Chapter 27

twenty-seven

KITANIA

Sweat dripped down my brow as I scrubbed the kitchen floor, the scent of lemon cleaner mingling with the lingering aroma of breakfast. My muscles ached with every swipe of the mop, but I didn’t care. I needed to focus on something— anything —other than the yawning silence that filled the penthouse.

It was the first time I’d been totally alone since the guys had rescued me. Usually, at least one of them stayed behind when the others left to handle ‘business’ matters. But this morning, when their father called, things had seemed different. Their faces hardened and their stances tensed as they listened to his voice on the other end of the line—and I knew whatever was going on was bad. Really bad.

Each of them had pulled me into a tight hug, promising I’d be safe and that they’d be back as soon as possible. Then they were gone, sweeping out the door like a pack of wolves on the hunt.

Leaving me here. Alone and scared, just waiting and praying they’d return unharmed.

My imagination ran wild, conjuring up what kind of danger my Alphas could be facing.

Everything felt too quiet, too still, and the silence pressed in on me, amplifying the gnawing fear in my gut.

I swiped at the tears that watered to life in my eyes, brushing them away and blinking back the rest before they could fall. With a shaky breath, I tried to focus on the task at hand. The monotonous motions of mopping helped me keep my spiraling thoughts from totally consuming me. For now, at least. If I stopped moving, stopped cleaning, I was afraid I would crumble under the anxiety clawing at my insides.

So, I focused on tidying up the lavish penthouse that had become my haven, hoping it would help the time pass quickly. Luckily, there was plenty of work to do. Since unbonded Omegas were hypersensitive to other people’s scents inside their homes and around their mates—a sensitivity that was amplified for scent matches—the guys had paused the cleaning service that usually came twice a week.

Somehow, these men were always five steps ahead, taking care of things before they became potential problems. It was one thing I loved about them, because I’d admit, the idea of other women in my space made my Omega instincts flare possessively. This was my home now, and these were my Alphas.

I threw myself into the compulsive urge to clean, to regain some illusion of control. And since old habits were hard to break, the need to earn my keep and make the penthouse perfect for when they returned overtook me. I wanted to prove I could take care of them the way they were always caring for me. That I could be a good Omega, despite everything…

After mopping, I scrubbed the counters, organized the fridge and pantry, cleaned the bathrooms, and wiped down the banisters. Dizziness hit me suddenly, and I gripped the handle of the vacuum I was running over the rugs, waiting for it to pass. I knew I should rest, eat more than the few bites I’d managed earlier. My Alphas would be pissed if they learned I’d barely eaten breakfast and skipped lunch entirely, but my appetite was nonexistent.

Once everything was vacuumed, I wasn’t sure what to tackle next. It was a toss up between cleaning windows or starting the laundry.

I chewed on my nails, wondering if the guys would consider it an invasion of privacy if I went into their rooms to gather their dirty clothes. I didn’t think they’d mind, so I slipped into Marco’s room first, picking up the few random items that lay strewn on the bed or the floor and tossing them in his hamper.

I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful black and white art prints that decorated his walls. Biting my lip and glancing toward the door to make sure I was still alone, I decided to creep closer. Artful shots of vintage looking cars were framed by thick white mats encased in black picture frames. Each one showed a different angle—the flow of the chrome, the curves of the leather seats, bright headlights decorating each side of a stylized bumper, and a closeup of a steering wheel and dashboard. Every small detail had been captured in a way that really made the viewer pay attention to the beauty of the machinery. I wasn’t a car person myself—hell, I was lucky I’d had a bicycle to ride growing up—but even I could appreciate the artistry behind the photos.

Gazing around the rest of his room, I spotted a camera resting on Marco’s desk and wondered if he had taken the images himself.

I filed that tidbit away for later and forced myself to leave. I lugged the hamper to the laundry, then took my time separating the whites from the colors before starting a load. My hand hovered over a dark hoodie sitting in the basket, and before I could talk myself out of it, I stole it from the pile and slid it on, unable to resist inhaling Marco’s scent from the soft cotton.

It hung to mid-thigh and felt cozy and warm. It was like wearing a hug, and I smiled as I went about my day, feeling calmer with his familiar signature soothing the sharp edges of my nerves.

After collecting the trash, I set the two bags by the front door, then frowned at how messy it made the open concept living room look. It might’ve been my perfectionism talking, but I hadn’t worked so hard to have garbage stinking up the place. Chewing on my lip, I hurried to the laptop in the kitchen and checked the security cameras my mates had shown me how to view. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. I fidgeted with the hem of the hoodie, trying to psych myself up to leave the penthouse so I could put the trash near the elevator for the guys to handle later.

I can do this. In and out. No big deal.

Hefting the garbage, I opened the door, and my breath caught in my throat. Two imposing figures flanked the entrance, their broad shoulders and dark clothing exuding an aura of danger. My gaze locked on the guns holstered at their hips, and a wave of panic crashed over me. The trash bags slipped from my trembling fingers, landing with a soft clatter on the marble floor.

No, no, no... This can’t be happening.

