Chapter 4 - THE MIDTOWN TRAP
Yielding to Enzo’s insistence, I climbed into the back of the sedan alongside him, the confined space immediately filling with the familiar scent of his expensive cologne and dark cedar. As the vehicle navigated the bustling Manhattan traffic, the tension between us crackled like dry timber. I turned toward the window, watching the blurred lights of Sixth Avenue streak past, but I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face.
Suddenly, the car jerked violently to the right, tires squealing against the asphalt as the driver swerved to avoid an unauthorized truck that had cut squarely into our lane. My briefcase slipped from my lap, spilling a sheaf of unredacted port schedules across the floorboards. I scrambled to gather the papers, but Enzo’s hand reached down faster, his warm fingers brushing against mine as we both grabbed for the same financial manifest. Our eyes collided in the dim light of the cabin. The vehicle stabilized, but neither of us moved. His hand stayed over mine, pressing it gently against the leather floor mat. "You see?" he murmured, his voice a low, rough vibration that bypassed my brain and settled straight in my chest. "This city is full of variables you cannot control. Stop pretending you can walk through it unprotected." I pulled my hand away slowly, breathless and unnerved, realizing that the greatest hazard to my composure wasn't the dangerous streets outside, but the man sitting inches away.
