Emilia’s POV
When Enzo's eyes fix on me, burning with a fire that both terrifies and excites me, I hardly could breathe. Though none of us is ready to touch, a live wire neither of us is pulled to—to each other, here we are—drawn to each other, by some twisted, unbreakable force.
"You didn't have to follow me," I remark, voice low as I lean against the marble countertop, seeming calm even though my heart is pounding.
Enzo's eyes close. "You shouldn't have come here Emilia alone." His words are sharp, menacing, yet I feel a flutter of something gentler under. Anxiety? Enzo De Luca is not worried. He orders and he governs.
My arms cross to challenge him. "Perhaps I do not need a babysitter. Or is it difficult for you to swallow?
He advances, his shadow covering me and narrowing the spac
