The room was still thick with the smoke of his last words.
Three months. No questions. At the end, she could walk away rich.
Eva had signed, but her hand still trembled as the echo of the pen scratching against paper lingered in her ears. She couldn't tell if she had just secured Noah's future… or sold her soul.
Enzo leaned back in his chair, his dark suit catching the faint amber glow of the chandelier. He poured himself another glass of scotch, the ice clinking sharply against crystal. His movements were unhurried, deliberate like a man who owned not only the space, but the silence between every breath.
"Before we begin," he said, his voice cutting through her storm of thoughts, "you need to understand the rules."
Eva's spine stiffened. "Rules?"
His lips curved, though it was far from a smile. "Yes. Rules keep chaos from destroying order. And if you're going to stay here…" His gaze swept over her like a hand, slow, assessing, lingering too long at her lips. "…then you'll follow mine."
Her pulse thudded in her throat. "And if I don't?"
Enzo leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. "Then you leave. Tonight. But you'll walk away with nothing."
The words landed heavy, cold, final. She thought of Noah's face, of the envelope of overdue bills hidden under her pillow. She couldn't walk away. Not now.
"What are they?" she asked, forcing steadiness into her voice.
He studied her for a long moment, as though measuring how far he could push before she broke. Then, he said it slowly, almost lazily:
"No lies. No leaving. And most of all" he paused, letting the weight settle between them"don't fall for me."
Something inside her jolted.
Her breath hitched, not at the first two demands, but at the third. Don't fall for him. As if it was even possible. As if her body, already betraying her with every nervous shiver, hadn't been responding to him since the night he first looked at her in that club.
She wanted to laugh, to tell him she would never be that foolish. But his eyes sharp, unreadable held a flicker of something she almost missed. Regret. Pain. Vulnerability, quickly masked.
Why would he forbid that? What wound was he protecting?
Her lips parted, but no words came. She only nodded, though inside, a storm churned.
Enzo rose from his chair, his presence looming larger as he closed the distance between them. He didn't touch her at first. Just circled her slowly, like a predator keeping his prey in place. She felt the heat of his body before his fingers grazed the side of her neck.
The contact was feather light, yet it burned.
Her breath caught.
"This isn't charity," he murmured, his thumb brushing the edge of her collarbone. "You chose this. And every choice has consequences."
His scent surrounded her - scotch, faint smoke, and something darker, sharper, entirely him.
Eva swallowed hard, her mind screaming at her to remember why she was here. Noah. Survival. Her brother's smile, fragile but hopeful, flickered in her memory.
But when Enzo tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes, her resolve wavered. His gaze was molten, dangerous, stripping her defenses with brutal precision.
She whispered, more to herself than to him, "This is wrong."
He lowered his head, his breath warm against her ear. "Then walk away."
The challenge coiled between them, daring her to choose.
Her body betrayed her first. She didn't move. Didn't pull back. Couldn't.
The heat of his palm spread across her skin, grounding and unraveling her all at once. His lips brushed so close to hers that she tasted the faint bitterness of scotch before the kiss even landed.
Every warning in her head screamed. But her heart weak, reckless thudded louder.
When his mouth finally claimed hers, it wasn't gentle. It was demand, hunger, command.
And the most dangerous part?
She kissed him back.