Page 291 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

Then it struck him. He’d trusted her so much more than he realised.

Whenever he picked up on anything that made him doubt people, question who they were, he called them out—but he hadn’t done that with Charlotte. As if he had known instinctively that she could be trusted regardless of her disguise. His throat clogged and his eyes misted when he—the man who trusted no one—realised the extent to which he had trusted Charlotte. Finding out about her true identity hadn’t really shaken his trust. If it had, he would not have taken her to Ravello or on his yacht. He had been clutching at straws when he told himself he couldn’t trust her. He had trusted Charlotte with his company. The lifeblood of his family. His family’s legacy.

He had trusted her so much that he had let her work in his mother’s study in Perlano. Had trusted her enough to open up to her about his heartbreak, the reason he couldn’t love. Enough to confide in her and let her comfort him.

Why had he been so blind to it before? His trust in Charlotte went so far beyond anything he should have felt towards a PA because she had never been just a PA to him. She had been a dependable constant in a life where he could depend on so few people.

He hadn’t been that for her.

Charlotte hadn’t been able to depend on him. She’d had to keep her identity a secret so long He had seen how the stress of it was wrecking her, but he’d done nothing about it until Milan. Bile rose in his throat when he thought of what he had said to her.

‘You’re welcome to protect yourself!’

‘Bastardo,’he cursed himself aloud.

He’d been so set on letting her look after herself. If she thought she could, then she was welcome to it. But he had been hurting when he’d said it. Angry. Afraid of losing something—someone—he treasured. Scared she would leave. She’d left anyway.

Of course she thought she could protect herself. She had done so for two years. In that time she hadn’t thought she could come to him.

But what if he had been the kind of man she could have confided in? She didn’t need him. Charlotte didn’t need anyone. He was certain of that. She had more strength, more tenacity in her than anyone he knew. But hewantedher to need him.

‘What have I done?’

He wanted to protect her. To cherish her. To be the man she allowed in her life. She allowed so few in.

Idiota, she’s just like you and you let her go!

He wanted to be the man she ran to, not from. And she had run from him because she was right, in that moment: he had tried to control her. Hold on to her. Like he tried to control everything. Like he held on to the vineyards. But holding on that tightly tended to crush things, and that was exactly what he had done to her.

‘You’re mine.’

Enzo could kick himself. She’d told him how she was treated. Of course she would see his words as proof that he, too, wanted to own her. He needed to find her, to beg her forgiveness. He was possessive. His whole family was. They held on to things. That was how they amassed centuries’ worth of wealth. That’s what his father had done with the vineyards instead of sharing them with the woman he was meant to have loved. What Enzo had done too. What, he suddenly realised, Emilio had attempted to do. Emilio had only ever had his mother’s love. Of course he would have wanted the vineyards she gave him.

‘Maybe this could be a chance to get some of your family back.’

Charlotte had seen what he could not. Of course she had. She was always so perceptive. He’d always known that for someone of her intellect, being his PA was nowhere near challenging enough. But she’d always celebrated his wins as if they were her own. Just like him, she wanted to leave a mark, but her only option was to do so through him. How unfulfilled must she have been? Enzo felt his fists clench. He strode back to his desk, sitting so hastily his espresso cup rattled in its saucer. He had wasted a week. He wouldn’t waste another second.

Charlotte wanted more. Why wouldn’t she? A woman that smart and loving deserved the world. He leaned over his laptop, fingers flying over the keys. He was going to find her and tell her that she could have everything she wanted. She didn’t need to settle for a job just to have a life. It wasn’t one or the other. She didn’t need to live like a hermit. She didn’t need to choose safety over friends or love.

Love.

The word made Enzo’s mouth go dry and his heart race. In a cowardly act, he’d shunned love, but now he wanted it.

‘I don’t want to change you when I...’

He was so sure she’d been going to say she loved him. He only recognised now how badly he’d wanted to hear her say it, even if he hadn’t been ready. He’d wanted to hear it because he felt it too.

‘I love her,’ he said under his breath. ‘I love her, and I let her go.’

He slammed his hand against the polished wood, cursing loudly. How could he have been such an idiot?

But he would make it right. He would find her, and he would bring her back.

She’d been gone a week already. She could be anywhere. But there was one way he might be able to find her—and protect her while he did so.

He was going to track down Gordon Kim and Grant Campbell.

After Milan, he’d known he would need some insurance and had called on one of his fixers to dig into Kim’s and Campbell’s pasts, everything they wanted to keep hidden. What he already possessed might be enough to threaten them into leaving Charlotte alone, but that didn’t feel like enough for Enzo. He needed them to suffer a punishment from which they would never recover. When he was done, no one would ever do business with them again. Business would be the least of their worries.