“Mr. Vitale arranged it and has already taken care of everything,” he said as he poured a cup of coffee. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I blinked at him. “Enzo did this?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” I said slowly, picking up the white mug and frowning. “And where is he now?”

“Gone,” he said shortly.

I raised a brow. “Gone where? Does he come here all the time? Is this his place? Or is it just somewhere he stays the night from time to time?”

The smile stayed plastered onto the man’s face, but his eyes changed. For a brief moment, his gaze flickered around the room as if he was waiting for someone to jump out. When he looked at me again, I stared him down, waiting for an answer.

He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sure Mr. Vitale can answer any questions you have for him.”

Right. I wasn’t going to get a damn thing out of this guy. Nodding, I stared at him until he exited the suite as quickly as humanly possible. Shaking my head, I doctored up my coffee and looked at the feast that had been left for me. I didn’t want to eat the shit Enzo had ordered, but my stomach cramped and growled, making it apparent that it didn’t give a damn what I wanted.

I plucked up a piece of toast and went in search of my phone. It was right where I’d started, sitting on the bedside table like I’d put it there, but I was damn sure I hadn’t. Did Enzo do that?

I snatched my phone up and looked at the time. “Shit. Gotta get to work.”

Rourke was going to kill me if I was late. I ignored the slight pounding in my head, jogged to the breakfast cart, and secured myself a plate. Climbing into the elevator, I requested an Uber while I shoveled eggs and bacon into my mouth like a starving person. When the doors opened, a woman stood in front of them and pulled a face at me. I wiped my breakfast off my face, smiled with stuffed cheeks, and mumbled an apology as I shuffled past her.

I dumped my plate on the check-in counter. “Sorry, I don’t know where that’s supposed to go. If Enzo Vitale comes back, can you give him a message?”

The woman blinked at me. “Um, yes, sir.”

“Actually, I should write it down.”

She slid me a sticky notepad, and I scribbled out a quick message. When I passed it back over, she ripped it off and stuffed it into an envelope. I had to admit; I was impressed she didn’t read it. I would have.

“Will that be all, sir?”

“Yep. Thanks,” I said.

The entire ride back to my car I couldn’t stop thinking about Enzo. He was a weird, neat freak, asshole, but damn, I couldn’t get him out of my brain. My cock begged for another round. He was a dangerous, wild thing that had no social norms to adhere to. Yet, I couldn’t think about anything else but his hand on my hip and his voice growling in my ear.