Page 287 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

Almost as if it happened in slow motion, he watched her open the door and walk away. She stopped only briefly at her desk just outside his door, to pick up her bag. One bag. After two years with him, working for him, all Charlotte had to show for it was the handbag that she carried anyway. Proof that he was a temporary stop. A place to hide until it no longer suited her. He’d been used. Not just him this time, but De Luca and Co. too.

And just like that, a blistering, consuming anger poured through his veins, erasing the panic, the desperation to hold on to her that he had felt just moments before. Fine. Enzo didn’t need her. She needed him. Charlotte may have squirrelled a fair chunk of money away in different accounts, but that didn’t compare to his resources. His power and influence. She would never know true safety on her own. Not from her father.

Enzo marched to the door and slammed it shut. How dare she compare him to that man? He raked his fingers through his hair roughly. He was trembling with anger and had no way to rid himself of it.

It wasn’t bad enough that she had likened him to Gordon Kim, she thought he wanted to control her, just like Grant Campbell. Knowing exactly the kind of filth Campbell was made Enzo want to break something.

It just went to show that one could never know what someone really thought, what was in their heart. Once again he had let someone into his life only for them to prove that he couldn’t trust anyone. As if he hadn’t learned the lesson enough. This time it had been his own fault. What the hell had he been thinking? Charlotte had been lying to him from the day they met. When he uncovered her deception, he should have rid himself of her right then in Milan. Not have wanted to protect her. Take care of her. Gift her the freedom she longed for.

And that thought had him replaying their time together on the yacht. In Ravello. If he’d thought he had reached the limit of his fury, he was wrong. Now he grew angry not just at Charlotte but at himself, for all that he had said to her. Had shown her.

Did she think he allowed everyone into his life the way he did her? She had been the first person he had taken to Ravello. That place was his sanctuary. The yacht was for him alone. But he had let her into these pieces of him no one knew about. Had told her about his family.

If she thought that was worth nothing, then he was better off without her.

‘A possession,’ he spat.

That showed Enzo precisely how little she thought of him.

He took a deep breath. It did nothing to calm him, but it did get him moving, walking stiffly to his chair. Every muscle in his body was bunched as he sat down, staring daggers at the door. At the empty table beyond.

She lied to me, he thought to himself.What use do I have for a PA I can’t trust?

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHARLOTTE’SHEARTBROKEas she turned the door handle. She was leaving everything she loved behind. Just as she had done before. She had loved her friends in Perth, loved so much of the life she’d built there, and she’d walked away from them. But as much as it had hurt to do that, it wasn’t even a fraction of the pain she felt now.

The burn on the back of her neck told her that Enzo was still staring at her. It took every bit of willpower to pick up her handbag and keep walking. Away from the job she loved. The man she loved.

Love didn’t overshadow anger, though. And she was mad. Angry that Enzo, too, had seen her as a possession.

‘You will be mine and you will cater to my every whim. That is your place, Charlie.’

She tried to shake Grant’s voice from her head. Enzo had called her his before. In Milan, it had felt like a promise. On the boat, it had seemed like passion, even though it niggled. This time, it felt like control. Enzo had called her his to stop her from leaving. He had given her choice after choice, except now when she needed it. So she used that anger as armour and walked away, forcing herself not to glance back so she wouldn’t see the look on his face. She didn’t want that to be her last memory. Not of him. Not of the only man in her heart.

Her eyes burned, but she refused to let herself cry, and as she walked down the corridor for the last time, she heard the almighty thud of a slamming door.

It felt like the door had slammed on this life. It was done, and she needed to leave.

‘Breathe, Charlotte. Just breathe,’ she told herself softly.

Yes, Enzo was angry. She understood why he would be. She even understood why he so jealously protected everything. But she was not athing.

Jabbing the Down button, Charlotte willed the elevator to come up to her faster. As soon as it dinged, she was stepping in, not even waiting the second for the doors to fully slide open.

Breathe...That became her mantra as she half walked, half ran home. When she’d moved to Sydney, she’d forgone the luxury of a car. It was one more thing tied to her fake identity, and she didn’t need the stress. Now she wished she had purchased one because to keep her composure in public was proving an almighty challenge. She couldn’t even put her head down and shut everything out: now that her father knew where she was, she had to be aware of her surroundings again.

Relief pulsed through her when she finally entered her apartment. The stinging in her eyes grew unbearable, and a sob broke free but she covered her lips with a hand, trying desperately not to fall apart. Not to think of Enzo.

The studio apartment was small.

‘...an empty life...’

It really was empty. Looking around her home, the only companions she had were plants that she couldn’t take. Her possessions were limited. She never bought more than she could pack in a suitcase in a hurry.

Are you going to run again?

What choice did she have? She no longer had Enzo’s protection. More than that, there would never be a time when Sydney didn’t make her think of him. When she wouldn’t be looking around every corner not just for danger but also for the man who had her heart but couldn’t give his in return.