Chapter 14 A Bite of Trouble
The mansion was so quiet my footsteps echoed off the marble like gunshots. But the faint smell of coffee drifting from downstairs? That was the only thing keeping me from turning around and crawling back into bed.
"I hope this walk ends with caffeine," I said, following him. "If not, I might start screaming. Fair warning, I'm very loud when I scream."
Enzo threw me a look over his shoulder, half-amused. "Relax. Kitchen's this way. I told them to make something decent for you."
"'Decent' sounds suspiciously like prison food. Like gruel. Or mystery meat." I rebutted.
He smirked. "Waffles and pancakes with caramel drizzle and coffee sound like prison food to you?"
I stopped walking. "Wait… you're serious? That's not a joke? You're not about to lead me to a bowl of sad oatmeal?"
"Dead serious."
He pushed open the kitchen door, and the sweet, buttery smell hit me like a warm hug from my childhood A plate of golden waffles and fluffy pancakes sat waiting on the counter, steam curling into the air like a taunt.
I stood there, momentarily stunned. "Okay... this might actually be the first genuinely kind thing that's happened since I got here. I don't trust it. What's the catch?"
"Just because you were brought here against your will doesn't mean he wants you to starve," Enzo said, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee. "Bad for business if the hostage dies of malnutrition."
"How thoughtful. Really feeling the care and concern." I took the coffee and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed. "Oh my God. Real coffee. Not like... prison coffee or whatever."
"We don't have prison coffee."
"You know what I mean."
I took a sip and nearly moaned. "Okay, fine. I hate to admit this, but whoever made this deserves a raise."
Enzo leaned against the counter, watching me with that amused expression he seemed to wear like a default setting. "So, you gonna eat or just stand there having a moment with your coffee?"
"I'm multitasking." I grabbed a fork and attacked the waffles like they'd personally offended me. The first bite was so good I actually stopped chewing to fully appreciate it. "Oh, come on. This is just rude. How am I supposed to maintain my righteous anger when the food is this good?"
He laughed. "Tough problem to have."
"You mock my suffering." I pointed my fork at him accusingly, then took another massive bite. "But seriously… did Giovanni send you to check if I'm still breathing?”
"Actually," Enzo said, grabbing his own coffee, "he told me to make sure you don't escape before breakfast."
I scoffed. "So basically, babysitting duty.”
"You're a flight risk." He shot back.
"Flight risk? Me?" I pressed a hand to my chest, mock-offended. "I'm the picture of cooperation."
"You've got that look," he said, eyeing me. "The one that says, 'I could totally climb out a second-story window if I wanted to.'"
I laughed into my coffee. "Okay, you're not wrong. But in my defense, second-story windows are very climbable. It's just physics."
"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Enzo shook his head, but he was smiling. "I told Giovanni you'd be trouble."
"Aw, you talk about me behind my back? I'm flattered. What else did you say? Be honest… did you tell him I was charming? Witty? Devastatingly attractive?"
"Not in a good way," he said, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a half-smile.
For a few minutes, it almost felt normal, just two people eating breakfast and trading jokes.
Like I wasn't a prisoner and he wasn't my guard. Like this was just... life.
But something about Giovanni's absence pressed at the back of my mind like a splinter I couldn't quite reach.
I glanced up at Enzo, trying to sound casual. "So... where's your boss? Off brooding dramatically somewhere? Practicing his intimidating stare in the mirror?"
Enzo's expression shifted just slightly, but I caught it. "He left early. Business meeting."
There was something in his eyes. Something he wasn't saying.
A muscle in his jaw tightened before he looked away, suddenly very interested in his coffee.
I decided not to push. Instead, I took another bite of waffle, letting the sweetness melt on my tongue and pretending I hadn't noticed.
"Well," I said lightly, "if he's gone, I guess that means no one can stop me from having seconds. Or thirds. Possibly fourths. I'm making no promises."
Enzo chuckled. "See? I told you keeping you out of trouble would be impossible."
"Trouble?" I smirked, stabbing my pancake with perhaps excessive force. "I call it breakfast."
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "You're either going to survive this place or burn it down, Arya. I haven't decided which yet."
"I'm leaning toward both," I said with a smallgrin. "Very 'why not have it all' energy."
The moment hung there, warm and easy, until the kitchen door swung open.
One of the maids entered, the same middle-aged woman from yesterday, pale and flustered, clutching a folded note.
She froze when she saw me sitting there, her eyes darting from me to Enzo and back again like she'd walked into something she shouldn't have.
"Mr. Enzo," she said softly, almost apologetically. "This just arrived. For Mr. Giovanni. They said it was urgent."
The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees.
Enzo stood, taking the note from her hand. She disappeared faster than a magician's assistant, practically fleeing the scene.
He unfolded it, eyes scanning the words, and for just a second, something shifted in his expression. His shoulders tensed. His jaw locked.
"What?" I asked, setting down my fork. "What is it?"
"Nothing," he said too fast, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "You're a terrible liar. Like, truly awful. Has anyone ever told you that?"
He gave me a look. The kind that said don't ask. "Finish your coffee, Arya."
The playful tone was gone. His voice was low, sharp, controlled in a way that made my stomach twist.
"Enzo-"
"It's fine." He exhaled slowly, trying for a smile that didn't quite land. "Just... stay inside today, okay?"
"Is that an order?" I asked.
He shook his head. “Call it friendly advice."
He turned and walked out before I could say another word, leaving me alone with my half-eaten breakfast and a knot of curiosity twisting in my chest.
For a moment, all I could hear was the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint ticking of a clock somewhere.
I looked down at the table and at Enzo's plate he'd barely touched, his coffee still steaming.
Something was off.
I didn't know what was written in that note, or why Giovanni's absence suddenly felt heavier than his presence ever did.
But I knew one thing for sure.
Whatever business he was handling out there? It wasn't going according to plan.
And for the first time since I'd stepped into this mansion, I started to wonder if I'd be safer inside…
Or if nowhere was safe at all.