Family dinner

‎‎The dining room smelled like rosemary and gun oil.

‎Elias had already seen several cameras between the front door and the dining room. Multiple guards lined up.

‎There was no way he could leave without Alessio knowing. He stood behind Alessio’s chair.

‎His hands clasped, suddenly Alessio pulled his wrist, sitting him down on a chair.

‎The document was gone, Alessio had already slid it into his pocket without checking.

‎Elias could still feel where it had been hidden, though there was nothing there now. Nothing except Alessio’s eyes on him, as though he were still searching for something else Elias might be hiding.

‎“Elias sits with me,” Alessio said. His voice was flat.

‎"Alessio, he isn't family,“ Aunt Marisol mentioned with a sharp tone.

‎Alessio adjusted his cuffs without saying anything.

‎Vito Moretti cleared his throat. Aunt Marisol looked at towards him trying to say something, his cold face made Aunt Marisol's words die in her throat before he glanced at Alessio.

‎Aunt Marisol who had just been glared at by Vito mumbled low grudgingly.

‎The doors slid open and several chefs walked in with fancy plates on trays, placing it down before leaving quietly.

‎Dinner started quietly, soft clinks of spoon and knives.

‎Roman sat directly across from Alessio. Two seats apart, yet it felt like inches. He hadn't stopped smiling since they walked in.

‎“Father,” Roman's voice broke the silence, cutting into a piece of steak he had no intention of eating, “is it company policy now to bring our pets to dinner?”

‎The word hit the table like a dropped glass.

‎Alessio's knife paused.

‎“Elias is staff.”

‎“Staff doesn't get private car rides to the estate.” Roman's eyes slid to Elias. “Staff doesn't make you reschedule a two o'clock meeting either.”

‎Elias kept his breathing even. He didn't understand. Mrs. Cheng was a client.

‎Why was Roman bringing it up?

‎Alessio set his knife down. Not making a sound

‎“You've been reading my schedule, brother?”

‎“I read what concerns me.” Roman finally looked at Alessio. “And your accountant concerns me.”

‎Aunt Marisol choked on her wine. Uncle Carlo stopped chewing. Even Vito's fork paused for half a second.

‎The tension felt like a wire pulled taut, one twist away from snapping.

‎Elias felt it on his skin. He shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

‎“I don’t recall asking for your opinion on my staff,” Alessio said. His tone was mild, but his knuckles were white around his glass.

‎“You didn’t.” Roman leaned back, one eyebrow raised. “But then, you didn’t ask for my opinion when you started giving him access to files above his clearance, either.”

‎Elias’s head snapped up before he could stop it. Files? He filed things. But he didn't have access to anything beyond calendars and coffee orders.

‎Alessio went still. “What are you implying?”

‎“I’m not implying.” Roman picked up his wine. “I’m stating. My accountant is gone, Alessio. Fired. This morning. And suddenly yours is standing here at family dinner.”

‎The room went cold.

‎Elias couldn’t breathe.

‎I had nothing to do with it.

‎I didn't even know Roman had an accountant.

‎“He’s not replacing anyone,” Alessio said, his voice sharp.

‎“No?” Roman took a sip of his wine. “Then why does Father think he’s competent enough to sit in on briefings?”

‎Elias’s vision swam. Briefings?

‎He’d never been in a briefing. He only took notes outside of closed doors.

‎“Enough.” Vito’s voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. The table froze. “Eat.”

‎Everyone obeyed. Knives scraped porcelain. Ice clinked against glasses. But nobody tasted the food.

‎Roman obeyed. But his eyes didn’t leave Elias. Not once.

‎Every time Elias shifted his weight, Roman’s gaze followed. When Elias reached for the water pitcher to refill Alessio’s glass, Roman’s fingers drummed once against the table.

‎Alessio noticed.

‎“Elias.” Alessio didn’t look up from his plate.

‎“Sit closer.”

‎"Sir—"

‎"Don't make me repeat myself“

‎Elias shifted a little closer. His arm was now almost touching Alessio’s arm.

‎Roman’s smile sharpened. “Possessive tonight, brother?”

‎“Protective,” Alessio corrected. “There’s a difference.”

‎“Is there?” Roman tilted his head. “Because from here it looks like you’re afraid someone else will touch what’s yours.”

‎Alessio’s chair scraped back an inch. A warning.

‎Vito sighed. “Romano. Basta.”

