The ride to our meeting with Ciro was quiet, the tension inside of the vehicle so thick I was having a hard time breathing. Or maybe that was just me, panicking. Enzo and I shared the backseat, but every time I glanced his way, he was staring out the window. I told myself he was only being vigilant, as he always was, scanning the area around us for any signs of danger to him or his boss. But somehow, this time, I felt it was more than that, which only worried me more. Reaching across the leather seat, I took his hand and held on tight. He squeezed my fingers...