Chapter 65: Chapter 65

◇  KEL ◇

"Hey. You alright?"

I looked up and saw a mildly frowning Enzo approaching me with his main bodyguard, Berto.

He was wearing the same sweater and pants, but his hair looked more tousled than I remembered.  Enzo had only been gone for more than an hour. Perhaps he met up with one of his brother's business associates here in Serbia. Enzo never mentioned particulars and I felt like I shouldn't ask, either.

"You look really pale," he commented once he got near enough to put his arm over my shoulder.

"I just..." I leaned against the rental car he'd paid for. I probably did look like my entire face got drained of color.  Undoubtedly, my anxiety was forming tighter knots in my stomach, threatening me to some extent. I might just spew my entire lunch meal if my thoughts got even more out of hand.

As we stood in the restaurant's parking lot,  his security detail guarded the perimeter,  definitely with loaded weapons strapped to their hips.

"It wasn't a Serbian cop, or informant." I put my dead phone away after almost half an hour of mentally scolding myself for not having brought my power bank.

As expected, Miles had been leaving me texts and had been calling me since the plane landed.  But I just totally forgot about my phone the second Niccolo showed up inside the restaurant.  He was just the last person I expected to see today.

"Yeah. The guards told me." Enzo kept up his scowl while he stood to my left.   "Sorry. I should've been there with you. But Leo wanted me to meet up with his—"

"It's okay," I lied and looked away.  Enzo sounded truly apologetic now. "I'm fine."

"Who were they? The guys who showed up?"

"Definitely not police." I looked away again and hesitated to say more.  Should I just tell him what happened?  What Niccolo and I talked about?  Should I tell him Niccolo promised to help me find Ilija?

"They said the younger guy looked familiar." Enzo glanced to the guards, then cleared his throat and propped his hands on his hips.  "Was it Andrej Dudek?"

I stared at his face to gauge his expression.  Now Enzo looked and sounded as boggled as I was.  Maybe he really had no idea that Niccolo pretended to be Andrej Dudek?

Maybe Enzo didn't know Niccolo was still alive and currently here in the city.  Maybe Enzo had no idea the guy met up with me just to warn me about Leandro and the Tomassinis.

"You okay?" Enzo murmured. He was watching and listening to me closely, as if truly bothered and curious about what happened.  "You look...scared."

Perhaps his bodyguards didn't tell him it was actually Niccolo who walked into the restaurant instead of some guy named Andrej.  Niccolo was sporting a rather formal getup earlier, but his hair looked basically the same.  Clean shaved cut with a very thin layer of curly hair left on the top.

"No. Just shocked beyond words, really." I crossed my arms below my chest.

"Been trying to call the contact but his phone's been busy the past hour." Enzo mumbled swearwords while apprehensively checking his phone.

"Thanks. But don't bother."  I bit on my thumb. My thoughts were spiraling again. I had a really bad feeling about Niccolo's warnings earlier.  However, I needed to be with someone familiar right now.

Despite the doubts sneaking up into my thoughts,  being with Enzo and his security team was still a much better deal than rushing to the airport alone to hop on the next flight to New York by myself.  I still trusted Enzo more than what Niccolo had to say about Enzo and his family.

"Who were they?" Enzo murmured.

"Let's talk inside," I suggested before opening the door to the backseat. I stepped into the rental vehicle. Total privacy was necessary for this talk we were about to have.

Enzo followed suit without another word and instructed the driver to step out of the vehicle for a moment.  Enzo sat to my right, his dark brows furrowing at me, his scowl etching a few fine lines beside his keen eyes. "Who did you talk to?"

"Niccolo." I stared back at him. "And his uncle. I mean, his godfather."

"What?" Enzo scoffed as his frown scrunched up his lips.  "How? Are you su—  So he's not..."  As if truly surprised by my statement, the guy was tongue-tied for a moment.  "You sure? It was Niccolo and not—"

"We had lunch with his uncle."

Enzo scratched his forehead and glanced away, as if simply having trouble with processing the news.  "But how? How did he even get your new number?"

"I would tell you, if I knew the answers," I muttered in reply.  The anxiety was already making me sweat profusely, but it would do me no good if I would give in to panic.  It might freak him out, too.

"Mykaela, I knew nothing about it." Enzo scoffed and put his hands up, as if in surrender. His stern tone sounded rather convincing as well. "Or the erroneous identification."

"I figured."

"What did he say?"

"That I should...go home now." I looked away from Enzo and faced the back of the driver's seat. "Take a commercial flight."

"No. No. That's not happening." Enzo forced a half-meant chuckle and faked a more relaxed tone, but he just sounded even more disconcerted.

"Niccolo said I should go back to New York by tonight."

"You really want to go home now?"

"I know I should, but..." I sighed to myself. My voice almost faltered. My emotions were already making my stomach churn no matter how hard I tried to calm the brewing storm in my mind. "I really don't wanna be alone right now."

"Sorry." Enzo caressed my arm and sounded sympathetic now. "Sorry I wasn't there with you. Glad you're okay, though."

Okay? I might seem physically fine, but my tightening chest and racing thoughts were another story.  Actually I felt sick to my stomach already. My intakes of breath were getting shallow and a tad louder, indicative of another anxiety attack, and Niccolo's heap of forbidding advice earlier just wouldn't leave my thoughts.

Why was I constantly being disappointed by people I trusted?

First:  Miles.

Then Enzo.

Not to mention the secret my parents had kept from me all these years.

But maybe Miles was right?  Maybe I shouldn't think of Enzo as my friend.  Darn it.  I was going mad with all these unanswered questions.  Niccolo didn't leave me his new contact number, either.  He said he would get in touch soon.

"Cazzo."

I glanced to Enzo.  Why was he cussing again?

His attention centered on his phone now. He was probably reading a new text or email.  "The phone number he used to call you earlier was probably a burner phone," he said while scrolling down and scowling at some messages.

"I bet."

Enzo sighed loudly and just waited for me to calm down.  He sat closer to me, his left hand stroking my upper back while we stared ahead, our gazes directed towards the dashboard. "You're fine," he murmured in assurance while I tried to steady my breathing. To comfort me better, he carefully hugged me, pulling me closer to him.  "It's gonna be fine." Enzo brushed a kiss on the side of my head.

"Did you bring my other bag?" I mumbled while wiping the cold sweat off my skin.

"Yeah. You need it?" Enzo leaned forward to grab something in the front passenger seat. My backpack.

"Thank you." I feigned a quick smile. At last, I had my phone charger with me now.

"You need something else? Want me to call someone?" Enzo asked.

I  plugged my phone to charge it and shook my head to answer his questions.  Enzo had already done a lot for me, in fact.  Just him being here with me already gave me a sense of security and much-needed consolation—no matter what Miles and Niccolo thought of him.

Right now, I just wanted to sleep it all off. I wasn't feeling a hundred percent since last night, and I knew Enzo was also exhausted from all the traveling. "Let's just go."

"Okay." Enzo kissed the top of my head again. "Rest on the plane."

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