As we stepped into the kitchen, Enrico finally loosened his hold on me. Chiara stood waiting, attempting—and failing—to stifle her enormous grin. From behind me came a quiet chuckle, and I whipped around to find Enrico struggling to hide his amusement, his expression softened by the humor glinting in his eyes.
“Come on, Ella. You know he had it coming,” he laughed, his grin lopsided.
“Honestly, he deserved much worse.”
“Then you should’ve asked for more than five minutes,” I quipped, arching an eyebrow.
“Somehow, I have a feeling this isn’t the last time you and Leonardo will face off.” His smirk deepened.
Chiara chimed in, giggling, “Did you see his face after you punched him? I swear the jerk practically fell in love right then and there. Oh, and for the record, we actually gave you
