Chapter 11
1118 Words
Aria
The silence in the room was heavy.
I stood at the door, Leo still clinging to my neck like a leech. He was small and hot with fever, but his grip was surprisingly strong. It was like he was afraid that if he let go for even a second, I’d vanish into thin air.
Dante hadn't moved from the doorway. He was just watching us, his golden eyes narrowed and his jaw still tight. He looked like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces for. Vesper stood behind him, her hand still hovering near her holster. She looked like she wanted to pull me away, but the look on Leo’s face kept her back.
Suddenly, a loud, long rumble echoed from Leo’s stomach.
The boy tensed up, looking embarrassed, and buried his face deeper into my shoulder. I felt a small tug at my heart. He was actually like such a baby now, unlike earlier. He was starving, but was too stubborn to admit it.
I looked up at the nanny, who was still hovering near the door, looking terrified. "He’s hungry. Can you prepare something light for him again? Maybe some plain toast or a different bowl of oatmeal?"
The nanny nodded quickly, but before she could take a step, Leo’s head snapped up.
"No!" he shouted. His voice was full of anger. "I won't eat it. Don't touch the stove."
I looked down at him, surprised. "Leo, you need to eat. You're weak."
"I don't want her food," he muttered, his eyes flickering toward the nanny with a look of pure distrust.
Dante took a step into the room, his shadow stretching over the bed. "Leo, enough of this. You’ve been throwing tantrums all morning. The nanny is here to take care of you. You will eat what she provides, or..."
I didn't let him finish and turned my head, fixing it on him with the coldest glare I could muster. I didn't care if he was a Lycan King or if he could snap me in half. Right now, he was just a terrible father.
"He said no, Dante," I said, my voice final. "Stop barking orders at him like he’s one of your soldiers. He’s sick."
Dante actually stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened slightly, and he looked at me like I had just slapped him. In the background, I heard Vesper mumble something under her breath about my "attitude," but I ignored her.
"I don't like her food," Leo whispered again, his fingers clutching my green sweater.
I looked at the boy. He wasn't just a brat. He was smart, too smart for a six-year-old. I suspected he knew something I didn't, but I didn't want to push him. I also knew he couldn't survive on an empty stomach though.
"Fine. I’ll cook something for him myself."
Vesper let out a laugh. "You? You’re a prisoner and a doctor, not a chef. I’m not letting you near the kitchen. How do we know you won't try to kill him the moment we turn our backs?"
I turned to Vesper, looking her dead in the eye.
"Trust me, Vesper, if I wanted to kill anyone in this building, it wouldn't be the little boy who’s currently the only person I actually like. Besides, I'm here against my will, remember? Since he’s chosen me to be his personal doctor and cook, I guess I'm stuck."
Vesper looked like she was about to explode, but Dante raised a hand, silencing her. He was watching me with a strange expression I couldn't quite name.
"Fine. You’ll cook. But I’ll be watching you."
I huffed, shifting Leo’s weight. "Suit yourself. Just stay out of my way."
I carried Leo, who refused to let go, while Dante and Vesper followed behind like a royal escort. When we reached the kitchen, it was massive, filled with high-end appliances. The staff scurried out of the way the moment they saw Dante.
I set Leo down on a high stool near the counter. I kept him close enough that I could keep an eye on him. I decided to keep it simple and just make some buttered toast and a poached egg.
As I started moving around the kitchen, something strange happened. Leo started talking.
He wasn't shouting or screaming anymore or talking like some grown assed man. He was actually laughing at some of the silly faces I made when the toaster popped too loudly. He asked me what I was doing, why I was cracking the egg that way, and if I knew how to make pancakes.
"I’m a doctor, Leo. I have to be precise," I joked, carefully sliding the egg into the water. "If I can perform brain surgery, I think I can handle an egg."
Leo giggled, his black eyes actually brightening for the first time. I glanced over at Dante, who was leaning against the far counter. He was staring at us, and for once, he looked completely lost. He looked surprised, like he had never seen his son act like a normal child before.
Dante cleared his throat, trying to step into the conversation. "I used to try and make him breakfast once. It ended with a fire alarm and a very unhappy cook. Guess that's why he doesn't trust your experience."
I didn't say anything and just focused on the toast. The silence that followed was incredibly awkward. For some reason I was still unhappy about the true reason I was kidnapped.
Dante stood there, waiting for me to respond, but I didn't give him the satisfaction. I wasn't here to be his friend, and I certainly wasn't here to play happy family.
Leo looked between us and giggled into his hand, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable his father was.
I took the opportunity to lean in closer to Leo as I plated his food. I kept my voice low so the others couldn't hear. "Leo, why don't you want to eat the nanny’s food? Be honest with me."
Leo’s smile faded instantly. He looked toward the door where the nanny had been, then leaned in toward my ear.
"I suspect her," he whispered.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing really. I just do."
I was so distracted by what he said that I didn't realize how close my hand was to the hot edge of the skillet.
"Ow!" I hissed, pulling my hand back as the metal seared the side of my palm.
"Aria!"
Dante was by my side in a second, grabbing my wrist.
"Let me see," he commanded.
"I'm fine, it's just a..."
"Quiet," he snapped, his voice full of an anger that caught me off guard.
- Writer