I stumbled back, slamming the door shut with a resounding bang. I threw the locks in place and then leaned my body against the cool surface, my chest heaving with each ragged breath. My pulse fluttered wildly in my throat, like a trapped bird desperate to break free. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I closed them tightly, trying to block out the fear before I passed out from hyperventilation.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the other side of the reinforced door, sending a chill down my spine.

Oh god, they’re laughing at me. They’re going to break in and—

“Hey, easy there. I’m a friend, not a threat,” a gruff voice called out, interrupting my downward spiral of doom, no doubt scenting my absolute distress. “Name’s Enzo. And this is Lonnie. We work for Dimitri.”

I froze, my mind reeling. He knew Dimitri? Could it be true that he was one of his guys? I wanted to believe him, but trust was a fragile thing, and mine had been shattered too many times.

“Listen, the boss sent me here to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe until he gets back. You’ve got nothing to worry about, especially from us,” Enzo continued, his tone softening. “Believe me, D would kill me if I harmed so much as a hair on your head. So would his brothers.”

I took a shaky breath, willing my heart rate to return to normal. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? That this isn’t some trick?” I hated how small my voice sounded, how vulnerable.

“I get it. You’ve been through hell, and trust doesn’t come easily,” Enzo replied, understanding coloring his words. “But I swear on my life, I’m here to protect you. Dimitri and his brothers, they care about you something fierce. They’d never let anyone hurt their Omega. Though I am surprised they didn’t tell you they were sending backup when they rushed outta here this morning.”

Silence stretched between us, heavily weighted with my anxiety. I wanted to believe him, to feel safe again, but the scars of my past ran deep.

“Shit,” he cursed when my bitter scent remained. “Listen, I promise I’m a friend. I’ve been inside the penthouse before. The pillows on the couch are a mixture of tan and brown. There’s an ugly-as-fuck statue of Zeus on the bookcases flanking the TV that Emilio gave Dimitri on his twenty-fifth birthday. It’s on the right side, second shelf from the top, I think. And that abstract painting beside the door? Their mother painted that.”

My eyes tracked around the room to each of the details he described while I nervously picked at my nails, wincing as I drew blood. The sting, however, was a familiar type of pain, and it grounded me.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible through the wood. “I… I want to trust you. But it’s hard. I’m scared.”

His tone dropped low, deep, and heartfelt, full of empathy and kindness. “I know, sweetheart. And that’s alright. We’ll take it slow, yeah? You just focus on breathing, and I’ll be right here, keeping watch.”

Enzo’s words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and I realized instantly it was the effect of a Beta. That perfect blend between dominant Alphas and gentle Omegas.

Slowly, I inched closer to the peephole, my hands pressing against the cool metal of the door. I went to my tip-toes and peered through the tiny lens, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him—Enzo, this stranger I was supposed to inherently trust.

Colorful bruises marred his face. His lip was split, and he had Steri-Strips holding together a gash that plunged through one dark brow. I knew from listening to my Alphas talk that Enzo had taken a beating from Vincent Valentino, and guilt burned through me like acid. If this guy was who he said he was, his injuries were partially my fault. As was the death of his friend.

I watched him as he kneeled down, his broad shoulders hunched as he carefully picked up trash that had spilled out of the garbage bags I’d dropped in my panic. The sight of him cleaning up my mess, of him not trying to force his way in, eased the last of my apprehension.

Everything he’d shared sounded like the truth. Maybe he really was here to protect me, to keep me safe until my Alphas returned.

I stepped back from the door, my mind racing as I weighed my options. I could stay inside, locked away, letting my fear consume me. Or I could take a chance, a leap of faith, and believe this was truly Enzo and that he meant no harm.

The responsibility of having made a mess in the hallway gnawed at me, urging me to make a decision.

With a deep breath, I reached for the doorknob. I steeled myself, gathering every ounce of courage I possessed, and undid the locks. The door creaked open, revealing Enzo’s surprised face as he looked up from his task. His brown eyes widened with a flicker of surprise as he took in my nervous stance.

“Well, hey there,” he murmured gently. “I’m Enzo. It’s nice to meet you, Kitania.”

He knew my name. It shouldn’t shock me, but it did.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I forced myself to step forward. “H-hi,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. Trash was scattered along the floor at my feet. “Oh God. I’m sorry about the mess. Seeing you… it startled me. Obviously.”

Enzo shook his head, a kind smile tugging at his lips. “No need to apologize, sweetheart. I get it. Lonnie and I don’t exactly exude friendliness.”

Lonnie snorted from where he stood guarding the otherwise empty hallway. “The opposite, actually,” he said, never once glancing in my direction.

He wasn’t wrong. My gaze flickered between Enzo and Lonnie. They both looked intimidating with their muscular frames, dark clothing, and multitude of weapons.

I tried not to let their daunting presence scare me, and instead squatted down to help clean up the mess I’d made.

Once the garbage was gathered, Enzo stood slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle me. He handed the bags to Lonnie, who took them with a nod before tossing them down a nearby trash shoot I hadn’t seen before. Enzo’s gaze met mine with curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“There we go,” he reassured. “All cleaned up. Now, how about you head back inside? Hopefully, knowing we’re out here will help set you at ease.”

