Shielded Wrongs (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 4)

"Enzo! Wake up!" I said as loud as I could, my voice muffled by the pressure on my throat. He pulled me back up tighter, his breath hitting my ear and sounding pained even in his sleep. "Fuck," I groaned. With all the strength I had, I forced my weight back into him. Getting up to my knees, I spun. Catching him in the face with my elbow, I sucked in deep gasps of air as his hand left my throat entirely.

I bolted off the bed, going for the door to the bedroom, but the sound of Enzo's voice stopped me. "Sadie," he mumbled, his voice filled with confusion. He turned on the lamp next to the bed, looking me over and examining my heaving chest. "Fuck!" he snapped, burying his hands in his hair and tugging at the strands. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said, knowing I'd be fine by morning. His hand had cut off my breath, but it hadn't been hard enough to bruise or hurt me long-term. He nodded at me, striding past me to go for the door and presumably to his own bed.

"I'm so fucking sorry. I can't believe I fell asleep. I won't let it happen again." His somber voice broke something in me. Knowing all that pain and guilt came from something that wasn't his fault, and that I wasn't really hurt.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Come back to bed with me," I said. Even if I didn't go back to sleep, I knew that him going to sleep in the other room would be a far worse option for me. Like not getting back on a horse immediately after falling off, it would fester and taint our future chances of sleeping together.

"Don't," he grunted, sidestepping me and hurrying down the hall without looking back. With a sigh, I went back to my empty bed.

Cradling his pillow to my chest, I fought off my desire to go after him. Pushing him wouldn't do any good.

I'd wait until another day for that.

24

Sadie

Rebel's prancing at my side echoed the joy I felt as we jumped out of Enzo's SUV. Even though it had only been a few days, my girl looked good. Her ribs were less pronounced, her fur looking so much healthier with a wet nose and an eternal smile on her face. Enzo came up beside me, watching Rebel stay right next to me as we made our way up to the commercial building. Real estate in the Loop wasn't cheap. It was the opposite, in fact, but the location would offer us an entirely new clientele.

If becoming close with the Bellandi family taught me anything, it was that even businessmen needed to let loose all that pent up frustration physically. Scar and Ryker regularly sparred when they needed the outlet, and Scar was no stranger to the Underground.

Seeing him there had answered all the questions I might have had about where his nickname came from. His suit hid his body and the scars that covered it flawlessly, but in the primal pit of the cage, he let it all hang out to enjoy the opportunity to beat the shit out of someone.

He needed to get laid.

A man stood in front of the building, leaning against the metal with his arms crossed over his chest. “David,” Enzo said, guiding me over and shaking the man’s hand.

“Enzo. This must be Miss Hicks,” he said, holding out a hand for me. I glanced behind him at the building, whistling. It looked far beyond my budget. “The empty space is on the ground floor around the back of the lobby,” David explained, guiding us through the doors.

He bypassed the front desk, navigating his way through the crowd of people who went for the elevators at the side of the space.

Overly excited about the prospect of opening up a second location and what my father's agreement to something like that might mean about his trust in me, I didn't let Enzo's shake of his head bother me. His eyes darted all over the lobby, noticing everything so he could complain about it down the line.

David walked around the side of the desk as Rebel trotted at my side, and Enzo glared. Only a glass panel separated us from the gym Dad and I would soon own. Shoving the key into the lock and turning it eagerly, David stepped into the space. The bright smile he turned my way contained all the excitement I’d expressed in our various text messages about what I wanted. When he’d told me he found a space in this location, I’d about died.

“It's in the budget?” I asked, walking the outer walls of the space and glancing around.

“Slightly above, but nothing that can’t be negotiated,” David said as I turned a bright smile his way.

It might not have been everything I loved about our original location, but it would serve a purpose. Instead of a mix of warehouse architecture and old charm, everything was polished chrome and modern lines. Still, I could picture where the rings would go and where we'd line up the weights and other equipment. It would need to be smaller than the original given the limitations of finding space in the Loop, but I didn't doubt the location would flourish.

"Sadie," Enzo said, interrupting my musing.

"Hmm?" I hummed, spinning around in the empty space.

"It's a no. There are way too many security risks here. That door might as well not be there with the glass. Those windows are floor to ceiling. Drive-by shootings are a genuine possibility with a full-blown war brewing, and there's literally no place to hide in here if that happens. You'd have a roomful of dead customers, not to mention you'd probably be killed too. It doesn't work for your life as a Bellandi," he said. His tone was soft, the remnants of his guilt from the night before clinging to him throughout the day. I tried not to let it bother me, because I knew I'd feel the same if I'd unintentionally hurt him, too.

"I'm not a Bellandi," I murmured back.

He raised an eyebrow at me, sighing as he stepped into my space. His hand came down on Rebel's head, touching her gently so that she took it for the cue it was and settled in to sit down like the lazy dog she was. "Do you think a Bellandi man tells his woman he loves her without intending for it to go in a certain direction, Baby Girl?" he asked, touching my arm gently as I stilled.

"You're not a Bellandi either," I said, changing the tone of the conversation. Or at least attempting to.

"I'm a Bellandi man, no matter what my last name is. A made man. I'm not sure you understood what I meant when I told you I loved you the other night. So I’ll break it down for you. I'm a Bellandi man. You're a Bellandi woman, and we'll make that official sooner than you'd like

in typical Bellandi fashion, I'm sure."