Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Caged and Watched

Noah’s

The sound of a gunshot echoed sharply and loudly in my ears, even though I was sitting alone in my room. I sat on the edge of the bed, my knees pulled tightly to my chest, staring blankly at the pile of items Ren had brought back from the mall. There were new clothes, a couple of books, and various snacks. They were nice things, much better than anything I had ever owned, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch any of it. My mind kept replaying what happened at the mall.

That guy, some creep with a sleazy grin, had cornered me the moment Ren wasn’t looking directly at me. His hands grabbed at me, his breath was hot and disgusting, and I had completely frozen in place, too scared to move or scream until Ren suddenly pulled him off me. I could still vividly feel his fingers on my arm, and the memory made my skin crawl with discomfort.

I hugged my knees even tighter, my heart heavy with dread. Would I ever get out of this place? Would I ever go back to college, see my friends again, or live a normal life? Or was this now my entire existence—stuck here in this big, dark house, caged up like some wild animal? Enzo’s strict rules echoed clearly in my head: don’t run away, don’t talk back, and always do exactly what he says. I hated this life. I hated him for this.

But that weird, confusing pull in my chest, the one I felt every single time he came close to me, wouldn’t go away. It made me feel sick and utterly confused, like I was actively betraying myself and everything I believed in. I lay back onto the bed, the mattress creaking softly under my weight, and closed my eyes. I just wanted to sleep deeply, to forget everything—my dad, the awful chains, and Enzo’s cold, hard eyes. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Or maybe it would be even worse than today. Either way, I was too tired to care about the future.

…

Hours later, I felt something soft brush lightly over me. A blanket. My eyes were heavy, still half-asleep and blurry, but I froze instantly when I felt a hand slide around my waist. The hand was warm and strong. A breath tickled my face, and then I heard his voice, low and rough. “I’m truly sorry,” Enzo said, speaking so quietly I almost didn’t hear it at all.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I opened my eyes wide and sat up fast, but he was already gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him. I sat there, my breath shaky and uneven, wondering what the hell had just happened. Was that real, or a dream? Did Enzo—the cold, scary Enzo—just genuinely apologize to me?

The next day, I was sweeping the long hallway, performing one of the chores Enzo had given me to “keep the house clean.” The house was huge, all dark wood and heavy velvet curtains, but it felt exactly like a prison.

I kept my head down low, focusing intently on the broom, when I heard voices coming from the large living room. Enzo had a guest, some guy I hadn’t seen before now. I peeked carefully around the corner, and the guy’s eyes locked onto me immediately.

His look was sharp and intensely curious, like he was sizing me up for something. I looked away fast, my face burning with embarrassment, and kept sweeping, but I could still feel him watching my every movement.

“Who is that young man?” the guy asked, his voice loud enough to carry clearly into the hall. I froze in place, gripping the broom handle tighter.

Enzo’s voice was calm and dismissive, but there was a subtle edge of warning to his tone. “Why do you care who he is?”

The guy laughed sharply, a mocking and condescending sound. “Did you know he’s a human?” he said, like it was some kind of ridiculous joke between them.

I glanced up quickly, and Enzo’s eyes flicked to me for a second, then immediately back to the guy. “Yeah, I know he is,” he said. “So what difference does that make to you?”

The guy laughed again, even louder this time. “And he’s still somehow alive? You haven’t killed him yet for the trouble he caused?”

My blood ran instantly cold with fear. Killed me? What exactly was he talking about now? My hands shook, and the broom slipped a little on the floor. I didn’t understand what they meant, but the single word “kill” stuck in my head, sharp and terrifyingly clear. I wanted to run away and hide, but my feet refused to move an inch.

Enzo’s voice cut through the air, cold and hard now. “He’s my slave,” he said clearly. “Why would I kill my own property?”

Slave. The word hit me instantly like a physical punch. Was that all I was to him? My chest tightened painfully, and I gripped the broom handle so hard my knuckles turned white and hurt. The guy laughed again, leaning back casually in his chair. “Something’s truly not right about this situation,” he said, his voice low, as if he knew a secret Enzo didn’t. “Come on, Enzo. Just give him to me as a gift.”

Enzo stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. “Dean,” he said, his voice like ice, “that is not going to happen.”

Dean. So that was his name. I kept my head down low, desperately pretending to sweep the floor, but my heart was racing uncontrollably. Enzo’s voice suddenly got sharper and more impatient. “If you’re finished with your silly questions, you can leave now.”

I glanced up just in time to see Enzo quickly walk away, his back stiff with frustration. Dean stayed exactly where he was, his eyes still fixed intently on me, and a creepy, unsettling smile spread slowly across his face. I looked away, my stomach twisting with unease, and focused intensely on the floor, trying to pretend he wasn’t even there in the house.

Time dragged on slowly as I finished cleaning the long hallway. I was finally done and ready to head back to my room to change out of my dusty clothes, when I turned a corner and bumped forcefully right into someone. I stumbled awkwardly, almost falling over, but strong hands immediately caught me, quickly steadying me on my feet. I looked up, and it was Dean. His smile was even wider now, his eyes glinting with something predatory that made my skin crawl with fear.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice too smooth and soft to be genuine.

I nodded quickly, pulling away from his grasp immediately, my heart pounding hard. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I mumbled, stepping back a few paces.

Before I could move any further away, someone suddenly yanked me hard from behind, forcefully pulling me away from Dean. I stumbled again, my shoulder hitting a solid, hard chest, and I looked up to see Enzo. His eyes were cold and dangerously locked directly on Dean, and his jaw was tight, like he was barely holding back an immediate storm of rage.

“Stay away from him, Dean,” he said, his voice low and intensely dangero

us, a deep, warning growl rumbling beneath the words.