Page 8 of The Enforcer's Brat

But Matteo just leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't test me, brat. You won't like the consequences."

A shiver ran down Enzo's spine, equal parts fear and excitement. He opened his mouth to retort, but the look in Matteo's eyes made him think better of it. Grudgingly, he stood, tossing some bills on the table.

The ride back to the safe house was tense, the silence heavy with unspoken words. Enzo could feel Matteo's anger radiating off him in waves. He knew he should feel guilty, should be worried about the punishment that was surely coming. Instead, all he felt was a perverse thrill at having gotten under the older man's skin.

As soon as they were inside, Matteo rounded on him. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snarled, backing Enzo against the wall. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

Enzo lifted his chin defiantly. "I was thinking that I'm not some prisoner you can keep locked up. I'm a grown man, Matteo. I can take care of myself."

"Can you?" Matteo's voice was quiet now, but no less intense. "Because from where I'm standing, you're acting like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum."

The words stung, more than Enzo wanted to admit. "Fuck you," he spat. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough," Matteo countered. "I know you're reckless, impulsive, and too damn pretty for your own good. I know you think you're invincible, that the rules don't apply to you. And I know that attitude is going to get you killed if you don't wise up."

Enzo blinked, caught off guard by the 'pretty' comment. Had Matteo really just said that? "I?—"

"No," Matteo cut him off. "You don't get to talk right now. You're going to listen, and you're going to listen good. This isn't a game, Enzo. There are people out there who want you dead. My job is to keep that from happening, even if it means protecting you from your own stupidity."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot on Enzo's cheek. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to go upstairs, and you're going to stay in your room until I say otherwise. No phone, no computer, no contact with the outside world. And in the morning, we're going to have a long talk about consequences. Understand?"

Enzo wanted to argue, wanted to push back against Matteo's authority. But something in the older man's eyes – a mix of anger, concern, and something darker that made Enzo's pulse quicken – stopped him.

"Fine," he muttered, looking away.

Matteo stepped back, giving Enzo space to move. "Go. Now."

As Enzo climbed the stairs, he could feel Matteo's eyes on him. The weight of that gaze sent a shiver down his spine, a confusing mix of resentment and arousal churning in his gut.

Once in his room, Enzo flopped onto the bed with a frustrated groan. He'd fucked up, he knew that. But a part of him couldn't help but feel a thrill at having provoked such a strong reaction from the usually stoic Matteo.

As he drifted off to sleep, Enzo's last thoughts were of steel-gray eyes and strong hands. He dreamed of those hands on his body, of Matteo's voice in his ear, growling about consequences and punishments that had nothing to do with being grounded.

When morning came, Enzo woke with a start, his body flushed and his heart racing. The dream lingered, vivid images of Matteo pinning him down, of rough hands and bruising kisses. He groaned, pressing the heel of his hand against his aching cock.

A knock at the door made him jump. "Breakfast in ten," Matteo's voice called. "Don't make me come get you."

Enzo flopped back onto the pillows, torn between arousal and dread. Whatever consequences Matteo had in mind, Enzo had a feeling they were going to test his self-control in ways he wasn't prepared for.

As he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, Enzo couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and he'd fall, plummeting into unknown depths.

The scary part was, he wasn't sure he wanted to step back from the edge. Maybe, just maybe, the fall would be worth it.

With a deep breath, Enzo squared his shoulders and headed downstairs to face the music. Whatever Matteo had in store for him, he'd face it head-on. He was Enzo fucking Ricci, after all. He didn't back down from a challenge.

Even if that challenge came in the form of a devastatingly handsome bodyguard with eyes that saw too much and hands that promised both punishment and pleasure.

Game on, Matteo, Enzo thought as he descended the stairs. Let's see what you've got.

CHAPTER 4

THE ENFORCER ARRIVES

Enzo's bare feet padded softly on the wooden stairs as he made his way down to the kitchen. The smell of coffee and bacon wafted up to meet him, making his stomach growl despite his apprehension. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath to steel himself for whatever Matteo had in store.

The kitchen was bathed in early morning sunlight, giving it an almost peaceful air that belied the tension Enzo could feel thrumming through his body. Matteo stood at the stove, his broad back to Enzo, muscles shifting beneath his fitted t-shirt as he flipped pancakes with practiced ease.

"Sit," Matteo said without turning around, his voice gruff but not angry. "Coffee's on the table."

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