𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

10. Embracing Her Wounds

"When are you planning to spill?"

I took a sip of my scotch, glancing at Enzo as he downed a shot of vodka without hesitation like it was the most normal thing to do in broad daylight.

"What do you mean, spill?" I feigned ignorance, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He was dying from the inside to find out more about the detective.

He cocked his head, studying me with an amused smirk. "About your new fierce pet, you brought to the breakfast table."

"She's just a little entertainment to keep me occupied." I leaned back, casually dismissing his curiosity. "Besides, she might prove useful in tracking down that bastard Brandon. He'll surely try to contact her."

"You expect me to buy that?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Your twenty-eight-year-old ass knows very well that I can see right through you, Parker." This bastard knew me too well, having spent our childhood and teenage years together.

"I'm not here to satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Connell, because no matter what I say, you will interpret it in your spoiled brain as a romantic fantasy," I replied, taking another sip of scotch. He leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Here's what I think," he began, popping a few cashews into his mouth.

"And here we go," I muttered. "I knew this was coming." I shook my head, anticipating the direction of his thoughts.

"I think you two would make the perfect couple," he said, chewing on the cashews. "since she is the perfect female version of you." Did I forget to mention Lorenzo fucking Connell, despite being the vicious beast on earth, has a soft romantic soul inside him?

"Female version of me?" I chuckled. "I'm not incompetent, stubborn, annoying, and a foul-mouthed bitch."

"Exactly. It's a match made in heaven." Enzo nodded.

"This conversation is over for me." I sighed, shaking my head.

"And unlike the other women you've encountered," he persisted, ignoring me completely, "Camille isn't after your money or trying to kill you."

I arched an eyebrow, leaning back against the bar. "She did try to kill me twice."

"But did you die?" He countered as if it was a valid argument. I rolled my eyes, realizing the futility of reasoning with him.

"Last time a woman stood up against you, you chopped her head off and threw her body in the sea because she feared water. But when Camille stood up against you, what did you do?" Enzo pressed, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. I hesitated for a moment; memories of watching her strip in the dark, spanking her ass, gripping her neck and pushing her against the wall, tucking her hair behind her ear, and her climbing up my body flashed through my mind.

"I held her hostage and forced her to bend her morals and bury dead bodies," I admitted proudly.

"No. You carried her to your bedroom fucking bridal style." Enzo tsked, and I almost slammed my head on the bar.

"That never happened," I retorted, my tone firm. "I'm sick of you exaggerating and romanticizing everything." I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, I'm just saying, you two have cracking chemistry, brother." Enzo raised his hands defensively.

"And I'm telling you to shut your shitbag, or I'll personally knock out all of your fucking teeth." I clenched my jaw, staring at him with frustration and amusement. He shrugged, undeterred.

"Come on. Camille is the only potential love interest for you. You never let anyone near you anymore except for that naked bitch Julie who is nothing but a whore." I threw him another deadly glare that was smoothly disregarded by the asshole.