Page 9 of The Enforcer's Brat

Enzo slid into a chair, wrapping his hands around the steaming mug. He watched Matteo move around the kitchen, trying to gauge the older man's mood. The air between them felt charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

Finally, Matteo set a plate in front of Enzo – pancakes, bacon, and eggs – before taking the seat opposite with his own breakfast. For a few minutes, they ate in silence, the only sound the clink of cutlery on plates.

"So," Enzo said, unable to bear the quiet any longer. "Are we going to talk about last night, or...?"

Matteo looked up, his steel-gray eyes unreadable. "Finish your breakfast first. Then we'll talk."

The rest of the meal passed in tense silence. Enzo's mind raced, imagining all the possible punishments Matteo might have in store. By the time he'd cleaned his plate, his nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

Matteo stood, gathering the dishes. "Living room," he said. "Five minutes."

Enzo nodded, retreating to the couch. He perched on the edge, leg bouncing nervously as he waited. When Matteo finally joined him, settling into an armchair with leonine grace, Enzo felt like he might vibrate out of his skin.

"Alright," Matteo said, his voice calm but firm. "Let's talk about what happened last night."

Enzo opened his mouth, a snarky retort on the tip of his tongue, but Matteo held up a hand.

"No. You're going to listen first. Then you can have your say."

Chastened, Enzo nodded.

"What you did last night was reckless, irresponsible, and dangerous," Matteo began. "You disabled a state-of-the-art security system, snuck out in the middle of the night, and put yourself at risk. All for what? A cup of coffee and a misguided sense of rebellion?"

Enzo felt his face heat with shame and anger. "It wasn't like that," he muttered.

"Then explain it to me," Matteo said, leaning forward. "Help me understand why you thought it was worth risking your life for a late-night snack run."

Enzo ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up. "You don't get it. This whole situation – being locked up, cut off from my friends, my life – it's suffocating. I needed to prove to myself that I could still... I don't know, make my own choices?"

Matteo's expression softened slightly. "I understand that this is difficult for you, Enzo. But my job is to keep you safe, even if that means protecting you from yourself sometimes."

"I don't need protecting," Enzo snapped, old defenses rising. "I can take care of myself."

Matteo raised an eyebrow. "Can you? Because from where I'm sitting, you've done a piss-poor job of it so far. The Bianchi incident, your reckless behavior at clubs, last night's little adventure – it all points to someone who doesn't have the first clue about self-preservation."

The words stung, hitting too close to home. Enzo stood abruptly, pacing the room. "You don't know anything about me," he spat. "You're just some hired muscle my father brought in to keep his fuck-up son in line."

In a flash, Matteo was on his feet, crowding into Enzo's space. "You're right," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't know you. But I know your type. Spoiled, entitled brats who think the world owes them something. Who've never had to face real consequences for their actions."

Enzo's breath caught, anger and something darker, hotter, coiling in his gut. "Oh yeah?" he challenged, tilting his chin up defiantly. "And what are you going to do about it, old man? Ground me?"

For a moment, Matteo just stared at him, his eyes dark with an emotion Enzo couldn't quite name. Then, without warning, he grabbed Enzo's wrist, spinning him around and pinning him face-first against the wall.

"What I should do," Matteo growled, his breath hot on Enzo's ear, "is put you over my knee and teach you what real discipline feels like."

Enzo's heart raced, his body responding traitorously to Matteo's proximity. "You wouldn't dare," he gasped, even as a part of him thrilled at the idea.

Matteo's chuckle was dark and full of promise. "Don't test me, brat. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

For a long moment, they stayed like that, frozen in a tableau of dominance and submission. Enzo could feel the heat of Matteo's body pressed against his back, the strength in the hand pinning his wrist. He should have been scared, should have been fighting to get away. Instead, all he felt was a dizzying mix of arousal and anticipation.

Finally, Matteo stepped back, releasing Enzo. When Enzo turned to face him, Matteo's expression was carefully neutral once more.

"Here's how this is going to work," Matteo said, his voice back to its usual controlled tone. "You're on lockdown for the next week. No phone, no internet, no leaving the house. You'll train with me every day – self-defense, physical conditioning, the works. And you'll start learning about your family's business."

Enzo blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. "What? Why?"

"Because knowledge is power," Matteo said simply. "And the more you understand about the world you're a part of, the better equipped you'll be to survive in it."

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