My ex had on one of his expensive Tom Ford suits, which was tailored to fit his tall and lean frame. The man had always taken care of himself. Worked out four times a week. Meal prepped. And styled his light-brown hair in just a way to give him a magazine-cover-ready look. He kept his beard trimmed and always smelled nice. He was classically handsome and a little too perfect. He’d always made sure I knew that I wasn’t during our marriage.
I self-consciously flung my arms over my chest when I remembered what I was wearing, worried Thomas would see through the flimsy material, and he lost his right to see me when he stuck his tongue between another woman’s legs.
“I knew it.” Those three words ripped from somewhere deep in Thomas’s chest. Words he’d been saving, ready to throw at me. “That’s why she wanted the divorce. You’re fucking my wife.”
I didn’t make it two steps before Thomas snapped out a punch, but Enzo snatched his hand before contact was made, and he simply held Thomas’s fist in the air like it were a fly he’d caught. “Ex-wife,” Enzo seethed. “And the only reason I’m not putting you on your ass right now is because your daughter is asleep in the other room.”
I touched Enzo’s back, hoping to calm him before his control actually did snap. “What are you doing here?”
Thomas had to look around Enzo to put eyes on me. He jerked his hand away and answered, “I’ve been calling to let you know I was on my way to get Chiara, but it looks like you were busy.”
“What do you mean you’re here for Chiara?” Noticing Thomas’s eyes laser-focused on my breasts, I quickly returned my arms over my chest.
And when Enzo turned to the side and peered at me, his brows slanted in anger, clearly not wanting Thomas to see me, either.
“My mom had a heart attack, and she wants to see her granddaughter,” Thomas finally remarked.
“Your robe,” Enzo gruffly stated, ignoring Thomas’s words.
I wasn’t one to obey orders, but I didn’t want any blood spilled on my floors, and I had the distinct feeling Enzo might actually lose his mind if Thomas continued to admire my body. And why in the world was he checking me out now? Desire had been absent from his gaze long before our marriage had ended.
“Is your mother okay?” I finally asked, shaking away my thoughts, and then I motioned for him to follow me. I needed a robe, so it would seem.
Enzo shot his muscular arm out, stopping Thomas. “Give her a moment to cover up,” he nearly snarled, lifting his chin as if saying, Don’t think about arguing.
Thomas scowled, apparently in no mood to cower to the intimidating man today like he’d done in the past. Not that I cared, but he’d grown a pair since we’d split. “My mom will be okay,” he finally answered, eyes back on me. “She’s being discharged from the ER, but I’m taking off work to visit, and I’m bringing Chiara with me.”
My arms fell weakly to my sides at the idea of this man taking my daughter away on a trip without me. Enzo shot me daggers, then hissed something in Italian, and before I knew it, he hurried past me and returned within seconds with my robe in hand. Bossy, bossy.
“My parents live an hour away. It’s not like I’m taking her out of the country. But part of the divorce arrangement is that I get to go on two trips with her a year to see my family. And, well, it’s happening now.” Thomas’s angry stare bounced between Enzo and me as if daring me to challenge him on this or else.
“I need time. I can’t just . . .” I slipped on the robe and tied the belt, and Enzo seemed to breathe again.
“It’s her grandmother. I know you never liked my mom, but this isn’t about you, is it?” Thomas snapped.
“Your mom hates me. Hated us together,” I reminded him. “God, the number of times she complained I wasn’t good enough. Too curvy. Too—”
“Looks like the divorce helped you drop a few pounds,” Thomas noted, his eyes moving over my body yet again, probably to piss off Enzo. Such a bad idea. “Though it seems you kept the curves where they matter.”
Enzo had Thomas against the wall within a second, a forearm to his windpipe. “Go ahead,” Enzo challenged in an eerily low voice, “say that again.”
Thomas gripped Enzo’s forearm, struggling to breathe. He searched for help from me, but he’d been the idiot to goad a man like Enzo.
Reluctantly, I decided to save him. “Enzo.” I grabbed his shoulder and yanked. “Stop.”
Enzo’s shoulders fell, and he finally released him.
Thomas circled a hand around his throat as if mortified at what had happened. “I’m taking Chiara with me. Don’t make me get the lawyers involved,” Thomas declared, and that threat was the real knife to the heart. That was the last thing in the world I wanted.
“How many days?” I’d never been away from her for more than forty-eight hours. He had her only two weekends a month. And it was always hell, those forty-eight or so hours.
“As long as nothing critical with work pops up, I’ll be there until Sunday.” He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket and squared his shoulders, as if trying to regain some of his manhood that Enzo had stolen.
But wait. Sunday? Today was Tuesday. Ohhh hell no. “Thomas, I understand it’s part of our arrangement, but that’s a long trip. And I don’t feel comfortable with this.”
“Well, you have an hour to get comfortable with it, because that’s when I’m leaving, and Chiara’s coming with me.” Thomas turned and shot me a look from over his shoulder. “Bring her to my place by eight, or I’m calling the lawyers, and you’ll be the one with trip restraints.” He snarled as he headed for the door, and I tried to process everything that’d just happened. Was he really threatening me?
“Tell me what you want me to do.” Enzo gently held both my arms, urging me to look at him after the door closed. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
I wasn’t sure what he was asking, but it felt like he was suggesting he could “handle” my ex for me in a way that wouldn’t involve lawyers. Chills crept up my spine at the thought. But he wouldn’t really . . . would he?
My lower lip quivered as his gaze met mine. “Your past really is dark, isn’t it?” I whispered as recognition dawned on me. “And I don’t mean from your time in the army.”
He let go of me and tapped a fist against his lips twice, as if grappling with what to say.
“Dark as in dark-dark?” I couldn’t even ask the real question burning hot through my mind. I’d be naive to think he’d never taken a life while in uniform, but had he taken one outside the army?
“The irredeemable kind of dark, Maria,” he returned in a low voice, and his pained expression as he stared at me was an answer in itself.
“You killed Bianca’s murderer.” It was no longer a question occupying that back corner of my mind. It was now a fact. One scribed in blood.
But that meant someone rewrote the history of what happened to her killer, then, right?
His brows slanted over his guilt-filled eyes. But nothing came from his parted lips.
I drew my palm from my collarbone down to my stomach, trying to quell the flutter of nerves unleashing hell there. “I thought karma killed that man.” My voice cracked with disbelief. “I remember my parents telling me Bianca’s killer had been in a car accident, and he drowned in the Hudson.” I waited for Enzo to say something. Anything. But he kept quiet, so I went on. “Did you cut his brakes? How’d you do it?”
He dipped his head, catching my eyes, and with grit to his tone, he rasped, “Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to have answered.” His Adam’s apple rolled with a harsh swallow. “Let. It. Go.”
“Enzo, please, I need to know if—”
“Yes,” he nearly snarled, his nostrils flaring. “I killed him. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t regret it, not for one second.”
“And if Thomas ever hurt me, you really meant what you said on my birthday?” My gaze landed on the words inked beneath the sword on his forearm. “No mercy?”
He nodded, his jaw tightening beneath his dark stubble. “And, Maria?” He gently held my chin. “When it comes to that man . . . I’d enjoy every fucking minute of it,” he murmured darkly.
FIVE
Enzo