Breakfast with Enemies
1276 Words
Aleena POV
El slips into my room like she owns the morning.
“Wake up. You need to get ready. Breakfast with your in-laws.”
Her voice is sugar, but it cuts through the haze anyway.
I peel one eye open, lids heavy like last night never ended. I frowned into my pillow.
“Five more minutes,” I groan.
“Seriously, Ale.” Her tone sharpens. “You need to do everything in your power to win Nico.”
Win Nico.
The lie tastes bitter. I told her I had feelings for him.
I push myself upright.
El’s already in my wardrobe, pulling out options like a stylist on a deadline. She tosses the best one onto the bed. She looks flawless, of course, an ivory blouse, charcoal high-waisted trousers, low heels. Polished. Controlled. Ready for war disguised as brunch.
“Move it, Ale.”
I stare at her, surprised by the steel in her voice. She smirks, unapologetic.
“I’m not sorry for snapping. We barely have time. And I heard there’s going to be an unwanted guest.” El said “I need you looking your best. You need to outshine her.”
“Who?” I ask, though I already feel the answer crawling under my skin.
“Anastasia.” She grimaces like the name leaves an unpleasant taste.
“She shouldn’t even be welcomed here,” I mutter. “I heard Angelo Bellini isn’t fond of her. Isn’t her family the enemy?”
“I don’t know the details, sister. I just know she’ll be there.” She exhales. “And I need your fiancé looking at you. I’m sure she’ll bring her A-game.”
The urge to roll my eyes burns behind them. If only she knew. This engagement isn’t about love. It’s leverage. It’s protection. It’s me trading my freedom so she can keep hers finish college, get a job, escape our father without strings attached.
“Alee. You’re spacing out.”
Her voice snaps me back.
“I’ll freshen up,” I say, forcing a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring my A-game.”
She studies me for a second too long before finally nodding. She wants to believe I’m excited. I let her.
The bathroom steam fogs the mirror as the city hums outside.
I step out of the shower. The outfit waits on the bed: a dusty silk-rose satin blouse, white tailored trousers, a sleek belt, low heels. Soft colors. Dangerous elegance.
Hair down. Minimal makeup.
“Oh, you look cute, sis.” El smiles as she re-enters the room, eyes sweeping over me like she’s inspecting armor before battle.
I step into the hallway.
Zane is there in a white T-shirt, black jeans, the same uniform he always wears. No stiff black suit. No polished bodyguard cliché. Just quiet danger wrapped in casual. His blue eyes lock onto mine, intense enough to make my pulse stutter.
For a second, something flickers there.
Then it’s gone.
He schools his expression before I can read it.
He falls into step behind me. Close enough to protect. Far enough to pretend its nothing.
El slips her hand into mine as we walk.
“Sis,” she whispers, low and urgent, “don’t let Anastasia win over your father-in-law. Or any of them. If you want to win your husband-to-be, you must win his family first.”
I couldn’t care less about them. About any of this.
But I nod anyway.
Her phone dings. She pauses, and I stop with her.
“What is it?” I ask.
She hesitates. “I’m going back to university. I need to catch a flight to Boston, like, now. I have an assignment with my friends. Before the holiday’s over.”
Boston.
The word hits colder than it should.
A sharp pang blooms in my chest. “So that’s it?” I try to keep my voice steady. “I can’t even hold you hostage for one more day? We barely talked.”
“Hey,” she softens. “We’ll catch up soon. I promise.”
She pulls me into a hug. I breathe her in like. I’m storing the moment. Like I won’t get another.
“I heard you’re going back.”
Nico’s voice slides in smoothly.
He’s watching me. Not her.
His green eyes drag me over, taking in the silk blouse, the tailored trousers. The glint of emotions quickly disappears.
“Oh, yes,” El says lightly. “I wish I could stay here with my sis.”
“The chauffeur will take you to the airport, Elenor,” Nico says smoothly.
“Thank you.” She nods, then looks at him pointedly. “You better take care of my sister.”
“Yes. I will.” His tone is calm.
Minutes later, I watch her suitcase disappear into the trunk. She waves once before getting in. I wave back, forcing a smile. The car pulls away.
“Aleena. Let’s go.”
Nico’s hand settles at the small of my back. Warmth from his fingers spread through my body.
“Zane, you don’t have to follow,” Nico says without looking at him.
“I have orders to stay with Ms. Caruso at all times,” Zane replies, her voice cold as steel.
Nico frowns but lets it go.
“Nico!”
That sugary, grating voice cuts through the driveway.
Anastasia glides toward us, heels sharp, dress tailored within an inch of sin, smile polished for war. Nico’s jaw tightens.
“You seriously came to the Bellini house?” he mutters. “Are you out of your mind?”
“What?” she replies sweetly. “Your family invited me to breakfast.”
Her eyes dropped to Nico’s hand on my back.
Before I can react, his arm wraps fully around my waist. I stiffen, startled. He glances down at me, with a silent command.
Play along.
I relax against him, just enough.
Anastasia’s eyes burn.
“Good to have you here, Anastasia,” I say smoothly. “We shouldn’t keep everyone waiting.”
“Yes,” Nico murmurs, his grip firm as we walk inside.
The dining room is already full.
Long table. Crystal glasses. Power sits in every chair.
Nico pulled my chair out for me. Everyone's eyes were on me.
Angelo Bellini sits at the head, unreadable. Beside him, his new wife, Daniella, had perfect posture, a colder smile. Her children were sitting in the same line at the table.
Ava studies me with open suspicion.
Romeo doesn’t bother hiding his stare. His hazel eyes held mine. It lingers too long. I don’t like it.
Hade glances at me, but his attention drifts to Anastasia, who watches Nico in subtle, hungry glances.
We met once. At the engagement party.
This feels different.
“Who invited Anastasia?” Nico asks flatly.
“I did,” Daniella replied.
“You know she isn’t part of our alliance.”
“Relax,” Angelo says calmly. “Your mother believes expanding our alliances sooner rather than later would be wise.”
His gaze shifts to me.
A message without words:
If the Caruso family steps out of line, we have options.
Nico’s face turns to stone.
“Why does the Caruso bodyguard look like he expects us to hurt his brother’s fiancée?” Ava asks, frowning.
Silence stretches.
“Yes,” I said before I could stop myself. “You never know what can happen.”
The room stills.
Damn it.
Every pair of eyes back on me.
“You think the Bellini are tyrants?” Angelo’s voice drops, cold enough to frost the glass.
- Writer
