POV: ENZO
Enzo had been in his own hotel room, reviewing territory maps for their organization, when he'd gotten a call from one of his contacts.
Isabella Russo just paid 100K for information on Dimitri Valentino's schedule and event invitations. Thought you'd want to know.
Enzo had stared at his phone, fury building in his chest.
They were supposed to be partners.
Building something together.
Creating an empire that was theirs, not defined by Dimitri or Antonio or anyone else.
But Isabella was still obsessed.
Still plotting.
Still chasing a man who would never choose her.
And Enzo was done pretending he didn't see it.
He'd stormed out of his hotel, driven to her new location, bypassed security with his Valentino name, and burst into her suite without knocking.
Now he stood in her doorway, watching her spin around with wide eyes, a wine glass in her hand.
"Enzo..."
