“Did you know about this?” I asked her, pointing to a room where I saw three large screens on the wall, and I knew Enzo wasn’t into day-trading like Thomas. So no, those screens weren’t for watching the stock market.
“No.” Natalia squeezed my arm, motioning to go in.
I hesitantly entered, finding Enzo off to my left by some small control-panel thing, and a second later, what appeared to be a mirror slid down and in its place were at least ten types of guns and an array of knives. Not cooking knives.
Holy shit. “What is this?” I whispered in astonishment.
“It’s who I really am,” Enzo said without turning, and the icy tone of his voice provoked a massive wave of shivers to flow down my spine. “Real life. Not fiction. This is me.”
My hip bumped into a nearby table, and my gaze fell to a sheet of paper there. I mindlessly snatched it, my gaze narrowing on the name and photo. My date? “Enzo?” I blinked. “What’d you do to my date?”
He slowly turned. “Did he hurt you? Touch you that night?”
“No.” I quickly shook my head, terror climbing into my throat, squeezing my vocal cords at the idea Enzo might hurt the man I’d had dinner with the other night if he had so much as put a hand on me.
“Then nothing happened to him, Maria,” he casually remarked as if discussing the restaurant’s specials for tonight; then he focused back on packing what appeared to be a heavy-duty case full of weapons.
“I thought you left this life behind,” Natalia said. “Why would you need this room? The screens? The weapons?”
“Because you just never know,” he snapped out; then his shoulders fell as if he regretted his tone. “I know you want answers, but I need to make sure no one else was hired to go after my family in New York.”
“And why would anyone come after any of you?” Ryan asked.
Enzo locked the case and faced us, but his eyes landed on the hoodie. I looked down to see NYU in bold letters. Bianca had attended college there. She must’ve bought it for him, and now . . .
His brows tightened as he kept his gaze focused on the sweatshirt. “It doesn’t make sense, not even in light of the news I learned last night,” he slowly began. “They were sent here to rough me up. Not kill me. Not warn me about anything. My brothers and I haven’t even started poking around to draw attention.” His inked arms slid over his muscular chest as he studied us.
“Bianca’s death?” Natalia stepped forward, but Ryan went right with her. He knew Enzo would never hurt her, but I had a feeling he was going to be overly protective, even more than normal, after what went down this morning.
“An old friend of mine showed up last night, letting me know he has reason to believe there’s more to the story involving the death of my sister. I’m heading to New York to look into it.” His gaze slowly went to Natalia. “Brandon can handle the kitchen while I’m gone. I’m sorry, but I have no choice but to leave.”
He wasn’t just leaving the restaurant, he was leaving me.
“I know you want justice,” Natalia began, “but going back down that path is dangerous, and you know it. Let the police handle this. You’ve been gone from the life for years, even before I asked you to move here, and—”
“I haven’t been gone as long as you think,” Enzo cut her off. “When my contract ended, I didn’t stop taking justice into my own hands.”
Contract?
“My brothers and I didn’t retire until I came here.” He finally shared what appeared to be news to Natalia. “This isn’t the time or place to have this conversation. I need to get ready and go.” With eyes on Ryan, he added, “They were only after me, but Maria should stay with you until this is over.”
“You told me the other day you weren’t a danger to them,” Ryan remarked.
When was that conversation, and what had brought it on? Would Ryan cooperate? Let Enzo leave the truth hanging?
“You were clearly wrong.” Ryan huffed out a deep breath and hooked his arm around his wife, pulling her tight to his side.
Enzo’s broad shoulders arched back, and a million regrets seemed to seep from his body, striking me one by one like bullets.
Is being in my life now one of those regrets? “If those men don’t tell you who sent them here by tomorrow, what will you do?” From the office, I’d overheard Enzo warn something to some guy named Giovanni over the phone. Thin walls and all.