The moment Enzo’s boots hit the tarmac, the static in his chest only grew louder.
Jet engines roared behind him, Naples fading into the misty distance as the private plane’s door closed again. The flight had been smooth, uneventful. But his head was a warzone. His fingers twitched. His jaw locked. His phone burned in his hand.
No messages.
No missed calls.
No Amelia.
She hadn’t reached out even once.
And he didn’t blame her.
He’d disappeared—no explanation, no warning. he could picture the cold expression on her face when she realized he was gone. The hollow hurt behind her eyes, the confusion turning to anger. It was what he feared and deserved.
Ale fell into stride beside him, sunglasses on despite the clouded sky. “You sure about this?”
Enzo didn’t respond. He walked faster.
A
