Chapter 9 WHAT EXACTLY IS VINCENZO DOING HERE?
~ELENA~
“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me with that cold look on your face, or will you tell me why you're here?” I ask, finally tired of the staring competition.
His eyes darkened. He's wearing a white shirt and black trousers.
“You're coming with me” he finally says.
I blink.
“Excuse me??”
“Dad wants us to drop off some papers downtown. Nico is sleeping. Riccardo is out” he pauses, eyes flicking over me. “You're the only one left.”
This explains why he's here.
I am right after all.
He doesn't want to be here.
He's forced by his dad.
This explains the expressions on his face.
“Right, of course,” I mutter. “Because I'm just…convenient.”
He doesn't answer. Just turns on his heels and walks down the hall like I'll follow. And annoyingly, I do.
The car ride is quiet. Tense. Charged.
He doesn't play music.
He doesn't look at me.
He drives like everything is under his control. Including me.
“Do you ever relax?” I ask finally.
His jaw tenses. “Why?”
“You just seem…wound up” I reply.
He glances at me briefly, like he's trying to decide if I'm worth answering.
*Wound up keeps people alive” he finally says.
My brows knit together.
“That's a heavy thing to say,” I tell him.
“I don't do small talks, Elena” he reply.
“Then maybe try big talk. Like why you treat me like I'm some problem. Like why you hate me.” I blurt out.
He exhales through his nose, sharp.
“I don't hate you. And I don't treat you like some problem. I treat you like a distraction” he says.
I blink.
“Wow, that's…”
“Not an insult,” He cuts in. “Just the truth.”
We stop at a red light. His hand tightens around the steering wheel.
“You don't belong in this house” he says quietly. “It's not safe here.”
“Safe from what?” I ask.
He doesn't answer.
The lights turn green. We keep driving.
But my heart is still frozen back there.
Later, when we return, I step out of the car first. I don't wait for him.
I'm halfway up the stairs when I hear him behind me.
“You should stay away from Nico,” he says.
I turn slowly.
“Why??”
His eyes darken. “He doesn't hold back.”
“Maybe I don't want him to” I shoot back.
We lock eyes. The tension between us is so sharp it could cut glass.
Then he turns and walks away.
And I hate that I'm still shaking from it.
Later at night, I can't sleep.
A storm rolls in, dark clouds swallowing the sky, thunder cracking in the distance.
I suddenly feel like reading an intense romantic novel and I remember Nico talked about a library in the house.
I head downstairs because I remember seeing something like a library while looking for the gym this morning.
I hear voices coming from the west wing.
I follow them until I reach the library.
The door is slightly open.
I don't knock.
I step inside.
And find Vincenzo.
Alone.
Who was he talking to then??
The storm outside casts flickering shadows across the room. He's at the fireplace, tossing a match into the logs.
Flames boom, casting golden light over his sharp features.
“Were you following me??” He asks, without turning around.
“Maybe” I say honestly, remembering how I traced his voice to this place.
“Maybe not” I add when I remember I was looking for the library.
He finally turns.
He's wearing a black shirt this time. Barefoot. Sleeves rolled up. Shadows under his eyes.
“You shouldn't be in here” he murmurs.
“You say that about everywhere I go” I reply.
He doesn't smile. He just walks to the shelves, grabs a book, flips through it absently.
I lean against the wall and don't know when I blurt out.
“You've seen me somewhere outside this house, right??”
They echo in the quiet room like a challenge.
He stops flipping.
His shoulders tense like I just pulled a trigger.
“I don't get you,” he says slowly. “Why do you ask?”
I take a step forward.
“Because I feel you've seen me somewhere, maybe that's why you've been avoiding me” I reply.
He shuts the book. Too calmly. Place it back on the shelf.
“You're imagining things” he tells me.
“I'm not,” I say. “You've been weird with me since day one. Cold. Distant. Like you're avoiding something or someone.”
He turns to face me, jaw tight. “You're wrong. I've never seen you before outside this house.”
The lie sits heavy in the air between us.
“You're a terrible liar,” I whisper.
I'm now sure that it's him and not Riccardo or Nico.
They'd have spilled it out if it's them.
Most especially Nico.
“Why won't you just admit it?” I ask him.
“Because there's nothing to admit,” he growls. “You're reading too much into things.”
I watch him closely.
“So you didn't meet a girl at the club some days ago? You didn't make out with her in the VIP room and vanish like a damn ghost?”
He stares at me like I've slapped him.
“You've got the wrong guy,” he says aftera beat, his voice low, measured.
I shake my head slowly. “I don't think I do.”
“Elena, leave,” he says again, this time firmer.
He crosses the room, opens the door, and gestures out.
“Leave. Now!”
“No, I won't,” I retort.
“Why??” He asks.
“Because I came here to read a book” I reply stubbornly.
“Well, that won't be possible tonight. Or rather, you take the book you want and go read it in your room” he tells me.
“I choose to read it here,” I say defiantly.
“Don't dare me, Elena,” he says, voice cold and tense. “Now, leave.”
I hesitate.
The same storm outside crashes louder against the windows, as if waiting with bated breath.
His eyes darken and his jaw tenses.
“I asked you to leave. Leave already” he says, voice like ice.
I feel hurt.
My chest tightens, but I start to turn toward the door.
From his actions, it's clear he's hiding something or avoiding something.
But what exactly is it???
What exactly is Vincenzo hiding??
