Enzo's pov
As I paced back and forth in my room, an exasperated sigh escaped my lips. Today, I'd hoped to find a sense of peace in the mansion—maybe even some solitude. But my father seemed hell-bent on pressing me to take on a personal maid. The idea itself was aggravating; I never needed someone trailing after me, constantly invading my space.
After leaving my father's study, I caught fragments of his orders as he instructed someone to deliver food to a specific room. Oddly enough, the tone in his voice held an unfamiliar warmth, almost as if he was worried. My father—showing care? It made no sense. I had to know who exactly was receiving this special attention.
