Page 7 of The Enforcer's Brat

"So," Enzo said, pushing his empty plate away. "These rules. Let me guess—no fun allowed?"

Matteo's eyes narrowed slightly. "This isn't a game, Enzo. Your life is in danger. The rules are there to keep you safe."

"Safe and miserable," Enzo muttered.

Matteo ignored the comment. "Rule one: You don't leave the house without me. Period. Rule two: No contact with anyone outside of a pre-approved list. That means no social media, no unauthorized phone calls or texts."

Enzo's jaw clenched. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Rule three," Matteo continued as if Enzo hadn't spoken. "You do what I say, when I say it. No arguments, no backtalk."

"And if I don't?" Enzo challenged, leaning forward. "What are you gonna do, spank me?"

He meant it as a joke, a way to throw Matteo off balance. But the look that flashed in the older man's eyes – dark and hungry – made Enzo's breath catch.

"Don't tempt me," Matteo growled, his voice low and dangerous.

For a moment, they stared at each other, the air between them charged with something Enzo couldn't quite name. Then Matteo stood abruptly, breaking the tension.

"It's been a long day," he said, his voice back to its usual calm. "Get some rest. We start training tomorrow."

"Training?" Enzo asked, thrown by the sudden change of subject.

Matteo nodded. "Self-defense, mostly. If you're going to be a target, you need to know how to protect yourself."

With that, he left the kitchen, leaving Enzo alone with his thoughts and a simmering frustration that had little to do with his confinement.

Later that night, Enzo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep eluded him, his mind racing with plans and possibilities. He needed to get out, if only for a few hours. To prove to himself that he wasn't completely under Matteo's control.

Around 2 AM, he made his move. Dressed in dark clothes, he crept down the stairs, carefully avoiding the spots he'd noticed creaked earlier. The security system was top-notch, but Enzo had grown up around this kind of tech. It took him less than five minutes to disable the alarms on the back door.

As he slipped out into the cool night air, Enzo felt a rush of exhilaration. He was free. sort of. He knew he couldn't go far – Matteo would notice he was gone sooner rather than later. But there was a 24-hour diner a few blocks away. He could grab a coffee, maybe flirt with a cute waiter, pretend for a little while that his life wasn't spiraling out of control.

The diner was nearly empty when Enzo arrived, just a couple of truckers nursing cups of coffee at the counter. He slid into a booth, ordering a coffee and a slice of pie from a tired-looking waitress.

As he sipped his coffee, Enzo pulled out his phone. He'd managed to swipe it back from Matteo earlier, knowing the older man had probably put some kind of tracking software on it. But Enzo was smart – he'd disabled the GPS and was using a secure messaging app to contact Luca.

"Made it out," he typed. "Any news on G?"

Luca's reply came almost immediately. "Jesus, Zo. You trying to get yourself killed? And yeah, G's safe. Can't say more. Be careful, bro."

Enzo smiled, relieved to know Giulia was okay. He was about to reply when a shadow fell across his table.

"You know," a familiar voice rumbled, "when I said no leaving the house, I meant it."

Enzo's head snapped up, his heart sinking. Matteo loomed over him, looking impossibly put-together for 3 AM. His expression was thunderous.

"How did you—" Enzo started, then shook his head. "Never mind. I needed some air."

"Air," Matteo repeated flatly. "At 3 in the morning. In a diner."

Enzo lifted his chin defiantly. "Yes. Problem?"

Matteo's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. "Get up. We're leaving. Now."

"Make me," Enzo challenged, knowing he was pushing his luck but unable to stop himself.

For a moment, he thought Matteo might actually do it – might grab him and throw him over his shoulder like some kind of caveman. The mental image was... not entirely unpleasant.

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