Page 34 of Irreplaceable

“Yes. I’m sure.” I grinned and slung my bag over my shoulder before realizing how light it felt. Too light. “Shoot. I forgot my camera.”

“I’ll grab it.” He turned toward the stairs and took them two at a time.

“Thanks. It’s probably on the bed or maybe on top of my bag.”

I smiled at Koming when she passed. She returned my smile but dipped her head. I wondered if she’d heard us having sex last night. I wouldn’t have been surprised if everyone in the vicinity had heard. It wasn’t as if we’d been quiet. My cheeks were warm, but it was the memory of last night that set my body ablaze. Enzo’s hands. His mouth. His cock. I swallowed then glanced toward the stairs. Where is he?

“Enzo?” I called. I gave it another minute, assuming maybe he’d stopped to use the bathroom. “Enzo?” I called again, heading toward the bedroom. What on earth was taking so long?

I turned the corner and found him standing over the bed, staring at my camera. His jaw was clenched, his entire body rigid.

“What the hell is this?” he ground out.

At first, I thought he was joking. But when I realized he wasn’t, I frowned. “What is what? Why are you looking at my photos?”

“Why do you have so many photos of me on here? Eh?” He waved the camera around, and my stomach lurched. That camera had been an investment, and he was making me nervous with his cavalier movements.

And it wasn’t just the camera that was worth something to me; the images were too. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t gotten to upload them yet. And I really couldn’t afford to lose the photographs. It wasn’t just the photos for the production studio, but a number of images I planned to sell to the stock photo websites to help rebuild my finances after all the failed IUIs. I still hadn’t decided what I was going to do next on that front, but having more money in the bank was never a bad thing.

“Answer me,” he practically roared, ejecting the SD card. Enzo was a passionate man, but I wouldn’t have ever guessed him to be so volatile. So unreasonable.

Though I supposed seeing him throw his phone into the pool that first day should’ve been a red flag.

“Wait. Stop.” My eyes darted between the SD card and him, my mind trying to catch up. “What are you talking about?” What photos?

“At the market. Playing soccer.” He glared at me and pocketed the SD card but still didn’t return the camera. “Who do you really work for?”

I stared him down, unflinching. I didn’t know what the hell had gotten into him, but he had no right to treat me this way. “I told you. I’m a film location scout for a production company.”

“Cazzate.” Before I knew what was happening, he’d backed me up against the wall, his arms bracketing me in, my camera strap dangling down beside my face. We were both panting. Blood thumping through my ears. The sound of my heartbeat telling me I was alive, though he was livid and didn’t believe a word I’d said. “Rispondi.”

“Answer you what?” I ground out.

His eyes glittered with rage. “Tell me why you have photos of me!”

What was the big deal? Why was he so upset? It was just a few photos. I could easily delete them. He was blowing this way out of proportion.

Unless… No. I pushed away my ridiculous theories about Enzo’s life.

“I was photographing the market. You happened to be there.”

“And the soccer field?” His nostrils flared, and my own anger threatened to bubble over.

“I took a picture of a street vendor too. And a woman carrying a basket on her head. And a basket-weaving shop. So what?”

He inched closer, and my body went into fight-or-flight mode. My instincts urged me to use my self-defense training, but I didn’t want to escalate the situation. This was all just a misunderstanding. And I needed that SD card.

“And I suppose you also happened to sprain your ankle.”

I scoffed. Like I would go to all that trouble, especially knowing what would come of it. Because there was no going back after this. He’d crossed the line the moment he’d threatened me. The moment he’d accused me of…whatever this was. Lying?

“What the hell, asshole? Who do you think you are?”

He put his nose against mine, his breathing hard. “Don’t lie to me, cara,” he sneered. “You know exactly who I am.”

Cara was the equivalent of calling me “dear” or “darling,” but unlike when he’d call me uccellina, it wasn’t sweet or playful. It was a jeer. I’d seen many sides of Enzo this past week. Sexy. Caring. Kind. Playful. Domineering. But never this…this anger.

I shook my head, my eyes stinging. “I don’t think I know you at all.” He was cold, cruel.