A Deal with the Devil

LAUREN

I stood there, frozen. The sound of the storm outside was drowned out by the pounding in my chest. Enzo’s back was to me, his focus entirely on the door as he gripped the gun with a steady hand. My heart raced, and I felt that familiar knot in my stomach. The one that I had felt a few minutes ago because of Sylas and Taylor.

I was scared. Terrified, even. Why did Enzo have a gun? Who exactly was he? The question buzzed in my mind as I wat him grip the gun tightly.

The door creaked.

“Don't move,” Enzo said, making a shiver run down my spine.

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. The intruder slowly raised his hands, frozen in place, as Enzo stepped forward and snatched the gun from him. Without warning, Enzo struck him hard with the weapon, sending the man crumpling to the ground. I flinched at the sound, my heart racing as I saw the intruder fall to the ground unconscious.

A few minutes later, the storm outside had quieted, and the lights flickered back on. I sat frozen, my eyes locked on Enzo as he stood speaking to another mysterious man who had just arrived minutes ago. The unconscious intruder lay sprawled on the floor, eerily still. A chill crept up my spine. Was he… dead? I couldn’t look away, fear gripping me tighter with every passing second. When Enzo finally turned and approached me, I stiffened as I saw his unreadable expression. The gun in his hand made my stomach turn. It was clear he was no ordinary man.

“Go to bed. Take any room upstairs and go to sleep,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Forget what happened.”

I nodded, though my pulse hammered in my ears. My gaze lingered on the gun in his hand, the tension in his shoulders. I wanted to talk but I couldn't. Slowly, I made my way up the stairs, every step heavy with dread. My instincts screamed that staying here was dangerous. I needed to leave soon.

*********************

The sound of my phone rang out loud in my ears the next day filling the room. Grunting, I reached for my phone quickly grabbing it off the counter and answering it. I had gone to bed very late last night because I couldn't sleep and I knew I had to figure out what to do next. I couldn't stay with Enzo. Not after seeing him with a gun.

“ Lauren, you need to come immediately. The antique shop…..” Samantha, my best friend, said, making me gasp in shock.

“ What?” I asked stunned as I got up immediately. “What happened?”

The antique shop was my grandparent's most prized possession, and Sylas knew it too. Sylas. After all he had done to me, he now wanted to take over my antique shop. Never. Never was I going to let that happen.

Making my way downstairs, the aroma of delicious food reached me, causing my stomach to rumble. Pancakes. Spotting Enzo in the kitchen dressed in black, I couldn't help but admire him as he arranged the pancakes on the plate. He was definitely attractive. Moving to the table, I gazed at the spread of pancakes, bacon, and eggs laid out before me. Did he actually prepare all of this by himself?

“Good morning,” Enzo said as he turned to me, and my eyes fell to his sleeves that were rolled up, exposing his arms.

“ Good morning,” I said barely controlling myself.

I sat down at the table, and the scent of the pancakes made me moan softly. I was just about to eat when suddenly, I stopped as I remembered the scene from last night. Enzo was no ordinary man and eating food at his place…. What if it was poisoned? I suddenly remembered Enzo's words from last night. Safety for me and my baby. Right now, he was my only hope of protection from Sylas. If he was dangerous, that meant Sylas wouldn't dare to cross him.

"Yesterday..." I started, but the shift in Enzo’s demeanor was instant. His shoulders went rigid, and his piercing gaze pinned me in place.

"I told you to forget about yesterday," he said, his voice cold and unyielding, each word laced with warning.

But I refused to back down. My heart pounded as I met his glare. "You’re Enzo Santoro. The mafia boss of the Santoro family. I need your help.”

“ I don't give my help out to just anyone, Signora. My help comes with a cost.” Enzo said staring at me.

“ I am willing to do anything. I need protection from my husband. As long as you're willing to protect me, I can do anything.” I said watching as Enzo got up from his seat.

As Enzo approached me, my body tensed, every nerve on edge. He pulled out my chair with deliberate ease, leaving me no choice but to meet his piercing gaze. Leaning in close, his eyes searched mine and I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

“ Fine. I am willing to offer you my protection. In exchange, you will be my caretaker.” Enzo said making me stunned.

“ Your caretaker?” I asked watching as Enzo returned back to his seat.

“Yes, my caretaker. You must make sure you protect my secret. Do whatever it takes when we are outside. In exchange, I will protect you and your baby. If you betray me or involve the police, I will kill you.” Enzo said making a shiver run down my spine as I saw how serious he was.

Kill me?

I nodded my head agreeing to whatever he wanted, the air tense between us. Few minutes later, I stood outside by car remembering Enzo's words. He was the ruthless Mafia King of the Santoro family. I couldn't afford to offend him. Watching him arrive in his wheelchair, my eyes darted to his legs. Why was he pretending to be a cripple if he was so powerful? We got into the car and left the house. I didn't know where we were going or what Enzo had on his mind.

“Where are you headed today?” I asked, keeping my tone casual, though my eyes stayed fixed on Enzo.“I need to stop by the antique shop I own, so…” I started, my words trailing off.

“You own an antique shop?” Enzo asked, his gaze sharpening as he looked at me.

“It was passed down to me by my grandparents. I’m a curator. My husband, Sylas Freeman—” I began, but the moment his name left my lips, Enzo’s expression shifted.

“Sylas Freeman? Your husband?” Enzo repeated staring at me intensely. Did he know him?

I nodded slowly, my heart racing as Enzo turned to the driver without another word.

“Turn around. We’re going to the antique shop,” He ordered.

“What’s going on?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

Enzo’s eyes met mine, cold and calculating. “Your husband is an Associate to the Ricciardi family. That antique shop? It’s probably a front for laundering money.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words never came. A pit formed in my stomach as the car sped toward the shop. Sylas was involved with a mafia family?