Page 21 of Single Malt Drama

“They aren’t going to let up until there’s a wedding.”

“They will if Gabe agrees to business as usual.”

I couldn’t believe his arrogance. Is he really suggesting we stay in the mob? “You and I both know that isn’t going to happen.”

He turned with a paring knife in his hand. “Then someone needs to convince Nico that marrying me is a horrible idea.”

While I knew Nico had zero intentions of marrying the asshole, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to bust his balls. “We could do a press release detailing your erectile dysfunction and chronic STDs.”

“Ha ha.”

I met his gaze and dropped the clown act. “Nico doesn’t want this any more than you do.”

Enzo’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

“We’ve talked about it.”

Smirking, he shook his head. “Did she tell you she all but demanded I propose to her?”

“Yes. She had her reasons, but it’s not my place to tell you what they were.” She can do it herself when she gets here.

“That’s convenient.” He turned back to the food.

While I understood Nico had behaved like a stark-raving lunatic, his attitude was starting to piss me off. “She’s a victim in this scenario, too.”

“I appreciate you coming to tell me this, but you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Enzo had always had an air of superiority about him, but when he walked to me and clamped his wet hands on my shoulders, I wanted to throat punch him.

Oh yeah, asshole? Let’s see who knows what. “I know you left the exterior security cameras on last night. I called the office and had them turned off when I came home, but…”

The color drained from his face. “Who saw the footage?”

“Pops, for one.” I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “Ma had an epic meltdown, so I assume she heard about it, if not witnessed it for herself.”

“Christ.”

I grabbed a chair, turned it backward, and straddled it—a habit I knew he hated. “How could you forget to turn them off? The feed goes live to Marchionni Corp security. Anyone with the password can log in and check it out.”

“Do me a favor. Don’t mention this to Shanna. I should be the one to—”

“Don’t mention what to me?” The woman in question glanced between us. If looks could kill, we’d be bleeding out on the kitchen floor.