knowing I wouldn’t approve.”

“But she wouldn’t fall in love with someone in the mafia, would she?”

“No, like hell would my sister—” He dropped his words and his head. “No, it can’t be.”

“What?” I reached for his arm, urging him to look at me.

“The story she wrote just before she died, well, she told me it was based on a true story. But she said no one would ever know that.”

I thought back to the story published in the magazine, trying to remember the details. “And you think it might be based on her own life, and she just wrote the ending she hoped she’d get?”

Love. A happily-ever-after. Who’d want anything less?

“I don’t know what to think, because if that’s not the case, that means only one thing.”

“And that is?”

“That my father more than likely pissed someone off in the Brambilla crime family, and he’s responsible for her death.” He opened the door and shot a quick look back at me, and I could read his thoughts.

No mercy.