WHEN FOREVER FOUND ME

Chapter Twelve-Enzo

I missed him.

That was the only thought that had been running through my head for three f*****g days.

I missed Azul.

Three days.

Three days since I had actually seen his face.

Three days since I had stood close enough to him to see those different-colored eyes looking back at me.

Three days since I had touched him.

And I was losing my f*****g mind.

I had never understood how people could miss someone so badly that it physically hurt.

Now I did.

I understood it completely.

I missed the way Azul looked at me.

Even when he was nervous.

Even when he was confused.

Even when he looked at me like I was completely insane.

Especially then.

Because at least he was looking at me.

I wanted his attention.

I wanted his eyes on me.

I wanted to hear absolutely nothing from him and still somehow know what he was thinking.

I wanted to sit across from him while he worked.

I wanted to watch him bake.

I wanted to see him move around that little café of his.

I wanted to watch him tuck his ridiculously long hair behind his ear when it got in his way.

I wanted everything.

And apparently, I had finally lost my f*****g mind.

Because somewhere between the first time I saw him and now…

I had fallen in love with him.

There.

I had finally admitted it to myself.

I was in love with Azul Bellini.

Not fascinated.

Not interested.

Not obsessed.

Well…

I was all of those things.

But underneath all of it was something far worse.

Love.

I loved him.

And strangely enough, I wasn’t ashamed of it.

Why the hell should I be?

My father had built an empire through blood, fear, and power.

I had spent my entire life taking what I wanted.

When I wanted something, I got it.

If someone stood in my way, I removed them.

That was how I had always lived.

So why would loving someone suddenly make me ashamed of myself?

It wouldn’t.

I wasn’t going to hide it.

I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t want Azul.

I wanted him.

I wanted him close.

I wanted him beside me.

I wanted him to be my man.

My partner.

My person.

And eventually, I wanted him to look at me and know that he was loved.

Even if it took time.

Even if it took patience.

Even if I had to drag the f*****g realization out of him myself.

Because there was one thing I still couldn’t understand.

Why didn’t he miss me?

That question annoyed the s**t out of me.

I had told him I missed him.

More than once.

I had called him at two in the morning because I couldn’t stand another night without seeing his face.

And then I had called him vita mia.

My life.

Who the f**k called somebody that?

I had never called anyone that.

Not a woman.

Not a man.

Nobody.

Yet the word had slipped out of my mouth like it belonged there.

Vita mia.

My life.

As if Azul was already a part of me.

As if somewhere along the way, my mind had stopped separating him from myself.

And maybe that was exactly what had happened.

Maybe he had become a part of me before I even realized it.

The realization should have frightened me.

Instead, it made perfect sense.

Azul was mine.

In my head, at least, he already was.

I knew he hadn’t completely accepted it yet.

I knew he was still confused.

Still frightened.

Still trying to understand me.

I could see it every time he looked at me.

But I wasn’t going anywhere.

I would give him time.

I would let him process it.

But I wasn’t giving him up.

Never.

The problem was…

I hadn’t been able to see him.

This week had been f*****g insane.

Shipments.

Meetings.

Security.

Routes.

Men I didn’t trust.

Men I trusted even less.

Containers arriving from different parts of the world.

India.

Europe.

Colombia.

Venezuela.

The United States.

Everywhere.

Every shipment had to be watched.

Every route had to be secured.

One mistake could cost us millions.

One mistake could cost someone their life.

So I couldn’t simply disappear.

Not this week.

Not when everything was moving at once.

I had barely slept.

Barely eaten.

And every time I had a free moment, my hand reached for my phone.

Azul.

Always Azul.

I had called him.

Texted him.

Sent flowers.

Sent Raffaele to pick him up from the bakery.

Anything I could do to feel like I was still part of his day.

But I hadn’t seen him.

Three days.

Three f*****g days.

And the worst part?

He had never once told me he missed me.

Not once.

I had told him.

He would answer with a simple:

Thank you.

Or:

Okay.

Or sometimes nothing at all.

It was driving me insane.

Did he not understand?

I missed him.

I wanted him.

I wanted to hold him.

I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to wake up beside him.

I wanted to have breakfast with him.

I wanted to take him somewhere beautiful and watch him look around with those eyes.

I wanted him beside me when I came home.

I wanted him to be the first person I saw in the morning and the last person I saw at night.

I wanted all the things normal couples had.

And in my mind, we were already a couple.

He just hadn’t caught up yet.

That was all.

He needed time.

I could give him time.

What I couldn’t give him was distance.

And I couldn’t give him the possibility of someone else.

That wasn’t happening.

Not now.

Not ever.

I had already made that very clear.

My father noticed.

Of course he did.

Nothing escaped Massimo Vitale.

We had been sitting in the middle of a meeting when I realized I had been staring at my phone again.

I hadn’t even noticed I was doing it.

My father’s voice pulled me back.

“Enzo.”

I looked up.

“What?”

He studied me.

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then his mouth curved slightly.

“You miss someone.”

I frowned.

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve been looking at that phone for twenty minutes.”

“I’m working.”

“You’re staring at a picture.”

I froze.

My father smiled.

I looked down.

He was right.

I had opened a picture of Azul.

I hadn’t even realized it.

Azul standing behind the counter of his café.

His long black hair tied loosely behind him.

