Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 154

### You Were My Favorite Hurt, And My Hardest Goodbye by Ava Knight
**Chapter 154**

A faint smile graced her lips, a stubborn curve that fought against the weight of the moment. “Almost dying, or getting taken twice in a year? That’s got to be some sort of record,” she quipped, her voice light yet laced with something deeper.

Nico felt a lump form in his throat as he observed the way Enzo was simultaneously breaking and holding himself together. He leaned over her, his thumb brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that Nico had never witnessed from him before. It was a reverence, a sacredness that seemed to envelop them both, and for a fleeting moment, Nico felt like an intruder in their shared space.

When Enzo finally pulled back, his forehead lingered against hers, their breaths mingling in the charged air. He remained there, as if tethered to her, unwilling to sever the connection. It was too intimate, too raw, and Nico found himself looking away, unable to bear the intensity of the moment.

Eventually, Enzo straightened his posture, his shoulders squaring as if he were donning armor once more. “I’ve got a meeting with Dmitri,” he said, his voice low and firm. His piercing gaze shifted to Nico. “You get her home.”

The weight of those words crashed down on Nico, a heavy mantle of responsibility, trust, and command settling squarely on his chest. It felt like a gauntlet thrown at his feet. As Enzo brushed past him, his hand landed heavily on Nico’s shoulder—a simple gesture, yet it felt monumental, as if Enzo had placed the very crown of his empire upon him.

Nico’s throat tightened, a knot forming as he struggled to process the gravity of it all.

Enzo moved toward the door, his figure a silhouette against the dim light.

“Excuse me, Mr. Maraschi—” Lola’s voice cracked, but it sparked with defiance, even in her bruised and stitched state. “If you don’t kiss me before you leave, I will break your legs.”

Despite himself, a smirk tugged at the corners of Nico’s mouth. That was quintessential Lola—battered but unyielding, a fire that refused to be extinguished.

Enzo let out a raw laugh, surrendering to her demand. He bent down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both hungry and desperate, a moment of pure emotion that seemed to encapsulate survival itself. Nico felt his chest tighten, an ache blossoming within him as he witnessed something so primal, so beautiful.

When Enzo finally withdrew, Lola grasped his wrist, her voice a whisper yet filled with conviction. “I’ll see you at home?”

“Always,” Enzo replied, his tone low and resolute, a promise sealed with finality.

And then he was gone, leaving the room feeling colder, emptier—like a part of the world had just slipped away.

Nico remained silent, his jaw clenched, watching as Lola settled back into her pillow, her eyes still hazy with lingering pain. The weight of what he had just witnessed pressed heavily on him: Enzo, both shattered and whole, Lola, alive and still sparking with spirit, and himself caught in the tumultuous sea of loyalty and a love he could no longer ignore.

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