Accidentally Yours Chapter 36

Lola

Her hair was still damp from the shower, curling at the ends in soft, defiant waves. She walked beside Enzo through the dark hallway, clean clothes hugging her skin like they’d been worn before, like they knew her already.

He didn’t touch her.

But she could feel him.

A warmth at her side. A presence that filled the air like a storm *before* the thunder.

When he opened the rooftop door, the scent of grilled meat and cigars drifted out into the night air. There was music—something low, something classic—and the kind of laughter that came from people who have known each other for years and have no walls with each other.

She let herself smile.

Let this be easy.

Nico

Nico clocked them the second they walked in—Lola in sleek black leggings and a cropped jacket, towel-damp hair loose, skin flushed from the shower.

Enzo followed close behind, shirtless under an open linen button-up like he hadn’t just disappeared for three days and come back acting like it was *nothing*.

What struck Nico wasn’t how she looked.

It was how she *moved*.

Chin high. Shoulders down. Like she wasn’t checking for danger.

Like—for the first time since he’d met her—she didn’t feel like the room was against her.

He leaned toward Marco without taking his eyes off her. “She’s not bracing anymore.”

Marco nodded. “Feels different tonight.”

“Yeah,” Nico said, a little quieter. “It does.”

Dom

Dom watched her settle into the seat beside Enzo—legs folded, chin propped on her fist, a lazy, lethal little smile tugging at her lips as she reached across the table and stole a fry from Marco’s plate like she’d been doing it for years.

She didn’t ask.

Didn’t test the waters.

Just took what she wanted.

And Enzo?

Didn’t blink.

Dom took a drink and hid his grin. “She’s got him by the fucking throat,” he muttered to Nico.

“She hasn’t even started squeezing yet,” Nico replied.

Dom snorted. “He’s gonna thank her for it when she does.”

Marco

Marco sat in the corner, bourbon in hand, listening more than speaking. Watching the way Lola’s laugh wasn’t sharp anymore—it was low, real. The kind that shook her shoulders a little. The kind that didn’t look rehearsed.

But he noticed something else, too.

Enzo watched her like she was the first thing he’d seen in color.

Not just possessive.

Taken.

And for Enzo Marchesi—*that* was new.

Gino

Gino slammed a glass down on the table and pointed at Lola with dramatic flair. “You’ve earned a story. Wanna hear about the time Enzo tried to adopt a dog from a rescue and almost got blacklisted?”

Lola raised a brow. “Absolutely.”

Enzo groaned. “Gino.”

“No, this one’s good. So, picture this—Enzo shows up at the shelter wearing a full suit. Black-on-black. No expression. Looks like the goddamn Grim Reaper. Lady at the counter’s already sweating.”

“She wouldn’t let me in the back,” Enzo said flatly.

“Because you looked like you were there to put a hit on the puppies,” Gino shot back.

Lola nearly choked on her drink.

“She asked him if he had experience with dogs and he said—*I shit you not*—‘I’ve dealt with loyalty before.’” Gino wiped a tear from his eye. “She flagged his file.”

Lola leaned into the table, grinning wide. “Tell me you didn’t actually say that.”

Enzo muttered, “I didn’t think it was weird.”

Dom wheezed. “That’s because you’re the weird one, boss.”

Marco didn’t laugh, but his mouth twitched. Nico just raised his glass.

Marco

Marco set down his glass and leaned forward slightly. “Alright, someone needs to tell her about the goat.”

Lola blinked. “Excuse me?”

Marco smirked. “Enzo once bought a tiny island to impress this girl—”

“I didn’t *buy* it,” Enzo muttered.

Marco waved him off. “Details. Point is, he flew her out there, candlelit dinner, ocean view, private chef… except there was a feral goat that no one warned him about. Chased them halfway across the island.”

“Why was it so fast?” Gino added, wide-eyed. “Like, Olympic track star energy.”

Enzo groaned. “You’re never telling a story again.”

Dom

Dom lifted his beer. “That reminds me. First time I ever saw him pissed was when someone tried to mess with Nico on a job. Enzo didn’t say a word. Just walked up, disarmed the guy, and *threw* his phone in the ocean. We hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet.”

“He used to be more chill,” Nico muttered.

Enzo just raised a brow. “I still *am* chill. You all just need a  constant babysitter.”

