Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

I 've spent the day being interrogated by Geoff. When I plugged my phone in and it finally had enough battery to bring it to life, I had twenty missed calls and ten messages. All from Geoff.

He wanted to know where I was, where I'd been, why I wasn't responding to him. I don't understand what his issue is. I've been on assignments before, and he's never called me for check- ins. He's never messaged either. Now, though, it's as if he's a worried mother hen.

Geoff and I have never been anything but professional towards each other. I've been picking up on a very different vibe from him the last couple of days, though. I'm not sure if he's interested in the case or me. Either way, he's really starting to get on my nerves.

I told him I spent the night at Enzo's house, leaving out the part about me being drugged at a frat party and how I don't remember a damn thing about the night. I also left out the part about Enzo wanting to take me out to dinner. He wasn't serious. At least I don't think he was.

My eyes go to the clock hanging on the wall above my desk. It's six thirty. Enzo said he'd pick me up at seven. He's not going to show. I keep telling myself that, even as I get up off my bed and open the closet.

I'm not getting dressed for a date. I just feel the need to change. More lies, just like the huge lie I've been telling myself all day. I am not attracted to Enzo Valentino. I do not want his lips on mine. I do not want his hands caressing my body.

I do not want Enzo Valentino. He's a means to an end.

If I say it enough, I'll believe it. I'm honestly disgusted with myself. I shouldn't be attracted to him. He represents everything I'm against. He's a criminal. His hands are covered in more blood than a slaughterhouse floor. But I can't deny that when he smiles at me, I almost forget who he is under that pretty cover.

A monster.

Just like the one who killed my father. And that knowledge is what keeps me going. If he shows up tonight… which knowing his kind, he will. Let's be honest. These men think the world needs to jump at their say so. Anyway, if he does, I'll be the na?ve college student he thinks I am. I'll even go as far as to bat my eyelashes if it makes him trust me even a little.

I pull out a dress, one of the three I own, and quickly remove my t-shirt, shorts, and then my bra. This particular dress is backless. I can't wear anything underneath. And, honestly, I want Enzo distracted by my breasts. It's also a dark-maroon color, a bodycon with long sleeves. It's tight, and my chest looks great in it. Which is why I'm choosing this dress.

Sliding a garter up my thigh, I secure one of my small knives against my leg. It's the only place I have to hide anything. I have to dig through a box to find my black clutch. It's just large enough to hold my pistol.

Three loud knocks echo through my room. When I look at the clock, it's seven on the dot. Of course it is.

I know it's him, but habit has me peering through the hole in the door to make sure. The cocky bastard just smirks, like he knows I'm looking at him. I wonder if he'll still be smirking when I lock a pair of cuffs on his wrists.

When I picture Enzo behind bars, I'm not filled with the same satisfaction I'm used to. It's a strange feeling, one I'm not going to acknowledge. Instead, I pull open the door.

"Didn't I tell you I was busy?" I ask, feigning annoyance.

Enzo's eyes travel up and down my body. Not once but twice. "You did, but I also told you I'd be back. You look fucking great by the way."

"Thanks." I run my hands over my waist. "Like I said, I'm busy tonight and you need to leave."

"What exactly are you busy doing?" he asks, tilting his head to the side to glare at me.

"Laundry," I lie.

"You do laundry dressed like that? Actually, doesn't matter. If you're planning on wearing shoes, get them on. We're going to be late," he tells me.

"You made it to college so I know you're not that dense, but is English like your second language or something? You seem to be having issues understanding the word no ."

"I understand it just fine. I just don't accept it in this circumstance."

"What circumstance would you accept the word no ?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Enzo leans in closer, and his lips brush the shell of my ear. "If I had you writhing underneath me, your body begging me to give it the release it desperately needs. In that instance, if your mouth told me no , I'd listen," he says before quickly stepping back. "So, shoes?" He glances down at my bare feet and then back up to my face.

"Right, hold on." I walk over and slide my feet into the black pumps I left by my bed. Picking up my clutch, I turn around and find Enzo staring at me with an odd expression on his face. "What?" I ask him.

"I'm just trying to figure out where you're concealing weapons under that dress," he says.

"Where there's a will, there is always a way." I smile. "Are we going to stand here all night, or are you going to take me to dinner like you seem so determined to do?"

"Let's go." Enzo holds open my door. My body brushes past his as I walk out of the dorm room.

"Where are we going?"

"Clentelle," he says. "It's not too far from here."

I pause momentarily. Clentelle is a known hangout for New York's filth. The place is crawling with members of all kinds of organized crime. I've never been in there, but I've heard stories about it.

This is a huge in for me. For the agency. I don't know of any agent who's actually been to that restaurant. It's usually reserved for higher-ups in the families. Which means, even if an agent were to infiltrate the close circle, they wouldn't be at that level.

"Is there a problem? Have you been there before? The food is usually good." Enzo lifts a curious brow.

"No problem. I've only ever heard good things about the place. How did you get a reservation there, though? I've been told they have a yearlong waitlist."

"I know people who know people." Enzo shrugs.

I bet you do. I keep that thought to myself as I let him guide me towards the elevator, his hand warming the exposed skin of my lower back.