I frown—from cruel to nice in the flip of a switch.
He notices my reaction. “I was joking.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
He sighs and then turns back to driving, ignoring me for the most part. I do occasionally see his eyes cut to mine when my breathing grows erratic again, whether for the safety of his car or for me.
I expect us to drive to some underground society. Or to a condo high above the city. I assume Enzo might live in a mansion high up on a cliff. Or worst yet, a yacht. What I don’t expect is the house we stop in front of before Enzo cuts the engine in the driveway.
“This is your home?” I ask, as I stare at the modest house on the beach.
“Yes. Were you expecting something grandeur?”
I look at the modern, sleek looking house that can’t be more than two to three thousand square feet. I’m sure the home is expensive, it sits on a large private piece of beach proper
ty, gated and secluded, but it still seems modest compared to what I figured he could own based on his fancy suit and expensive car. But somehow this fits Enzo—no magnificence is needed to show his power and attraction.
“No, this was exactly what I was expecting.”
“Welcome to your new home, Kai.”
Home.
This will never be my home. I don’t have a home.
Enzo steps out of the car and doesn’t wait for me to follow. He jogs to the door and opens it, smiling as he steps inside.
I look around as I sit in the car. He never gave me an order. I could continue sitting in the car for the rest of the day, and he couldn’t get angry at me for disobeying. I don’t know why he trusts that I will stay. I lost the bet, but that doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for him. I never promised not to run away.
I get out of the car, my eyes scanning, trying to find my best method of escape. A habit I’ve developed after years of being captive. But one step on my injured foot and I realize why Enzo isn’t worried about me running and escaping. I can barely walk, let alone run. I would have no chance against him.
So, reluctantly, I follow through the door where Enzo went.
“Mr. Black, welcome home. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you,” a man in a suit who appears to be a couple decades older than us says to Enzo.
Black.
I frown as I try to make sense of what the man said. Enzo said that Black was who he worked for. But he never told me his last name.
Enzo turns to me and reads the confusion on my face. But he doesn’t answer my question.
“This is Mr. Westcott. He works for me and takes care of this house while I’m away. If you need anything and I’m not here, he can assist you,” Enzo says.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Kai,” Mr. Westcott says.
“How do you know my name?” I feel out of the loop, like everyone else knows the answer to a secret, but I’m not even aware of what the secret is.
Mr. Westcott smiles. “Mr. Black texted me that he would have a guest by the name of Katherine Kai Miller, but that you preferred the name Kai.”
I glance between the two men. The story checks out.
“I’ll leave you two to tour the house. Mr. Black, please let me know which rooms you would like prepared. The fridge is fully stocked, but if you need anything else, I’ll be in my office.” Mr. Westcott says before walking away.
“Mr. Black?” I ask, staring at Enzo with my hands folded across my chest.
He narrows his eyes. “You need to eat, Kai.”
“I want my question answered, Mr. Black.”