‎Roman raised his hands in mock surrender. But his eyes promised it wasn’t over.

‎The rest of dinner was war by silverware.

‎Roman asked Elias to pass the salt. Alessio intercepted it.

‎Roman asked about the quarterly reports. Alessio answered before Elias could open his mouth.

‎Roman asked Elias if he liked the wine.

‎Elias made the mistake of answering.

‎“I don’t drink on duty, sir.”

‎“Smart,” Roman said. “Loyalty and restraint. Rare qualities.”

‎Alessio’s hand clasped the back of Elias’s thigh. Hidden beneath the table. A claim.

‎“He’s not on the menu, Roman.”

‎“I wasn’t ordering.”

‎“You were looking.”

‎The conversation around them had died. Aunt Marisol stared at her plate. Uncle Carlo suddenly found his napkin fascinating.

‎Acid climbed the back of Elias's throat. He didn’t understand why they were fighting. He was nothing. An accountant who’d almost been caught with something he shouldn’t have. Why was he the problem?

‎His hands trembled. He clenched them tightly.

‎“I need to use the restroom,” he said. His voice came out quieter than intended.

‎Alessio’s gripped his wrist before releasing it.

‎“Be quick.”

‎Roman didn’t say anything. His gaze followed Elias as he walked away.

‎The hallway was cold. Too quiet. Elias counted his steps. Stepping into the bathroom. He locked the door, turned on the faucet, and braced his hands on the sink.

‎The man in the mirror barely looked like him. Pale. Hollow-eyed.

‎Why was Roman acting like Elias had taken something from him? Why was Alessio acting like Roman would?

‎Alessio had the document. Whatever it was, it was in Alessio’s pocket now. So why did Elias still feel hunted?

‎The door handle turned.

‎Elias’s head whipped towards the door. He was sure he had locked it.

‎The handle turned anyway.

‎The door opened.

‎Roman stepped inside and closed it behind him. Click.

‎Elias moved back. “What are you doing?.”

‎Roman didn’t come closer. He didn’t need to. He filled the room just by existing.

‎“You left dinner.”

‎“I—” Elias swallowed. “I needed a moment.”

‎“From him.” Roman said with a faint smile.

‎“Everything seems to begin and end with Alessio.”

‎Elias frowned. "He's my employer.“

‎Roman studied him for a long second.

‎"Is that what he told you.“

‎Elias stomach tightened.

‎"I don't know what you're talking about.“

‎"No.“ Roman's smile deepened. "I don't think you do.“

‎He took another step cornering Elias to the sink.

‎"What exactly did my brother promise you?“

‎"A job.“

‎"And what did it cost?“

‎Elias silence was enough answer.

‎"So... he forced your hand.“

‎Before Elias could answer, Roman chuckled softly.

‎"Interesting.“

‎"What is?“

‎"You.“

‎"I've done nothing.“

‎"That's exactly is what's interesting.“

‎“You still think you have a choice, don't you?"

‎Roman took a step forward. Elias took one step back. His spine hit the sink.

‎“You should have signed the contract when you had the chance,” Roman said. His voice was lower now. "My brother doesn't collect people without a reason.“

‎Elias’s hands tightened on the porcelain sink. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

‎Roman’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “You do now. You just haven’t accepted it.”

‎He moved again, blocking the way. His body stood between Elias and the door.

‎Elias’s pulse hammered in his throat.

‎“Let me out.”

‎“Why?” Roman tilted his head, then leaned closer.

‎"You think Alessio protects people.“

‎Roman laughed.

‎"Interesting.“

‎“I’m not—”

‎The bathroom door barged open. Both heads turned.

‎Alessio tall figure stood there.

‎He hadn’t knocked. He simply opened the door, as though he owned every doorway Elias walked through.

‎His eyes moved from Roman, to Elias caged against the sink, then to the door that should have been locked.

‎His face didn’t change.

‎That only made Elias more uneasy.

‎The air went out of the room.

‎Roman didn’t move. He didn’t look guilty. He looked satisfied. Like this was exactly what he wanted.

‎Alessio’s gaze dropped to Elias. There wasn't a trace of anger on his face. No question. But his clenched fists said otherwise.

‎Alessio looked at Roman.

‎Roman's lips curled into a smirk.

‎Nobody spoke.

‎Alessio's jaw was clenched.

‎"Out.“

‎Roman's smile only widened.

‎"Make me.“

‎