Amelia's heart pounded as she sat by the fire, watching Enzo from the corner of her eye. His strong frame moved with a calmness that felt out of place after the chaos of the night. She could still hear the faint echo of gunshots in her mind and feel the rush of the escape. But now, sitting in this secluded house, the atmosphere shifted into something else something darker, heavier, and laced with an unspoken tension.
She couldn't shake the memory of Enzo's shirt soaked with blood. She had seen it earlier when he had taken off his jacket. And now, as he leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes locked on her, she could tell something had changed.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, her voice small but edged with defiance.
Enzo pushed off the wall, moving closer to her with slow, deliberate steps. His lips curved into a smirk, one that made her pulse quicken.