Captured by the King

Chapter 9- The Game we play

The next day came and went without much fanfare. Lorenzo kept to his usual routine—phone calls, meetings, more phone calls. I spent most of the day wandering around the house, restless, wondering when this supposed "training" was going to start. He hadn't said much since our conversation last night, and I wasn't sure if I had pushed him too far. Maybe he was regretting letting me in on everything.

By evening, the tension between us had thawed a bit. Dinner was quiet but not uncomfortable, a far cry from the icy stares and short words we'd exchanged in the past few weeks. I could tell Lorenzo was mulling something over, but I wasn't about to press him. If he was going to train me or teach me how to survive this life, I needed to let him set the pace. I wasn't in a rush—yet.

After dinner, Lorenzo stood up and glanced toward the living room. "Come with me," he said, his voice casual but with a hint of something more.

I followed him into the living room, where he went straight to the bar cart in the corner, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. He poured two glasses, neat, and handed one to me without a word.

I took the glass, raising an eyebrow. "What's this for?"

He shrugged, sitting down on the couch. "Consider it part of your training. You want to know how to survive in my world? You're going to need a lot more than just guts. You need to know how to keep your cool, how to read people. And sometimes, that means drinking when you don't feel like it."

I sat down across from him, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "You think I can't handle it?"

He gave me a small smirk. "I think you're tougher than most people give you credit for. But we'll see."

I took a sip, the burn of the whiskey sliding down my throat. I wasn't used to it—definitely not like this—but I wasn't going to let him see that. We sat in silence for a moment, the air between us heavy with things left unsaid.

"I have an idea," I said suddenly, the thought popping into my head. "Let's make a game out of it."

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "A game?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling a strange burst of confidence. "A drinking game. We take turns asking each other questions, and if you don't want to answer, you take a drink."

He looked at me for a long moment, clearly surprised by the suggestion. Then, to my surprise, he nodded. "Alright. But I'm not going easy on you."

I grinned, feeling a spark of excitement. This was the first time in weeks that we'd had anything close to a normal conversation, and if it took a drinking game to make that happen, so be it.

"You first," I said, leaning back into the couch.

Lorenzo swirled his drink, his gaze thoughtful. "Okay. Why didn't you tell me about Giovanni's men right away?"

I bit my lip, feeling the weight of the question. "I didn't want you to think I couldn't handle myself. I thought I could deal with it on my own."

He nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Fair enough."

I thought for a moment before asking my own question. "Why did you leave school? The real reason."

Lorenzo's face darkened slightly, but he didn't hesitate. "I left because school was a distraction. Things were getting messy at home, and I didn't have the luxury of being a kid anymore. I had to step up."

I watched him carefully, sensing that there was more to the story, but I didn't push. Not yet. I took another sip of my drink, the whiskey burning a little less this time.

"Alright, your turn," I said, trying to keep the mood light.

Lorenzo leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine. "Why do you want to be involved in this world so badly? You've seen how dangerous it is."