Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles novel Chapter 39

(Aria’s POV)

The hot steam clings to my skin as I step out of the bathroom, wrapping my towel tightly around my body. My hair drips onto my shoulders, the strands sticking to my damp skin. I exhale, tilting my head back slightly, savoring the warmth that still lingers from my shower.

The night left me rattled.

The triplets had gotten under my skin–their teasing, their touches. Every word, every glance had burrowed deep, leaving something restless inside me.

And Matteo’s hand on my waist…

I shake my head, forcing the thought away.

I refuse to let them mess with my head.

I walk toward the dresser, rummaging through my bag for something to sleep in. My fingers brush over the fabric of a worn T–shirt, but my mind is still in that damn poker game.

The way Enzo’s eyes had darkened when I challenged him. The way Dante had smirked, knowing. The way Matteo had touched me, just enough to test a reaction…

I let out a frustrated sigh.

I don’t have time for this,

Just as I reach for my clothes, I hear it-

A soft click.

The door swings open

1 freeze.

www

Enzo stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he owns the damn place.

His storm–gray eyes flick over me, slow, deliberate. They drag down my damp skin, over the curve of my bare shoulders, down to the towel clutched tightly at my chest, to my legs dripping water.

I swallow hard, heat creeping up my neck

“Seriously?” I snap, gripping the towel tighter. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Enzo doesn’t move. His gaze remains steady, unreadable, but there’s something else there. Something dark.

“You left the door unlocked, Button.” His voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it.

I hate that stupid nickname. I hate the way it makes my stomach flutter.

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Chapter 39

I straighten my shoulders, forcing my expression into something unimpressed. “Well, your’s seen nigh fett

He doesn’t.

Instead, he takes a step inside.

My breath catches

His presence is overwhelming–his height, his sheer confidence, the way the air shifts with him.

1 take a step back on instinct, my spine pressing against the dresser. “Enzo,” My nice it sharper now. A warning

A smirk tugs at his lips, but his eyes are darker than before.

“You’re nervous,” he murmurs,

“I’m annoyed,” I correct.

He moves closer.

I feel it before I fully register it–the heat radiating off him, the way his scent wraps around me.

“Is that so?” His fingers lift, reaching out.

For a second, I think he’s going to touch me.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, his hand moves past me, to the dresser behind me. He picks up a small, silver ring I’d taken off before my shower, turning it between his fingers.

His voice is softer now. “You always take this off before bed.”

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’ve seen you do it.” He twirls the ring once before setting it back down. “You wear it all day, but never to sleep.”

say to that. I don’t know why he noticed.

My heart thuds against my ribs, I don’t know what to say

His gaze flicks back to mine, and I swear the air between us shifts.

The heat, the tension–it’s suffocating.

His hand lifts again, this time brushing against my arm–just a ghost of a touch, but it sets my skin on fire.

I inhale sharply, gripping the towel tighter. “You need to leave.”

Enzo doesn’t look away. “Do 17”

My pulse is hammering now. “Yes,”

A beat passes.

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Chapter 39

Then, slowly, agonizingly slowly, he leans in, just enough that I feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek.

His voice is quiet, but it slides down my spine like

“Then tell me why you’re still standing here.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

Because he’s right.

I should’ve pushed him away by now. I should’ve shoved him toward the door, slammed it shut behind him, and moved on

like nothing happened.

But I haven’t..

I can’t.

Because the way he’s looking at me–like he’s studying me, memorizing me, deciding what to do with me–it’s got my pulse thrumming in my ears.

His gaze dips lower, just for a second.

Not enough to be crude.

But enough to wreck me.

I grip the edge of the dresser behind me. “This isn’t a game.”

Enzo tilts his head, considering me. “It’s not?”

His smirk is slow, dark. “Then why do you look like you don’t want me to leave?”

My breath hitches. “I do.”

It’s whispered, barely a sound, but it cuts through me like a blade.

Before I can respond, he lifts his hand again.

This time, he doesn’t stop.

His fingers graze the side of my jaw, trailing lightly down my throat.

My skin erupts in goosebumps.

I should stop him. I should.

But I don’t

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