His eyes didn’t leave mine, not even for a second.
“She wants to taste something made by your hands,” he finished quietly.
Something inside my chest tightened—then snapped clean through whatever restraint I had left.
“Hell no.”
The words burst out before I could stop them.
“Dinner is at 1800,” he said, as though I hadn’t spoken at all.
“Your classes end at 1500. I expect you home by 1600.”
Each word precise.
“You’ll work with the chef to prepare the meal.”
A pause.
“You’ll serve it.”
Another pause.
“That is not a request.”
My jaw tightened.
“I don’t cook,” I shot back, my voice rising despite my attempt to keep it controlled. “We have five chefs on staff. Full-time. They—”
“Violet wants you to do it.”
“And what Violet wants,” he added, “she gets.”
My heart fractured.
A slow, dragging rip behind my ribs, like something was being pulled loose one thread at a time.
I could feel the strain of it—the way my breath stuttered, the way my lungs hesitated before remembering how to work.
Vincenzo’s words replayed in my mind.
I wanted to believe the boy in the cave hadn’t completely disappeared.
That somewhere under all of this—
There was still something left of him. Something that remembered me.
I forced a smile.
The kind of smile you learn when you’ve spent years lying to handlers, to assets, to anyone who needed to believe you were something you weren’t.
“Fine,” I said, forcing a lightness into my tone that didn’t quite belong there. “At least I have your protection. Your name. Your money.”
I gave a small shrug, though the movement felt stiffer than I intended.
“I can buy whatever I want. Live comfortably. Live... large, as you would put it.”
The words tasted hollow even as I said them, but I didn’t stop.
