Accidentally Yours Chapter 93

**Enzo**

The city blurred past the SUV windows in streaks of neon and shadow. Enzo sat forward in the seat, forearms braced against his knees, every muscle tight enough to snap. His jaw locked so hard it buzzed in his skull. Gino drove fast but steady, the silence between them heavy, broken only by the clipped sound of Enzo’s breaths. Every inhale cut sharp. Every exhale carried a weight he couldn’t release. The weight in his chest hadn’t eased since Dom’s call—it had only sharpened, refined into something lethal.

His mind kept replaying the sound of Dom’s voice. Smoke, panic, despair. *It blew. I can’t fucking find her.* Over and over. Every time it looped, Enzo’s blood surged hotter, his nails biting crescents into his palms. He wanted to tear the world open with his bare hands until it gave her back. He wanted to put a bullet through every man who had ever thought her name, every set of eyes that had lingered too long, every rival crew arrogant enough to imagine they could touch her.

When the hangar doors groaned open, floodlights cut across rows of vehicles and steel containers. The place smelled of oil, gunpowder, sweat. His men were already waiting—some called in from their posts, some dragged from beds, hair still mussed, shirts half-buttoned. Didn’t matter. They came running because they knew what that call meant.

They fell silent as Enzo stepped out of the SUV, Kevlar gear in place, weapons strapped down his frame. He didn’t need to say a word. The air around him said it for him. Every eye tracked him, reading the storm he carried with him, the pressure that promised violence.

“Report,” he barked.

One of the detail from San Diego stepped forward, face gray from smoke and exhaustion. “We cleared the shop, boss. Every inch. We sifted through the debris twice over.” His voice faltered, throat tight. “No body.”

Enzo’s jaw ticked. Relief should’ve hit—it didn’t. Relief meant safety. Meant survival. This meant only one thing: she was gone. Taken.

***They were watching her so close they had men ready, waiting at that shop. Waiting for her. For my girl.***

The thought made his vision black at the edges. She wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t built for this life, not the way he was, not the way the men around him were. And yet…she was the one paying for his enemies. His mistakes. His weakness. Rage punched through his ribs so hard it stole his air.

***Should’ve done more. Should’ve had more on her. Should’ve known.***

The war room was a cavern of concrete and steel at the center of the hangar. Long tables filled with maps, laptops, rifles. Screens lit the far wall, already alive with feeds Jake’s crew had managed to pull together—street cams, traffic patterns, heat signatures. Jake sat at the center with five of his hackers, all bent over glowing keyboards, fingers flying. The hum of servers filled the space like a second heartbeat.

Enzo’s boots hit the concrete, each step echoing like a gunshot. Men straightened, cleared space. The air was thick with adrenaline and fear—not of the enemy, but of him. He felt their eyes follow him, weighing his silence, bracing for orders that could ignite a war before dawn.

“Bellandi’s crew. The Russians. The Zhang brothers. Every name we’ve had heat with in the last six months.” His voice carried like a blade. “I want eyes on them all. Jake—trace movements, cross-check chatter. I don’t care what system you have to crack. Hunt them.”

Jake didn’t look up, just nodded, pale but determined. “On it.”

Enzo planted his hands on the edge of the table, leaning in. The maps spread before him swam with possibilities, but only one mattered: the trail to Lola. “She’s out there. No body means she’s alive. Which means I can find her. Which means every second we waste is one more she’s in their hands. And if she’s in their hands…” His throat locked, teeth grinding until his molars ached. “Then we make them fucking regret it.”

Inside, denial clawed at him, frantic and desperate.

***She can’t be dead. I’d feel it if she was. She’s alive. She has to be. And if she’s alive, I’ll bring her back.***

His hands shook where they pressed against the table, but his voice stayed flat steel.

The hangar doors groaned again. Dom walked in, shoulders slumped, soot streaking his clothes. His eyes were hollow, his voice gone from shouting her name.

Enzo’s vision tunneled. The sight of him lit the fuse.

“You were with her,” Enzo growled, stepping forward, heat radiating off him like fire. “You were supposed to keep her safe!”

Dom didn’t argue. Didn’t even lift his chin. He just stood there, wrecked.

That broke something loose. Enzo’s fist cracked across his jaw before anyone could move. The sound echoed like a gunshot, snapping the room into silence.

Dom staggered but didn’t swing back, just wiped the blood off his lip and muttered, “I deserve that.”

Enzo lunged again, but this time Gino stepped in, shoving Dom back and squaring up.

“Enough,” Gino snapped. “You’ll break him. You want to bleed someone, you bleed me.”

Enzo’s fist collided with Gino’s jaw, then his ribs, violence pouring out of him in jagged bursts. Every strike was a scream he couldn’t let out. Every blow was the image of Lola under rubble, hair stained with blood, body limp. Gino absorbed it, countering just enough to keep him moving, forcing him to burn through the storm without killing anyone in the room.

The men watched, tense, silent, as the cousins traded blows—Enzo’s fury against Gino’s restraint—until finally Enzo’s arms shook with the effort, chest dragging for air.

Gino shoved him back, both of them dripping sweat, blood at their mouths. “You done?”

Enzo’s glare burned, but the fire had shifted—contained now, banked into something sharper. He spat blood to the side, adjusted his vest, and nodded once.

Dom stepped forward, voice rough. “For what it’s worth… I’d trade places with her if I could.”

Enzo’s jaw clenched. For a beat, neither spoke. Then Enzo rasped, “Don’t make me bury you too.”

Dom’s nod was slow, steady. “Then let me help make sure you don’t have to.”

Enzo looked at him a long moment, the weight of it sharp between them. Then he shook his head. “Not tonight. You’ve been traveling. You've been digging through the rubble since it happened. You’re running on fumes. If we don’t find her by morning, I need you rested enough to carry the switch. Take Nico’s men, get them set, and be ready. That’s how you help me.”

Dom’s throat worked, but he nodded. “Alright.”

Enzo turned back to the maps, stabbing a finger down onto the north docks. “We start here. And here.” East side. “Block by block until they’ve got nowhere left to run.”

The room moved as one—men scattering to arm up, Jake’s team hammering at keyboards, the hum of servers filling the air.

Enzo straightened, voice dropping to a promise. “We hunt.”

Inside, his chest cracked open again.

***She’s mine. She’s alive. And until she’s back, nothing and no one gets in my way.***