The car stopped, and I glanced up at a tall building. “A hotel?”

Enzo looked me over as if he was dissecting me. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

Yeah, it’s a big problem. I’d been hoping to get back to his place, see what I could find, or at least know the location so I could return when he was out. A hotel was a problem. It showed me nothing about who he was or what he’d been doing.

Maybe I can still use this. Get close to him. He doesn’t have to know who I am.

I grinned at him. “Nope, not a problem at all,” I said as I grabbed the handle and let myself out.

Looked like I was going to have to play the long game. He rounded the car and dropped the keys into the valet’s palm. The young man jogged off, but not before Enzo passed him what looked like a huge tip.

“Are you coming?” Enzo asked.

I stared at the building and then at his retreating back. He wasn’t waiting for me, as if he was much too busy and important and didn't give a damn if I went with him or not. It felt like a leash had been looped around my throat, and I followed him, my feet moving on their own.

What was it about him that intrigued me?

“Good evening, sir,” the woman behind the counter smiled at him. “Your laundry has been delivered to your door, and your dinner will arrive in an hour. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Enzo shook his head. “That’ll be all. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

I whistled as we waited at the elevator. “Are you some kind of big shot or something?”

“Or something,” he answered shortly.

I examined the side of his face, but he gave nothing away. He didn’t so much as glance at me, but I felt like he was watching my every move. Reaching up, he adjusted the black-framed glasses that were perched on the bridge of his nose.

How the hell is this man in the mob?

Most gangsters had an air to them; tattoos, greasy hair, thick accents, and too much damn bravado. He had the last trait, but the rest? Enzo looked neat and clean, like a professor who worked at a top-notch college. Even the long, blue jacket he wore seemed tame and unassuming. But I knew the truth behind that innocent facade. His family was responsible for countless atrocities, ones that we couldn’t prove. No one in the Vitale family was innocent.

Enzo gazed my way finally and held it. He didn’t say a word, his eyes running over me before he stared at me intently. There was a slight tilt to his head as if he was asking and answering questions that never left his thin, pink lips. There was something else, some burning inferno in the depths of those brown eyes that made me want to squirm. My lungs burned, and I realized I was holding my breath.