I've been tossing and turning on my bed for four hours, desperate to sleep, but my mind refuses to quiet.
Why?
Because I'm consumed by thoughts of my ex-husband, who's in the same city, breathing the same air as me, but not with me. He's probably with that blonde Alexandra. The mere thought makes me want to run her over with my car.
Darius was the first to leave, saying he had an urgent meeting to attend to. He bid me a pleasant evening, but I lost my appetite. I searched for Enzo, but the staff told me he'd left with Alexandra just minutes before. Now, instead of returning to New York, I'm stuck spending the night in France.
Just as I'm starting to drift off, my phone starts ringing loudly. Zion's face pops up on the screen. It's a video call.
I answer the call, and my twin brother's face fills the screen, his skin smeared with blue paint. I burst out laughing. "Face painting with Lani?"
Zion groans, walking around Zolani's room as her excited laughter echoes in the background. "Your daughter is the devil's spawn. She's going to be worse than you. I'm already seeing the future."
I roll my eyes, chuckling. "Oh, shush."
Zion narrows his eyes, and I sense a lecture coming. "What happened?" he asks, his tone serious.
I frown, pushing myself into a sitting position. "Don't ask me that."
Zion purses his lips. "Come on, Zee, what happened at dinner?"
I take a deep breath, my chest heaving with frustration. "The plan worked. Your hacking skills paid off, and Enzo ended up at my restaurant. But I couldn't do my thing. The hostility between Enzo and Darius was unbearable."
Zion bursts out laughing. "Zee, I don't know how you figured out Enzo's dinner plans..."
"I have a spy in his office." I flash a proud smile, laying back on the bed. "I planted them as soon as Grandpapa told me about the dinner meeting with Darius. And guess what?"
Zion raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"Darius is ridiculously hot, and he's definitely running the Greek Mafia," I say, a sly grin spreading across my face.
Zion's expression turns serious. "Then marry him. Forget Lorenzo. He lied to you all these years about his background, his death, everything. There's nothing between you two anymore."
I glare at Zion, which only makes his face harden.
"Zee, you're going to get into trouble," Zion warns. "Grandpapa wants this marriage to happen, and if Darius is the head of the Greek Mafia, he's definitely aware of it. All the ruling families have bloodstained hands. It's not good if you're obsessed with one of them."
I blink at Zion innocently. "I have you, my knight in blunt armor."
Zion tsk-tsks. "You're never going to listen until you get hurt or something. Anyway, I have news."
I cock my head to the side, intrigued. "What is it?"
"There's a building war between the Salvatores and the Rassais," Zion reveals. "So, making you and Enzo's dinner plans clash wasn't exactly a good idea."
I bite down on my lower lip, feeling both stupid and clever at the same time. "So, they want to kill each other?"
No wonder the glares.
"It's not that visible to the public, but the remaining five families are well aware of it," Zion replies.
I nod slowly, my mind racing. Could this war be the reason Darius left so abruptly? Did he do something to Enzo?
Zion's voice breaks into my thoughts. "What are you thinking, Zee? Don't do anything stupid."
I wave at him, and then hang up. A walk might clear my head. I shower and dress, then walk out of my room and text my driver to meet me. I ask him to take me to a club.
The city pulses with energy at night. When we arrive at the club, I'm immediately struck by the dark, sexy atmosphere. The dim lighting hints at nefarious activities happening in the shadows. My instincts scream at me to leave, but I'm already seated at the bar, ordering liquor.
Before I know it, I'm downing my third shot, handling my liquor like a pro. The bartender raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed.
"Hello," a man says, sliding onto the stool beside me. His wild smile crawls under my skin as he scans me from head to toe.
I'm not exactly dressed for a high-end bar like this – just a white baggy top and matching jeans, my braids pulled back into a ponytail.
But this guy is staring at me like I'm already naked. Pervert.
"Do you want to dance?" he asks, his voice dripping with entitlement. "We can head to my room right after?" He places a hand on my thigh, his touch making my skin crawl.
"No." I jab my nails into his hand, and he jerks it away, his face twisted in pain, shock, and rage.
"Crazy bitch!" he snarls, his hand closing around my wrist like a trap. He leans in close, his stinking breath hot against my face. "I'm going to beat some sense of respect into you."
I should have listened to my instincts. Grandpapa is going to kill me. I wasn't supposed to stay in France this long.
Before I know it, I'm slamming my forehead into the guy's nose. He yells out in pain, his voice piercing above the music and drawing attention to us.
"You broke my fucking nose, bitch!" he shouts, releasing me and standing up.
"Ah! Fuck!" He rubs his red, bloodied nose. Ha! There's so much blood.
I rise to my feet, rubbing my aching forehead. "I should have crushed your balls."
The guy looks livid, and the crowd around us erupts into murmurs, whispers, and laughter.
"Fucking bitch!" he spits, trying to grab my arm.
But before I can even move to punch him, a familiar tattooed hand closes around his wrist, holding him still.
I turn to look at my ex-husband, and my heart skips a beat like a lovesick teenager. Enzo's glare is fixed on the pervert, his eyes flaring with pure, unadulterated rage.
"Sal... Salvatore," the man stammers, his face transformed by fear as he looks at Enzo.
"Baby!" I swoon shamelessly, my drunken state making me bolder. "My knight in shining armor," I coo, hugging Enzo's arm tightly.
The pervert's eyes widen in horror. "She... she's yours?" he asks, before dropping to his knees and lowering his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
I scoff at the guy, then look at Enzo, who's now pointing a gun at the pervert's head. My body turns cold.
Holy shit! What's happening?! There are people watching. If Enzo kills him, Grandpapa will surely find out, and if he discovers I'm with Enzo...
"Uh... you don't have to kill him," I mutter, snatching the gun from Enzo's hand.
He finally looks at me, staring like I'm insane. But he doesn't say a word. Instead, he sighs in exasperation, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the club. I don't complain.
I like where this is going.