Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 55

**Chapter 55: Food and Fun**

**Aurora’s POV**

As we sink into the familiar embrace of the car, I can feel the anticipation bubbling beneath the surface, a mixture of gratitude and curiosity swirling within me. I watch Jace as he turns the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a satisfying growl. The hum of the vehicle feels like the heartbeat of our day spent together, and I can’t help but steal a glance at him, my heart fluttering with warmth.

“Thanks. For today,” I say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that envelops us like a cozy blanket.

He shrugs in response, a casual gesture that seems to downplay the significance of what we just shared. “No problemo, muchacho,” he replies, a playful smirk lighting up his features. I can’t help but mirror his grin, feeling a spark of connection. “You’re not as scary as I thought.”

He lets out a snort that’s filled with mock pride, his chest puffing out slightly. “Wow, I’m glowing with pride here.”

But just as I think we’re heading home, he suddenly swerves into a drive-thru lane, catching me completely off guard.

“Uh—what are you doing?” I ask, blinking in surprise, my mind racing with possibilities.

“Feeding us,” he states matter-of-factly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You can’t be expected to survive on my gourmet cereal alone.”

I shake my head slightly, a hint of reluctance creeping into my voice. “I’m not hungry, though.”

“It’s a whisper of a confession,” I think, almost an afterthought.

“Well, I’m starved,” he asserts, his tone suddenly serious. “And if I don’t get food soon, I’m going to perish.”

A familiar tug of hesitation pulls at me, memories of my past flickering through my mind like an old film reel. Years of feeling deprived have left my relationship with food complicated, to say the least.

“Fine… I’ll get something,” I concede, the words slipping out before I can fully process them.

His grin is triumphant, almost victorious, as he places an order that can only be described as ludicrous—enough food to feed a small army. I watch in disbelief as the cashier repeats the order back, and Jace quips, “Yeah, we’re very hungry toddlers. Don’t judge us.”

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