The afternoon sun streamed through the grand windows, bathing the dining hall in a warm golden glow. The table was elegantly set, a silent promise of the lunch she had been expecting, though Elena wasn't sure if she had truly been expecting Lorenzo.
Still, her eyes flickered toward the empty chair at the head of the table, the one that should have been occupied by Lorenzo. She told herself she didn't care.
He hadn't made any explicit promises, leaving her uncertain about his intentions.
Wasn't he the one who insisted she join him for meals? Yet now, without explanation, he was absent.
Elena sighed, pushing the thought away as she tried to convince herself there were more important matters to deal with.
"Nana," she began carefully as the older woman set a plate before her.
"Hmm?"
"When do I start working?" Elena asked as she looked at Nana.
The warm smile on Nana's face faltered for just a second before returning, as if she hadn't heard properly.
Elena frowned. "I mean, I do have to pay off my family's debt, don't I? So when do I start?"
Nana hesitated, arranging a napkin that didn't need arranging.
"The young master will decide that," she finally said, her tone light but firm. "He assigns all the work in this house."
Elena's grip tightened around her fork but she still continued and said, "But you're the one in control of all the servants and work here."
Nana continued to arrange the plate and then sighed when Elena's stare became unbearable. "Although, I'm the head of all servants here and have the authority to take control when Lorenzo and Mateo are not around, I still do not have the ability to assign you work."
"And you're not a servant, Elena. Not even to the young master"
Each time she asked, the response was the same.
Only he could decide.
How could she work off her debt when he didn't even tell her what to do? The question lingered in her mind, fueling her frustration.
She would ask him the next time she saw him, she would demand an answer.
---
Days passed, and still, Lorenzo hadn't assigned her anything.
At first, the lack of responsibility made her restless. She wanted to work—needed to. She hated feeling like a caged bird, lingering in a house she didn't belong to, waiting for orders that never came.
But as time stretched on, she found herself settling into a strange rhythm.
She spent her mornings with Nana, listening to the older woman's endless stories while helping in the garden. Although, Nana wasn't particularly skilled, she found peace in the act of pressing her fingers into the soil, of watching tiny blooms unfurl under the sunlight.
It felt… normal and felt like home.
Maybe that was why she didn't miss her real home as much as she thought she would.
And then there was him.
Lorenzo.
He had started speaking to her more. Not like he does it often, and not for long, but the change was undeniable.
He asked about her favorite things, her favorite color, her favorite music, and her favorite foods. But when she answer, something strange would happen.
His expression would flicker, like he had expected something else, like her words had unsettled him.
And then, the next day, he would take her somewhere. Sometimes to a café with her favorite desserts, to a bookstore with all the novels she used to love. Even to a quiet place with a view so breathtaking she forgot to be wary of him for just a moment.
And each time, she would catch him watching her, not with his usual cold expression neither was his gaze full of warmth. He just keep… watching. As if waiting for something.
As if she were supposed to remember something.
Although all this confuses her, Elena wasn't stupid. She knew he was expecting something from her.
But what?
---
Lorenzo was a contradiction, a blend of warmth and authority that kept her guessing.
One moment, he was speaking gently, almost considerate. The next, his voice carried the same icy authority he had when she first arrived.
She never knew which version of him she would get.
The warmth or the cold.
She began to suspect he enjoyed keeping her confused, a thought that unsettled her.
Like now.
"You hate strawberries?" Lorenzo's voice was unreadable as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked onto her.
Elena blinked at the sudden change in topic.
"Uh, yes?"
She wasn't sure why that seemed to bother him.
Lorenzo's jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment before exhaling sharply.
"I see."
And that was it.
No further comment.
But his expression had darkened slightly, as if she had unknowingly said something offensive.
Elena frowned wondering what was wrong with him?
He asked these questions like they mattered, but then when she gave an answer, he acted like it was the wrong one.
And the worst part?
She was starting to care about his reaction.
---
That night, Elena lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Being with Lorenzo was like being on a battle field even when they were not interacting with each other.
And yet, her mind wouldn't let her rest.
Because no matter how much she tried to ignore it, she felt the tension between them.
This push and pull.
The way Lorenzo's moods swung like a pendulum, unpredictable and sharp-edged.
The way he watched her as if she was supposed to do something, as if she was some puzzle he was trying to solve.
And the way her own heart betrayed her every time he looked at her like that.
Was this some kind of game to him?
Was he toying with her?
Or...
Was there something deeper beneath the surface, something only her was unaware of?
Something she couldn't see yet?
Elena exhaled, turning on her side.
Whatever it was, she wasn't going to let it affect her. She would figure out what he wanted and she would protect herself in the process because if she wasn't careful…
She might just lose herself in this madman's game.