Accidentally Yours Chapter 87

**Enzo**

The study still clung to him.

The memory of Lola bent over that desk, tits bouncing, voice sharp and teasing even as her eyes crossed when he drove her into the wood. His blood still ran hot from it, the echo of her nails dragging down his back like she’d carved her claim into him as surely as he had into her.

***She sets me on fire. Every damn time. Doesn’t matter if it’s a kiss, a fight, or her running half-naked through the halls—I burn for her.***

He poured her drink slow, the ritual steadying him. Ice first, then gin, lemon, fizz. A Tom Collins, crisp and sweet the way she liked it. His own glass sat nearby, amber neat—whiskey, the only thing that cut through the day’s weight.

The rooftop spread was set: candles flickering low against the Vegas skyline, the table dressed in linen and silver. Ruby had come through fast, salvaging dinner after Lola’s “pause” had ended in chaos. The scent of roasted meat and char still lingered under the desert night air, mixing with the sharp bite of citrus from her glass.

Enzo leaned against the table, sleeves rolled, the city burning behind him. His mind kept circling back—her legs around Gino’s waist, Nico on his knees, Dom looking like he needed confession.

***She lets them close. Lets them touch. But even when she’s in their hands, it’s still mine. All of it. Always.***

The sound of footsteps snapped him out of it. The boys spilled onto the roof in a tangle of muttering and finger-pointing.

Nico was first. “For the record—this wasn’t on me.”

“Bullshit,” Enzo said smoothly, not moving from his lean. “You slapped her ass. You started it.”

“Enzo started it—” Nico shot back, already defensive.

“We’re innocent!” Dom threw his hands in the air, eyes wide. “We didn’t do a damn thing!”

“Speak for yourself.” Gino smirked, unapologetic. “I’d do it all over again. Burn a thousand sauces.”

Enzo’s mouth curved, sharp as a blade. “She’s pissed. You should all be ready to apologize.”

They stared at him like he’d lost it.

“Apologize?” Nico barked a laugh. “You mean when she made me get on my knees and strip her down in front of you?”

Dom jabbed a finger. “Yeah, how’s that our fault? You’re the one who went all nuclear!”

Enzo took a slow sip of whiskey, letting the fire slide down his throat. He didn’t bother hiding the amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

***Idiots. All of them. They think they’re in control for even a second.***

The rooftop door creaked open again, and silence fell over the table.

Lola stepped out barefoot, baggy joggers slung low on her hips, a cropped tank clinging to her curves. Her damp hair was twisted up in a messy bun, a few strands falling loose to frame her face. She carried herself with that same easy, smug confidence she always did, but her green eyes narrowed the second they landed on the four of them.

“I am never cooking for you hoodlums ever again,” she declared, voice dripping with mock annoyance.

Dom coughed into his hand. “Fair.”

“Agreed,” Gino muttered, though his grin betrayed him.

Enzo met her stride as she crossed the deck, pressing her chilled glass into her hand. He bent low enough for only her to hear, his mouth brushing the shell of her ear. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you, kitten.”

Her smirk curved dangerous, promising he’d regret those words later. She took a long sip of her drink, eyes never leaving his.

From behind them, Nico piped up, grin wolfish. “For the record, Lo, I’ll make it up to you too. Whatever you want.”

“Same,” Gino added with zero shame.

“Count me out,” Dom muttered, though the smirk tugging his mouth betrayed him.

Enzo’s jaw ticked. He didn’t turn his head, didn’t raise his voice, but the weight of it dropped like a guillotine. “Watch yourselves.”

Lola laughed under her breath, curling into his side as she lifted her glass again. “Relax, big guy. Everyone just wants to serve their Queen.” She smirked, taking another sip, eyes sparkling wicked.

Enzo looked down at her—barefoot, smug, wearing joggers and his patience like armor—and felt that same raw pull in his chest.

***Let them serve their Queen. Because at the end of the day, they’ll all kneel—every last one of them—for their King and Queen.***

Dinner on the rooftop was meant to be simple—food, wine, a quiet night before they all split in the morning.

Instead, Enzo found himself leaning back in his chair, glass of scotch in hand, watching Lola. She sat cross-legged in her seat, green eyes flashing as she laughed at something Dom muttered.

***Christ. She doesn’t even try, and she still owns the whole room.***

“Alright,” Lola said, tapping her fork against her glass. “Game plan for tomorrow. I’m down in the salon at six to see Babbs, then I’ll meet you boys at the car for San Diego at nine.”

“Which car?” Nico asked, brow raised.

“The armored one,” Enzo cut in before she could answer, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“And us?” Gino asked, looking between him and Dom.

“We’re headed north,” Enzo said, setting his glass down. “Salvos want a sit-down. Can’t wait.”

Gino sighed, stabbing at his plate. “Figures. Just when the food gets good, business calls.”

“Stop whining,” Dom muttered. “At least you’re not on expo duty with Lola. That’s a three-day circus.”

“Hey!” Lola narrowed her eyes. “My expos are fun.”

“Your expos are chaos,” Nico shot back, though there was a hint of a grin in his voice.

The table broke into quiet laughter. Even Enzo’s mouth curved, though he didn’t take his eyes off her. She was glowing in the candlelight—untouchable and yet right there, his.

Then she looked at him. Really looked. The grin she’d been wearing for the others softened into something sharper, private.

***There it is. That look. Mine.***

Lola set down her fork and pushed back from the table. “Alright, amore. Enough strategy talk.” She tilted her chin toward the stairs with a wicked smile. “Time for bed.”

Enzo didn’t hesitate. He stood, leaving his half-finished glass behind, and followed her—every set of eyes at the table tracking them, the quiet hum of conversation cutting out in their wake.

Enzo lay back against the pillows, Lola curled into his chest like she was made for it. The city was nothing but a smear of light beyond the balcony glass, but all he saw was her—warm, soft, smelling faintly of soap and ink.

She traced idle shapes against his ribs, voice low. “I’ll be fine, Enzo. Dom’s fake-boyfriend duty for day one, Nico’s for day two. Between them and the six men, I’ll have more shadows than the Pope.”

His jaw ticked, hand sliding from her back to cup her hip. Fake boyfriends. Like hell I like the sound of that. Not because it’s Dom. Not because it’s Nico. But because the world doesn’t get to see her that way. Not when every second she spends at their side belongs to me. 

He didn’t voice it. Not all of it. Just let his thumb sweep her skin, a warning and a vow. “I don’t like it.”

She tipped her chin up, eyes catching his in the dark, green shot through with gold. “I know.” Her smirk softened, crooked and sure. “But relax. I may have two stand in boyfriends…” She wiggled the giant, heart-shaped, pink diamond ring . “…but I’ve only got one fake fiancé.”

Enzo’s arms were tight around her, his forehead pressed to hers, voice low and stubborn. “You can call it fake all you want, but I’m going to marry you one day.”

Her chest squeezed, the fierceness in his tone hitting her deeper than she wanted to admit. She brushed her thumb across his jaw, softening her smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He didn’t blink. “I’m yours. That’s not fake.”

Her throat closed. The words burned at the back of her tongue, demanding to be freed. She swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper.

“…It may have started as the craziest accident, but I’m yours.”

A beat. Her breath shook.

“I love you, Re (King).”

The word landed heavy between them—her king.

Enzo’s breath caught, rough around the edges. His grip flexed against her back, pulling her flush against his chest. For once, he didn’t have a comeback—only the roar of his pulse.

***She loves me. My queen loves me. And I’ll burn the world before I let her go.***