Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Enzo pushed the button. “Rain.”
“Beautiful name. Now, the sparkly unicorn makes sense.” I nudged my chin to the magical animal in his clutch. “Had a friend named Sunny. My old roomy here. She loved unicorns. She was …” I brushed a tear from my cheek. Sore subject.
As I entered the smaller space, I focused on what was important now. “So, you remember my undying vow of affection for Lach.”
“Sí.” He leaned a large shoulder against the elevator wall, staring at me. “He hasn’t let you down yet?”
Meh. “No.”
“Pft. I guess so. You promised to call me—”
“No, I did not. You thought you were being funny, referring to the movie we’d just watched.”
He laughed. “Nah. That’s not how I remember it. You said you’d call me the second you came to your senses.” Enzo caressed wavy hair from my vision.
“I didn’t agree to that.” I chomped my teeth.
He let out that attractive laughter, then dropped his hand.
“My father hired that guy you just saw after the holidays. He might’ve taken my punch without a flinch. Won’t be the case for you, Lorenzo. So, you might wanna cool it, Happy Hands.”
“Oh, yeah.” He stroked his jaw. “Saw it on E!News, TMZ, TikTok. Lachlan tried to save you from a purse snatcher.”
“What do you mean try—”
The doors sprang open.
Whatever. I started out. Enzo grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
“You should be a good girl.” His other hand, clutching the stuffed unicorn, tapped the tip of my nose.
“Do that again. I’ll bite your finger off.”
Enzo grabbed my wrists in his large hand, pulling me flush against him. “Make your dad happy. Get rid of Lach.”
In that moment, I recalled the heat—not the July weather—that erupted when we kissed. Lachlan and I weren’t official, but guilt made me come clean about the after-rom-com kiss.
Lorenzo didn’t let go.
Someone placed a hand between the elevator doors, stopping it from closing.
My unwanted bodyguard.
Enzo released me. He backed out, offering a wicked wink.
“Maybe next time I’ll get to say hello to your cousin.” Yeah, right. I don’t need that type of trouble.
“I just don’t understand her anymore—”
“Vassili, stop,” Momma said. “So your daughter is in love with—”
“If you say the L word, I volunteer as tribute to sleep on the couch.”
In the hallway, I laughed a little. Then I mouthed the words coming out of Pop’s mouth. “When you went into labor, do you remember what the doctor said?” He proceeded in a terrible Caucasian voice, without waiting for Momma’s response, in contrast to his Russian accent. “You must be the reason she won’t open her legs and push.”
My momma snorted. “Last time you exaggerated this story, it was the nurse.”
“Doctor, nurse. Doesn’t matter. I had a police detail from a winning title match to get to you, Zariah. To you and my new baby.”
At this point, I heaved a sigh and strolled into the open living room and kitchen area. Because the house was so large, they didn’t notice my arrival. Sunlight streamed in from the massive accordion sliders. Too cold. Sixty-four degrees in winter in California, but cold enough for me to approach the door and press a button. The retractable glass wall slid into place.
Arms folded, I matched my father’s glare.
“Who’s the Italian?”
“What?” My head dropped, and I pinched my nose. “Oh, my Shadow told you—”
“Not only are you entertaining that base—”
“Your favorite Dodger.” I chuckled.
“Ex-favorite Doyer,” he retorted, so angry he almost sounded Hispanic. “Now, you have elevator hookups. What about Edik?”
“Edik?” I gasped the name.
Momma cut me off. “My daughter’s not marrying a virtual stranger!”
“Did I say that, Zar? We are acquainted with Edik and his father, Lev Mikhailov. We are friends.” Vassili growled the lie. Yes, I mentally called him by his first name. My pop would pop me for that if he had the guts to hit a girl. “At the rate you’re going, Natasha, bags snatched because you’re hiding from your Shadow—”
“C’mon,” Momma said. “What’s her bodyguard’s name? We’re not those people who just randomly give folks’ names. Nor do we lie about our association—so not a friendship—with the Mikhailov Bratva!” When Vassili didn’t respond, Momma stared at me.
“The bodyguard’s name? How should I know?” I blinked. I smirked at the same look Vassili offered. Our answers were identical, just like twins.
“I’ll ask Yuri.” He mentioned his cousin and old UFC manager. “Alright, here’s the truth.” Vassili picked up a green drink Momma placed in front of him. “Natasha’s Shadow had little going for him until he brought the Italian to my attention.” He tapped a message on his cellphone. Probably a text. “Yuri will discover the Italian’s name by the end of day.”
Which meant they’d hack into the UCLA Medical Center. Great. Actually … Yuri? Meh. A dozen donuts would persuade him not to tell my dad Lorenzo’s name. Why did I need to protect the guy from my—Vassili? I was sure my Shadow would talk to Enzo. Force him not to breathe in my direction.