“Maybe.” Enzo chuckles, amused by my jealousy, which makes me even angrier. “She likes to get up early, so we’ve probably missed her. Maybe I’ll introduce you next time she comes over.”
The jealousy that was a small flame before turns into a blazing wildfire at his words. He knows her well, knows how she likes to sleep, and obviously trusts her since she can freely come and go.
I slide out of bed and get dressed without any more questions. When I’m ready, he is already standing at the door, holding it open for me.
We walk downstairs together, my eyes scanning the house for Eli as we do. I spot two guards and a maid, but not Eli.
Entering the kitchen, I look for Addy but instead find Silvia–the cook–standing in front of the stove.
Instead of sitting down at the dining table like usual, Enzo keeps walking. I follow him out to the terrace, where we are apparently having breakfast. The table is ready for us, decked for two people. I can’t help but wonder if Silvia somehow knew I was coming or if this was originally set for Alessandra.
“Croissants just got done baking,” Silvia chimes as she brings us a basket filled with fresh pastries. “I’ll leave you now unless you need something else before I go?”
Enzo waves her off, dismissing her without words.
I reach for the still warm croissant and dip it into the whipped honey butter before stuffing half of it into my mouth. I need to keep my yap occupied, so I don’t say something that gets me in trouble again.
“Did you not eat well while you were in time-out?”
I almost spit the food back on the table. Time-out? What a dick.
“I was fed well by my prison guards. Thank you for your concern,” I mock, after I finish chewing.
“That’s me, always concerned about your wellbeing and comfort.”
Shaking my head at him in disbelief, I turn back to my pastry instead. After I finish, I eat one more and wash it down with a large coffee.
“Boss, the new shipment arrived,” Eli’s voice comes out of nowhere, making me jump in my seat. “I figured you wanted to know right away.”
I turn my head slightly to look at him. He is standing a few feet away, but it’s already too close to comfort. The small hairs on the back of my neck are raised, making me feel like a cat getting ready to fight—a cat fighting a grizzly bear.
“I’ll check on it later, but since you are here. Would you like to explain why you let Amara out of her cell without my approval?” Enzo’s voice is casual, though this situation is anything but. My pulse picks up, waiting for this to unfold.
“Is that what she told you happened?” Eli raises his eyebrow, faking a shocked expression.
I knew it, I knew he would fucking turn this around on me, and Enzo is going to believe him. He’ll take his side, no matter what.
“If it’s not, please, enlighten me.”
“I went to check on her and brought her food. When she grabbed the tray, she surprised me by kicking me in the balls and running out the door.”
I’m fuming. I’m so fucking mad, I want to gouge his eyes out. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to force myself not to talk. I know whatever I say now will make it worse. He will call me a liar, not believing anything coming out of my mouth.
“Nothing to say, Amara?” Lorenzo snaps at me.
Grinding my teeth together, I shake my head and look away.
“I told you she is nothing but trouble. Let me take her back downstairs, or even better, let me put a bullet in her brain.”
“That won’t be necessary. I do have one more question, though. Why didn’t you tell me she was running around loose in the house?”
“Addy said she was going to take her to you for punishment.” My chest constricts at the mention of Addy. I don’t want her to get in trouble. “I trusted the maid, and I wasn’t worried about her getting away. Plus, I had to ice my fucking balls.”
“I’ll talk to Addy about it. You may go,” he dismisses Eli, then turns his full attention to me.
“I didn’t lie,” I defend myself before he can accuse me.
“It’s not like you to be so quiet about anything. Care to tell me the whole story?”
“No…” I shake my head. “It won’t matter what I tell you anyway. You’ve already made up your mind.”
“Come with me,” he growls, his eyes gleaming. Standing up, he holds out his hand for me to take. I don’t want to go anywhere with him. My mind and body aren’t on the same course, though, because I find myself standing and placing my hand in his.
He leads me from the terrace back inside and toward the door that leads into the basement. I dig my heels into the floor as soon as I realize where he is heading.
“I’m not taking you back to the cell,” he explains and tugs on my hand. Reluctantly, I let him lead me further, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter.
As we descend the stairs, my mind, and body clam up, almost making me trip. Seeing this place has bad memories rushing back into my head. He doesn’t catch my hesitation or just doesn’t care because he continues to pull me down the stairs. The cobblestone floors are cold underneath my feet, making me wish I had slipped on some shoes.
He pulls a set of keys from his pocket as we pass the door that leads to the cell that had been my home for a few days.
The door before us is wooden, wide, and large. I wonder what is behind it, but at the same time, I don’t want to know. Enzo has secrets. Who knows what, or who, he has buried down here.
Opening the door, he smiles at me. It isn’t a warm and friendly one, but more like one from a serial killer. Along the lines of, I will eat you alive and laugh while doing it.
I enter the room carefully, afraid something will jump out at any point and time. He moves behind me ever so slowly, like a snake ready to strike. The room is simple, except there are drawers that line one of the wooden walls.
What they contain, I have no idea. I’m sure I’m about to find out, though.
“Go stand at the end of that wall…” He points to the far wall, the one that seems as if it is a million miles away.
Dread eats at my insides. Is this the end? Is he going to kill me? I try my best not to show weakness, but I know as much as he does, that he will kill me if he wants to.
With my head held high, I walk the distance as if I’m walking to my own funeral. Turning around to face him, I stand against the wall with my back straight. If I am going to die, I will be dying in a way that says I stood tall and proud when I was given no other choice.
A smirk lights his face. It is devious and makes the darkness in his eyes seem that much darker. His body looks hungry for either release or bloodshed.
The silence stretches between us, and I’m sure that this will be the end. I watch as he pulls open a drawer, his eyes growing wide with happiness as he handles whatever is in his hands.
I look up through the shitty lighting to see a knife sitting on the palm of his hand. He grabs the end of it like he has experience using it. He probably does…
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it.” The words rush from my lips, unintentionally. He peeks up at me again, pushing away a couple pieces of his dark hair that have landed on his forehead.
“I’m not going to kill you... yet. Instead, I’m going to do something far worse…” He examines the knife like he isn’t sure that it will do its job. If he isn’t going to kill me, what is he going to do?