Page 101 of Secrets of the Brother
“I lied.”
No remorse. No explanation. No groveling. No apology. Just a simple, blunt statement of fact.
My heart raced so fast it was now skipping beats, as if it were tripping over itself.
In my mind’s eye, I saw my heart as a battered and bruised object running down a hillside before stumbling and then just free-falling into nothingness. One of the pitfalls of an artist’s imagination.
He grabbed the stack of files and tapped the edges of them against the desk to align them before slamming them down.
I jumped at the sudden, loudthwack.
I raised my gaze to his and shrugged. “So that’s it? You lied?”
Enzo circled around to the front of the desk. He curled a firm hand around my neck and pulled me close. “Don’t do this now, Bianca.”
I stared at his lips. “Do what?”
He leaned down and grazed my lips with his. His warm breath scorched my lips. “Pretend you thought, for even one moment, I was actually going to let you leave my side.”
My eyelids drifted half closed as if weighted down.
He wasn’t wrong.
I knew, deep down, he wasn’t going to take me back to my parents’ house.
It didn’t mean I had to accept it. “You promised,” I said in a calm, even tone, almost as if in a trance.
He nipped my bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ll make it up to you, but first I have to drop these off at marketing and have a final word with Cesare and then we can leave.” He pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t move for several seconds.
I just stared at the dark void visible through the open threshold he had just exited.
I then calmly crossed to the closet and put on my coat.
After placing my purse on my forearm, I reached into Enzo’s inner coat pocket and palmed his Ferrari car keys.
CHAPTER26
ENZO
“Is that your car?”
Cesare’s question brought me up short.
I was halfway out of his office, anxious to get back to Bianca.
With his question, I turned on my heel and headed back inside to gaze out his windows which had a view of the side of our building at the corner of the piazza.
My Ferrari was pulling out of its reserved parking spot. Although from my vantage point I couldn’t tell who was behind the wheel, I had a good idea. “Goddammit,” I cursed as I rushed toward the door.
I called out to Cesare, “I need your—”
Before I could finish my sentence, he tossed me his car keys. “Here. I’ll catch a ride with Papà.”
I stretched up my arm and caught the keys midair without breaking stride as I raced out of the office and down the hall.
“Don’t scratch my baby!” he called out to my retreating back.