I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans, my heart still racing from the adrenaline rush. “Are you sure?”

He shot me a wink and a crooked grin. “It’s kinda my job.”

My cheeks heated. “Right. Okay. T-Thank you.” I fumbled around my word as I hurried for the door and shut it with one last glance at a smirking Enzo.

God, you’re such a spaz. You’re supposed to impress your Alphas’ friend, not make him think you’re a bumbling idiot.

I sighed and headed for the kitchen, deciding to funnel all my nervous energy into baking. Four hours later and the counters were covered with trays of cooling cookies, an apple pie, and a batch of fresh scones while muffins finished rising in the oven.

At the beep of the timer, I went to take them out, only to startle as Beretta came to inspect the newest tray of goodies. I jumped when his nose grazed the back of my knee, and I lurched forward, burning the base of my thumb on the hot rack.

A pained yelp escaped me as I recoiled, dropping the pot holder and cradling my hand to my chest.

The door burst open, making me scream as a rampaging Enzo came barreling into the penthouse, gun raised. Eyes flying wide, I stopped breathing entirely as my hands flew up in surrender.

“I-It’s just me,” I forced past tight vocal chords that were ready to strangle me alive. “I-I’m sorry!”

Enzo’s chest rose and fell as he did an initial sweep of the main floor and then returned to the kitchen. “I heard you cry out.”

I lowered my arms slowly, trying to explain. “I burned myself.”

Tears were gathering in my eyes as the pain caught up to me. I angled my palm so he could see the angry red skin.

“Goddamn.” Holstering his gun, he shoved a hand through his hair, then looked momentarily conflicted about moving closer. “Your Alphas might kill me,” he muttered to himself, but crossed into the kitchen, anyway. He stopped a respectful distance away, his posture relaxed yet still alert. I noticed the way his eyes scanned the room, constantly watching, constantly vigilant. “Do you want help with that?” His chin jutted toward my injury.

“Could you, um, get the muffins out for me while I take care of this?”

“End drawer on the right. There should be a first-aid kit.” Looking overly domestic, he used the potholders to pull the muffin tin out and set it on the stovetop before kicking the oven door closed.

A few minutes later, I had run the burn under cold water and had applied ointment to it. I was fiddling with getting a bandage open when Enzo inched closer to get a better look.

“How bad is it?”

“I’ve had worse.” I shrugged. “It’s not terrible.”

“Here.” He took the dressing from my fingers and unsealed it for me. Peeling off the backing, he positioned it over the wound.

“So,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper as I tried to make small talk, “you work for... for Dimitri?”

Enzo’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Yeah, you could say that. I technically work for his dad, but D will be in charge of everything before long.”

Deep down, I knew that. But hearing it out loud was a different experience. Dimitri— my Dimitri— was going to lead the family soon. It was mind-boggling trying to reconcile the man I’d come to know with the big, scary mafia boss he was outside these walls. Not that I hadn’t seen his ruthless side, because I had. He’d shot Antonio point blank, right in front of me, but it was hard to view him as a murderer when he’d saved my life with his very next breath.

“I’ve been best friends with the Cristenello brothers since we were kids, runnin’ around causing nothing but trouble,” Enzo continued, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Isn’t that what you still do?” I teased him.

He chuckled. “You have us pegged already, huh?”

I shrugged with a small grin. “Men don’t change much from the boys they once were.” I busied myself with placing the muffins on a cooling rack, then piling the cookies onto plates.

“Would you like some? They’re chocolate chip.”

A genuine smile spread across his face. “Wouldn’t say no to that. I haven’t had homemade cookies since I was a kid.”

I threw my hand over my heart. “That’s a travesty.” I filled a plate with towering stacks of treats I was sure he and Lonnie could clear in a matter of minutes, then held it out to him. “A little thank you for standing watch for me.”

I knew they did it because Dimitri had ordered them to, but just because they were working didn’t mean I couldn’t show them my appreciation. Knowing they were there had helped me feel safer throughout the afternoon, especially with the sun going down, making the world darker and scarier.

Enzo took the plate and snatched a cookie, popping the whole thing into his mouth in a single bite. “Fuck, these are delicious. You might be stuck with me now.”

I froze. Blinking at him. Unsure how to respond.

He shifted on his feet like he’d surprised even himself, then shrugged with a nonchalant smile. “What? I’m a good friend to have in your corner.”

“Having a friend would be nice…” I admitted, catching myself completely off guard. But I recognized how true it was. My whole life I’d been alone. First as an only child, then as just another foster kid. Even the other Omegas at my local OMA hadn’t been more than passing acquaintances.

“It’s a done deal, then,” he said, as if making friends was that simple. Maybe it was.

“Enjoy the cookies.”

“Oh I will,” he promised at the same time Lonnie called out, “There are cookies?”

“Yup, and they’re mine . Go find your own friend who bakes,” Enzo scolded around another mouthful.

I listened to them bicker through the door, shaking my head at their antics before crossing to the kitchen to clean up while I waited for my Alphas.

What even was my life these days?