Enzo's Point of View
The familiar knock on my door signaled Rosa's arrival. She was the older staff member who had practically raised both me and Marco."Come in," I replied, my gaze fixed on the window, lost in thought.Rosa peeked in, a tray in her hands. "There you are. I saw you in the garden, looking troubled." She placed a steaming cup of tea on the nightstand and settled beside me."I have a lot on my mind," I admitted, still staring out into the night."I made this tea for you. It will help you relax," she said, breaking my trance as she gently handed me the cup."Goodnight," she added, rising to leave.As I lay in bed, my thoughts swirled chaotically. Rest eluded me, and the image of the woman I had encountered earlier haunted my mind—her hair, her perfectly painted pink lips, her delicate frame…"Gosh," I muttered, a delicious shiver coursing through me at the thought. I wished she were here, in my arms.Looks had never been my weakness, but today, she was a captivating vision. Love? I scoffed at the notion, yet an unfamiliar doubt gnawed at me. Maybe I was falling—an unexpected vulnerability that both frightened and intrigued me. Protecting her, cherishing her—that was the future I craved.But there was an obstacle: my own actions. My initial harshness had stemmed from a clumsy attempt to hide my feelings. Leading the very organization responsible for her abduction wasn't exactly a recipe for romance.Force was one option—the dark path my parents had walked. It was a chilling reminder of what love could become: a prison fueled by fear. My mother was a ghost in my past, a testament to devastating consequences.The urge to see her became a physical ache; her well-being consumed me. Had my pride blinded me? Refusing to offer her the guest room—a foolish attempt to maintain a façade—felt like a grave mistake now. The memory of her injuries propelled me out of bed and toward the door. I texted Marco:
Me: Which room?
Marco: Which room what?
Marco knew how to press my buttons, and he was doing it now.
Me: Don't play games with me.
Marco: The room near your torture chamber.
Me: What the hell? Why did you put her in that room?
Marco: You didn't give me many options. You said no to the guest room. Should I have put her in the torture chamber itself or my room?
I felt irritation bubbling up as I turned off my phone screen and shoved it into my pocket while making my way toward her location.Nearing her room, an unsettling sound pierced the night—muffled screams that sent adrenaline surging through my veins. With sturdy steps, I followed the cries until I reached a brutal tableau: the woman who haunted my thoughts pinned against the wall, her clothes torn, fear etched across her face.A growl escaped my lips. "Get away from her!" My voice roared—a primal response that surged from deep within me. Before reason could intervene, I rounded the corner like a bull seeing red. The weasel of a man facing her froze at the sight of me.Good. Fear was a good start.He didn't stand a chance against me. He crumpled under the force of my blows, whimpers escaping his cracked lips as I unleashed fury upon him. My vision narrowed; every hit was fueled by possessive rage that surprised even me. The air thickened with the metallic tang of blood as my knuckles turned white with each strike until he fell to the ground—almost lifeless.In that frozen moment, clarity washed over me: I was hopelessly under her spell.She whimpered in a corner, tears streaming down her face as different emotions swirled within me—worry, fear, possessive rage, and undeniable tenderness. Here I stood—a kidnapper who had most likely just murdered a man in front of her.Hesitation gnawed at me as I stepped into the dim light and met her wide, terrified eyes. Her lips parted as if forming a wordless plea before she crumpled unconscious.I lunged forward to catch her; the warmth of her body contrasted sharply with the cold logic of the situation.Stefan, my right-hand man, and several of my men burst in—probably drawn by the noise. His eyes held countless questions, but I was in no mood for that.My little dove lay unconscious; I had to take care of her."Clean this up," I barked out urgently. "And get a doctor. Now." The turmoil within me simmered beneath my stern facade.I carried her to my room; surprisingly, her weight felt lighter than expected against my chest.
I called for Rosa and asked her to clean her up and change her into something comfortable. When I returned to the room, she was already tucked under the blankets, her face softened in sleep, the earlier tension and fear slowly fading. Rosa had done her work with a tender care, transforming the room into a place of comfort rather than distress.
I stood there for a moment, silently observing her. There was a quiet warmth to the scene, a fragile peace I hadn't expected.
Guilt gnawed at me; I was no hero—the man who barged into her life only to fail at protecting her. Yet memories of how she clung to me during that fleeting moment sparked an intense protectiveness within me.
The door creaked open as Dr. Brandon entered—the family doctor with weary eyes and a calming demeanor—accompanied by Stefan. He checked her vitals; his silence weighed heavily in the tense atmosphere."She's physically stable," he finally said after what felt like an eternity. "But psychological trauma can manifest in many ways. It's best to give her space and time to heal."Space—the very thing I couldn't offer now that she had ignited this storm of emotions within me. How could I explain how she challenged everything I thought I knew about myself?The doctor's gaze held a knowing glint as he suggested softly, "Perhaps a gentler approach is needed."His words echoed long after he left; gentleness felt foreign yet somehow essential now."Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I muttered angrily while yanking at my hair in frustration. Why did I have to be so stubborn about refusing the guest room? Now Marco had stuck her in that drafty box just because I insisted on it! Did I ever think things through?A curse ripped from my throat: "Damn it all!" The anger twisted painfully in my gut; if that bastard survived this encounter… but right now, all that mattered was her safety.Panic surged as she suddenly threw off the covers and sobbed uncontrollably—my heart hammered painfully in response as guilt twisted with worry inside me."Mom! Mom! Please don't leave me!" she cried out desperately while clinging to my hand."I'm sorry! I love you! Stay with me!" Her words shattered something deep within me—I'd only worsened her pain with my reckless actions.I slipped into bed beside her and gently stroked her cheek while whispering softly, "I'm here, baby; don't be scared—I will always be here for you."I pulled her closer and kissed her forehead tenderly as sobs subsided into quiet hiccups; slowly but surely, she relaxed against me—her grip on my hand loosening slightly before she turned over to wrap an arm possessively around my waist as if seeking comfort in sleep.I found myself grinning like an idiot—happy that she found solace in my touch—and hoped fervently that once she awoke fully aware again, this bond would remain unbroken.