Those eyes looking toward the camera.

A little flour on his cheek.

I had taken the picture without him knowing.

I stared at it.

My father sighed.

“You’re in love.”

I looked at him.

I didn’t deny it.

“Yes.”

He actually looked surprised.

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“With the baker?”

“With Azul.”

He shook his head slowly.

“Enzo…”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

“Do you?”

“He’s not part of this world.”

“I was going to say that you’re becoming distracted.”

I looked back at the picture.

“Maybe.”

My father watched me carefully.

Then he said quietly,

“Don’t destroy the boy because you don’t know how to love him.”

That sentence stayed with me.

Because maybe he was right about one thing.

I didn’t know how to love gently.

I knew how to protect.

I knew how to possess.

I knew how to control.

I knew how to make people afraid.

Love?

That was different.

Love made you vulnerable.

And I had spent my entire life making sure nobody could make me vulnerable.

Then Azul came along.

And suddenly, I cared about whether he ate breakfast.

Whether he slept.

Whether someone touched him.

Whether he was scared.

Whether he missed me.

Whether he was okay.

I cared about everything.

It was f*****g terrifying.

But I loved it.

That night, the final shipment was completed.

The distribution had been handled.

Everything was where it needed to be.

India.

Europe.

Colombia.

Venezuela.

The United States.

Everywhere.

The final meeting ended around one in the morning.

I was exhausted.

My body felt like it weighed twice as much.

My head hurt.

My eyes burned.

I wanted one thing.

Azul.

I reached for my phone.

His name was already there.

My thumb hovered over the call button.

I wanted to call him.

So badly.

But I stopped.

It was one in the morning.

He was probably asleep.

I had already made a habit of calling him late.

I didn’t want to destroy his routine.

So I put the phone down.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered.

Tomorrow, I would see him.

I had no idea how I was going to make it through the night.

But I did.

Barely.

The next morning, I woke up early.

Too early.

I didn’t even bother changing properly before leaving.

I wanted to see him.

That was it.

I called my chef.

“Prepare breakfast.”

“How many people, sir?”

“Enough for a family.”

There was silence.

“Sir?”

“Just do it.”

I wanted everything.

Pastries.

Bread.

Eggs.

Fruit.

Coffee.

Fresh juice.

Everything.

I had it packed into the car.

Then I drove.

Six in the morning.

Who the f**k arrived at someone’s house at six in the morning?

Me.

Apparently.

I didn’t care.

I needed to see him.

When I arrived at the Bellini house, the entire place was quiet.

I got out of the car carrying flowers in one hand and breakfast in the other.

Elena opened the door.

She stared at me.

Then at the food.

Then at the flowers.

Then back at me.

“Good morning.”

She blinked.

“Enzo?”

“Yes.”

She looked at the clock behind her.

Six in the morning.

“I brought breakfast.”

Her eyebrows lifted.

“For everyone?”

“Yes.”

She looked at me strangely.

I smiled.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

She stepped aside.

I walked in.

Then I added casually,

“And I missed Azul.”

She stopped.

Her expression changed.

It was almost the same expression my father had given me.

Like I had completely lost my mind.

“Azul is still sleeping.”

“I know.”

She stared at me.

I looked upstairs.

“Can I go see him?”

She blinked.

“See him?”

“Yes.”

“At six in the morning?”

“Yes.”

She looked toward Luca.

He had just appeared from the hallway.

He looked at me.

Then at the breakfast.

Then at the flowers.

Then at his wife.

“What is he doing here?”

“I brought breakfast,” I said.

Luca looked at the clock.

“At six?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me for several seconds.

Then I said,

“Can I stay with Azul?”

Both of them looked at me like I had completely lost my f*****g mind.

I probably had.

Luca finally sighed.

“Sure.”

I smiled.

“Thank you.”

I headed upstairs.

Every step made my heart beat faster.

I didn’t know why.

I had faced men with guns without blinking.

I had walked into rooms where I knew someone wanted me dead.

But walking into Azul’s bedroom?

That made me nervous.

I opened the door quietly.

And there he was.

Asleep.

My breath caught.

His hair was everywhere.

Spread across the pillow.

Some of it covered his cheek.

His face looked softer when he slept.

Peaceful.

No fear.

No confusion.

No questions.

Just Azul.

My Azul.

I stood there for a moment.

Then slowly walked closer.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

I didn’t touch him.

Not yet.

I just looked at him.

Three days.

Three f*****g days.

And seeing him again felt like I had been holding my breath the entire time.

I smiled.

“Vita mia.”

He didn’t move.

I leaned back slightly.

God.

I had missed him.

More than I wanted to admit.

More than I had ever missed anyone.

I looked at his face.

His eyelashes.

His lips.

His hair.

Those beautiful eyes hidden beneath closed lids.

I wanted him to wake up.

I wanted him to open those eyes and see me.

I wanted him to be surprised.

I wanted him to ask why I was there.

I wanted to see that confused little expression again.

I wanted to hear absolutely nothing from him.

Because even his silence had become something I craved.

I sat there quietly.

Waiting.

Watching.

And for the first time in three days…

I felt calm.

Because I was finally where I wanted to be.

Beside him.

I looked at him again.

And smiled.

Three days had been too f*****g long.

I wasn’t letting that happen again.