Page 27 of Twisted Vows

Everything about her screams entitlement. Her fingers trail the fountain’s edge like she’s blessing it, her head tilted imperiously, her eyes never bothering to acknowledge the people who part for her. Enzo’s warm breath tickles my ear. “That’s Izzy Benedetti.”

The legacy crime queen has satin clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her dark hair spills down her back in glossy waves.

She glides over to wrap herself around Enzo like ivy.

“Enzooo. I didn’t know you were giving garden tours.” She smiles tightly, her lips red as a threat.

“Izzy.” I’m polite yet venomous. “Nice to meet another woman who accessorizes with ego.”

Enzo doesn’t flinch.

Izzy’s eyes sharpen. “Careful, sweetheart. He doesn’t like biting unless he’s the one doing it.”

Enzo’s jaw tightens. His gaze cuts to Izzy in warning.

“Noted.” I keep my voice saccharine.

He stiffens when she clings to his arm. He doesn’t lean in or acknowledge her at all, really.

His attention stays fixed ahead, his body rigid. Interesting.

Izzy’s fingers trail up his bicep, her lips parted, her gaze hungry as she presses in. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.

Enzo’s expression never changes. He could be sculpted from marble. His free hand flexes once at his side, like he’s counting down the seconds until he can extract himself from her.

Izzy looks like she wants to lick him all over. Her fingers trail up his arm in a possessive, practiced gesture.

He doesn’t flinch, but he does look like he’d rather clean his gun than endure her touch. There’s history here. The kind that leaves scars or bruises. Maybe both. I file that away for later. His attention drifts as they exchange words I can’t hear and laughter I don’t believe. This is my escape window.

Someone calls Izzy’s name from across the garden.

She sighs dramatically. “Duty calls, darling. Don’t go anywhere.”

She plants a kiss on Enzo’s cheek and saunters off, her hips swaying.

Enzo watches her go, his focus elsewhere for just a moment. I inch away, into a shadow. Then another.

My heart races, and my hands grow cold. Ahead, I spot a stone wall. Maybe six feet high.

I run, grab the ledge, and try to haul myself up.

“Really?” Enzo’s amused voice only fuels my desire to scale the wall.

With a grunt, I swing one leg up as a strong arm encircles my waist and yanks me down. My back hits the structure as his body pins me in place. Heat and pressure thunder in my veins.

His breath grazes my ear. “I admire the effort. But next time, aim higher.”

My cheeks flush, and my chest heaves. Like a treacherous, wicked thing, my body softens beneath him.

I hate him.

I hate this pull.

“I was just…stretching.”

“Sure.”

I blink, then blurt, “I have to see my mother. If you know me so well, you must know she’s sick. She needs me.”