“Yes.” I didn’t look away. “You have a reputation to live up to, right?”
“You think I poisoned your food.” He chuckled. “Like I need to use drugs to make you obedient.”
“I think you’re exactly the kind of man who would,” I spat out.
For a second, he just stared at me. Then he laughed. Not loud. Not mocking. Genuine. Like I’d surprised him. My chest tightened.
“You’re serious,” he said, pushing off the doorframe. “You actually believe that.”
“Everyone knows you’ve done worse,” I snapped. “So why wouldn’t I?”
He stepped closer. I stepped back.
“Eat,” he said again, softer now.
“No!” I hit the table behind me. Cornered. My breath came faster. Too fast.
Before he could move, I did. I lunged sideways, shoving past him, ignoring the explosion of pain in my ankle as I ran for the door.
Freedom. Just a few steps left.
Leo’s hand caught my arm, hard. I gasped as he yanked me back, my body slamming into his chest. Pain shot up my leg as I lost my footing, but he didn’t let me fall.
“Let me go!” I struggled, hitting his chest, pushing, clawing at anything to get away. “I fucking hate you!”
“Stop,” he demanded.
“I’m not eating that!” I snapped, my voice breaking now. “I’m not just going to sit here and let youmurderme!”
“Chiara.”
The way he said my name cut through everything. I froze, and not because I wanted to. Because my body remembered what happened when he last touched me. His grip loosened slightly, but didn’t leave me.
“I didn’t poison your food,” he said.
“I don’t believe you,” I spat out.
“I know,” he said. That almost made it worse.
My chest heaved. My hands were still pressed against him, fingers twisted in his shirt like I didn’t know whether to push him away or hold myself upright.
“I won’t let you starve yourself either,” he added.
“I’d rather starve than be your puppet.”
Something flickered in his eyes then. Darker this time.
“Careful,” he said quietly. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“I don’t care what it sounds like,” I shot back, even though my voice shook. “I’m not letting you control me.”
He studied me for a long second. Then, without warning, he reached past me, grabbed the same piece of bread I’d dropped earlier, and took a bite.
He chewed slowly. Swallowed. Nothing happened. My pulse stumbled.
“That answer your question?” he asked, tossing the bread back on the plate.
I stared at him. Then at the tray. Then back at him.
