Page 102 of Twisted Vows

And I’ve always worked best in the dark.

Chapter 21

Sophia

A soft creak yanks me from restless dreams.

He’s here.

Even before I see him, I know. The air thickens, heavy with smoke, rain, and a scent that’s distinctly him. The house has felt empty without that scent. And too quiet.

He wanders into the hallway, and I move without thinking, crossing the floor and throwing myself against him. His muscles stiffen beneath my touch, his hesitation sharp, then he melts. Large hands settle at my spine, applying a pressure that says more than words.

When he pulls back, my eyes catch the haggard look and the dark spots of blood on his cheeks that I’d missed in my haste.

“What happened to you?”

His face comes near mine. “We’re going on a vacation for a few days.” No explanation. Just that low command that compels people to obey.

“What…” The thin, shaky word barely forms in my mouth.

More questions flare up but die at the back of my throat.

At the sharp rap on the door, Enzo calls out that it’s open. Once Marco and Gio trod in, Enzo immediately gives the duo orders in that clipped tone that I’ve gotten used to.

After Enzo steps out with Gio for another quick errand, Marco lingers, his usual grin absent.

“Do you know why he needs us to go?”

Marco’s eyes dart to the door. “I thought Izzy told you yesterday?”

I start to tell him Izzy only tried to warn me off of Enzo, but then I stop. If I play this right, I’ll get answers faster.

“She told me,” I murmur, “but I still don’t understand why we have to leave?”

Marco frowns. “Sophia, Enzo went to Miami to find your father without sanction from Gabi or the council. Now that he’s been temporarily relieved of his enforcer status, he can’t fully order men to protect you. If the dons decide to clean house, they might start with him. Or you. He needs to take you somewhere safe…his own territory…where he can keep you secure.”

The words smack me like a glass of cold water to the face. This is trouble for Enzo. I know how much pride has always been his armor.

“Sophia?” Marco’s frown deepens. “Are you okay?”

“Yes…” I drag in a long breath. “Thank you. I understand better now.”

I pivot and speedwalk to my room, trying to calm the noise in my head. Packing helps distract me as my hands work almost independently of my mind, folding and zipping in repeat.

When Enzo returns, I watch him move through the closet, grabbing shirts and pants and shoving them into a duffel with mechanical efficiency. No wasted motion. No emotion.

But his jaw is locked tight, his whole body wound up. His hands—the ones that held me so gently earlier—move with cold precision. After two days of missing him, I craved that grip.

He’s shutting me out. Building walls I can’t climb. Whatever happened in Miami broke him.

Once the convoy finally rolls out of the villa, I end up next to Enzo in the front seat. The engine hums, and honestly, my pulse races right along with it.

Marco and Gio tail us in the car behind. Arya, our kind-faced maid who’s tucked in the back seat, is so quiet that I almost forget she’s here.

Enzo’s at the wheel, his clenched jaw signaling that he’s deep in thought. The silence in this car is suffocating. I catch myself staring at Enzo’s profile. The sharp nose. The silver in his hair. The exhaustion carved into his face. Still, he looks…indestructible. Even exhausted, he carries himself like nothing can reach him. But now I know better.

Izzy’s words echo in my head. The string of women before me. The ones he “saved” and then caged. The way he kept her on a leash for years. I don’t know how much is truth and how much is venom, but the doubt has burrowed in. Does he see me as another rescue project? Another woman to protect until she becomes inconvenient?