But then… How was he supposed to get the answer to his question?
Celia frowned slightly as he walked.
Someone like Alessandro would never just hand him answers so easily. The man barely spoke unless he wanted to, and even then every word felt like it carried some hidden meaning behind it.
Celia exhaled quietly through his nose. No… he probably would never get the truth from that bastard.
Still… His eyes hardened a little and he knew he would ask anyway.
Even if the man ignored him. Even if he mocked him for it. Celia needed to know. And the only person who could give him that answer was the very man he despised.
So he would ask.
Even if it meant looking straight into the eyes of the monster sitting at that dinner table. And maybe… just maybe… Alessandro might answer.
Celia clenched his fists quietly at his sides.
"Relax," Cas suddenly said without turning around.
Celia blinked. "What?"
"You're breathing too loudly," Cas replied calmly as they continued walking down the corridor. "If you're this nervous already, dinner might kill you before the boss does."
Celia frowned slightly at that, his brows pulling together. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, he just looked away and kept walking.
A few seconds later, Cas stopped.
They had arrived in front of a large double door, dark polished wood stretching almost to the high ceiling.
Two guards stood on each side like statues, their expressions blank, their posture rigid. They didn't even glance at Celia, but somehow he still felt their attention on him.
One of the guards stepped forward and pushed the door open the moment they approached.
Cas moved aside and gestured toward the entrance.
"Go in."
Celia stared at the doorway for a second. The warm light from inside spilled into the hallway, stretching across the floor and touching his feet.
His chest rose slowly.
Then he exhaled. Without another word, he stepped forward and walked inside.
The dining room was enormous.
Soft golden lights hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the polished floor. A long dining table stretched through the center of the room, covered with fine plates and silverware arranged with perfect precision.
Celia's eyes slowly moved across the room. Then they stopped at Alessandro who was already seated at the head of the table.
Alessandro gestured toward the chair across from him.
"Sit."
Celia hesitated for a brief moment before pulling the chair out and sitting down. The seat felt too comfortable, too soft for someone in his situation.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Alessandro reached for the small silver bell resting near his plate and rang it once.
The sound was soft, but it echoed clearly in the large dining room. Almost immediately, the doors opened.
Several servants walked in silently, carrying trays of food. Their movements were smooth and practiced as they placed the dishes carefully on the table.
The aroma filled the room with warm bread, roasted meat, and rich sauces.
Celia's stomach betrayed him instantly. It let out a loud, embarrassing grumble.
He froze for a second. Alessandro's eyebrow lifted slightly.
Celia looked away immediately, pretending not to notice. His ears burned faintly with embarrassment.
The servants finished placing the dishes down and stepped away from the table.
Without saying a word, they left the room again, closing the doors behind them. Now it was just the two of them.
Silence settled over the dining room once more. Celia stared at the food for a second. His pride told him to ignore it… but his stomach strongly disagreed.
Finally, he picked up the fork.
If Alessandro wanted to watch him eat, then fine. Celia dug in, eating without looking at him, pretending the man sitting across from him didn't exist.
But he could still feel it.
That heavy, unmoving gaze. Alessandro hadn't touched his food.
He simply watched Celia eat. Like a man observing something he had just acquired.
Celia kept his eyes on his plate, chewing slowly, refusing to give Alessandro the satisfaction of seeing him uncomfortable.
But the longer the silence stretched, the harder it became to ignore.
Because Alessandro was still watching. And somehow… that was far more unsettling than any threat.
"You know," Alessandro said casually, "you do look like a squirrel while eating."
Only then did he pick up his fork and begin slicing into the roasted meat on his plate as if the comment meant nothing.
Celia's head snapped up.
He stared at Alessandro with an irritated glare, his brows knitting together.
Don't make me ignore this food, he thought bitterly.
But the irritation of being watched had already ruined the moment. His appetite faded, and he slowly stopped eating, the fork resting halfway in his hand.
Alessandro noticed immediately. He paused, setting his fork down.
"Why did you stop eating?" he asked, his voice calm but curious.
Celia didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached for the glass of water beside his plate and took a slow drink, buying himself a few seconds.
Then he set the glass down.
"Because you keep staring like you've never seen someone eat before," he said flatly.
Alessandro nodded slowly, as if accepting the accusation without offense.
"Seems I've been caught," he replied.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "I enjoy watching my things."
Celia's jaw tightened at the word.
"My things."
Alessandro leaned back slightly in his chair, his dark eyes still fixed on him.
"Now start eating," he added calmly.
"Unless you prefer starving out of pride."
He picked up his fork again and resumed cutting into his meat like the conversation was already over.
But his gaze never truly left Celia.
Celia, as stubborn as he was, refused to eat at first.
Instead, he just sat there staring at Alessandro.
His eyes drifted over Alessandro's sharp jaw, calm expression, and effortless poise, like a model, yet a shark drowning people in debt.
The thought made his lips press into a thin line. Across the table, Alessandro noticed.
Seeing that Celia still hadn't touched his food, he let out a quiet sigh. He dropped his fork onto the plate with a soft clink and lifted his glass instead, taking a slow sip of wine.
"Tell me something," Alessandro said calmly.
Celia looked up.
"Why did you point the gun at me?"
There was no expression on Alessandro's face when he asked the question. His tone was so casual it almost sounded like he was asking about the weather.
But Celia's mind immediately started racing. Why is he asking that now? Was this another test? Another trap?
Celia swallowed the irritation sitting in his throat.
"I did it because that was the only way to get my family out," he said honestly.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Celia picked up his fork and started eating again, almost unconsciously. His stomach had been empty all day, and the smell of the food was too tempting to ignore any longer.
Alessandro watched him quietly for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"But you knew you wouldn't have survived that, right?" he asked.
The smirk on his face was small… but unmistakable. Celia's chewing slowed.
He raised his eyes again, meeting Alessandro's gaze across the table. For a second, neither of them spoke. The tension between them felt heavier than the food on the table.
And then, as if shattering the fragile calm, the dining room doors burst open. Cas stepped inside, eyes wide with urgency. He stopped beside Celia's chair, leaning slightly forward.
"Boss," he said, voice low but tense, "I'm afraid… we tried to restrain him from coming here, but he wouldn't listen, and he shot one of the boys."
Celia's fork froze mid-air. His heart skipped a beat.