The Dinner Table

The dining room was bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. Mateo was already seated at the head of the table, his sleeves rolled up, focused on pouring a deep red Rioja into a crystal glass. He didn't look up as they entered; he simply waited for the air to change, which it did the moment Ariana stepped into the room.

"We’re back!" Cami announced, sliding into her chair. "The Plaza was gorgeous, Dad. You really should have come."

Mateo finally lifted his gaze, his eyes skipping over his daughter to lock onto Ariana. "I had things to attend to, Camila. I see Ariana has managed to find something a bit more... understated to wear."

Ariana sat down, her movements stiff. "I thought it was best."

"It’s practical," Mateo murmured, taking a slow sip of his wine. "It allows one to focus on what matters without unnecessary distractions."

"Oh, speaking of distractions!" Cami reached for the breadbasket, completely oblivious to the daggers being thrown across the table. "We ran into Dr. Moreno at the Plaza. He’s so sweet, Dad. He said you already fixed Ari’s schedule for January. That was so thoughtful of you."

The sound of Mateo’s glass hitting the table was sharp. "Moreno," he repeated, the name sounding like a threat. "And what else did Dr. Moreno have to say for himself?"

"He offered to show Ari the 'local spots' once she's settled," Cami teased, nudging Ariana. "I think he was definitely flirting. He couldn't take his eyes off her."

The air in the room suddenly felt twenty degrees colder. Mateo leaned forward, his jaw set in a hard, rigid line. "Moreno is a resident. He should focus on his sutures, not his social life. Ariana will be far too busy settling into this house to worry about 'local spots' with a boy who hasn't even finished his fellowship."

"I'm sure he was just being polite," Ariana interjected, her heart racing.

"I don't value politeness, Ariana. I value focus." Mateo’s dark eyes were unreadable. "And since you are moving in tomorrow, your focus belongs here. Is that understood?"

"Dad, relax! You're scaring her," Cami laughed, though she looked a bit confused by his intensity. "She’s my friend, not a prisoner. She can have a drink with a coworker if she wants."

"Can she?" Mateo’s lips curled into a shadow of a smile. "I think Ariana understands the nature of her position here perfectly. Don't you, Nina?"

The use of the nickname—the one from the hallway—made Ariana’s fork clatter against the china.

"I understand," Ariana whispered.

"Good." Mateo signaled to the maid. "Because we have much to discuss tonight. Camila, you have that holiday party at the club tonight, don't you?"

"Oh! Yes! I totally forgot," Cami gasped. "Ari, you should come!"

"No," Mateo said. The authority was absolute. "Ariana needs to stay here. She has things to organize before the movers arrive at dawn.

"But—" Cami started.

"Camila. Go to your party," Mateo commanded. "I will handle Ariana personally tonight."

Cami sighed, looking at Ariana with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, babe. When he gets like this, there's no arguing. I'll bring you back some dessert?"

"I'll be fine, Cami," Ariana said, though her skin was buzzing with dread.

An hour later, the front door closed with a heavy thud. Cami was gone. The house fell into a silence so profound it felt like the walls were leaning in. Ariana stood in the foyer, intending to bolt for the stairs.

"The library, Ariana. Now."

Mateo was standing in the doorway of the dining room, a fresh glass of wine in his hand. He walked toward her, stopping just inches away.

"I thought I should go pack," she whispered.

"You're not going anywhere." Mateo reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric over her ribs. "Tell me... was it Moreno’s flirting that got you so worked up at the Plaza, or was it the thought of being left alone with me?"

He stepped closer, pinning her against the banister. "Let's go to the library. I want to see exactly how much of your mind I occupied today while you were out with my daughter."