Lola laughed lightly, “Seems pretty chill for a big time mob boss.”

Nico

Nico watched Lola laugh, the way she threw her head back without restraint, her whole body leaning into the joy. It did something to the table. Shifted it. Lightened it.

He didn’t say anything. Just let it settle.

Lola 

Lola drifted toward the edge of the room, her heels silent against the tile. The low hum of dinner conversation faded behind her. She caught Enzo leaning back on one elbow, talking to Marco, who looked seconds away from passing out on the long couch. His laugh was lazy, quiet—tinted with something softer than usual.

It made her smile. Made her wonder how many people actually got to see that version of him.

A shadow moved beside her. Nico.

“Mind if I join you?”

She shook her head and slid a little to the side. He leaned on the railing next to her, arms crossed, gaze scanning the room like he was always calculating.

“He looks good tonight,” Nico murmured, nodding toward Enzo.

“He always looks good,” Lola replied dryly.

Nico chuckled. “I meant—relaxed. Like he’s actually enjoying himself. That doesn’t happen often.”

Lola glanced sideways. “Because of me?”

“Probably,” Nico said. Then, quieter, “Definitely.”

They stood in silence for a second.

“When Enzo’s dad died seven years ago,” Nico began, voice steady but distant, “he didn’t get a choice. He had to step in. No prep. No warm-up. Just… be the man. I was already working with him back then. My father made sure of it. Said I had to understand the business by the time I was sixteen. Enzo was twenty-three when the whole empire got dumped on his shoulders. And he didn’t flinch. Not once.”

Lola followed Nico’s gaze across the room. Enzo looked up right then and caught her eye. One brow lifted, like he was checking in without a single word. Her stomach did a slow, traitorous flip.

“He’s been protecting all of us ever since,” Nico continued. “Never asked for anything back. And most people don’t even realize how much of himself he’s given up just to keep things running.”

Lola was quiet for a moment, swallowing hard.

“People always want something from him, don’t they?” she said softly. “Even when they say they don’t.”

Nico turned to her, watching carefully. “Yeah. They do.”

Her arms folded loosely, the edge of her nail catching at her sleeve. “My parents were like that,” she murmured. “Used me for as long as I can remember. Not in obvious ways, not always. But it was never about what I wanted. It was what they needed. What their friends needed. Always something. Until I ran.”

Nico didn’t push. Just nodded.

“So I get it,” she added. “The always being needed. The being seen as what you can offer. Not who you are.”

They stood there a beat longer.

Nico’s voice dropped to something gentler. “Then maybe it’s not about what he sees in you, Lola. Maybe you just don’t know your worth.”

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t, really.

But the words followed her. As she walked back toward the seating area. As she caught the flicker of Enzo’s grin across the room.

Maybe you just don’t know your worth.

And for the first time in a very, very long time—

She wanted to try.

She wanted to believe it.

Because even with Ethan, she was never comfortable enough to do anything like she’s done with Enzo. 

While that truth was terrifying it also said a lot. 

Lola padded softly back toward the group, the low chatter washing over her like warm static. Enzo was leaned back in the oversized chair, nursing a glass of something amber and expensive, his head tilted toward Marco, who looked half-asleep, his smile lazy and eyes heavy-lidded. Dom, Gino, and Nico were still throwing jokes back and forth over another round of drinks.

She didn’t say anything.

Just walked up, placed a hand on Enzo’s shoulder—and climbed right into his lap like she’d done it a hundred times. Not to straddle. Not to seduce. Just to be.

His arms came around her without hesitation. One slid low around her hips, the other draped lazily across her thighs, holding her close like she was made to fit there.

And maybe she was.

***Yeah. This spot right here. This felt like the source.***

***(0,0).***

*(point of origin)*

His warmth seeped into her back. His heartbeat pressed steady against her spine.

“Can we go to bed?” she mumbled, voice soft and scratchy as she tucked her head beneath his chin. “I’m sleepy.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just hummed low in his chest and nosed into her damp hair like he was breathing her in.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “Let’s get you to bed, baby.”

She felt herself being shifted, lifted slightly as he stood—still holding her—and heard the boys chuckle and offer lazy goodnights as he carried her toward the hall.

She didn’t open her eyes.

Didn’t need to.

She was exactly where she wanted to be.