Chapter 24
“You’re smoking again?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him to walk away.
“Mila.” He was standing right over me at the door.
Right now, I felt like a child being scolded after getting caught.
“Love?” His tone was softer now, making me feel guilty. I didn’t even know the story behind those cigarette marks, yet I felt a guilt I had never experienced before.
“I’m sorry.” I zipped my bag and stood up, pulling the strap over my shoulder. “I’ll leave.” I didn’t look at him as I tried to pass him.
Killian extended his arm to stop me, and I finally looked at him. He was staring straight ahead before turning to me. “Why don’t you clean up a bit and
meet me back at the lunch table? You should eat something,” he said, his tone soft, his eyes tender.
I didn’t know what to say–something about the way he said it struck me. I didn’t remember anyone ever saying that to me like this. It was a stark contrast to Adeline’s fake smile that morning. I could see that he couldn’t come closer–I must have smelled like cigarettes. I nodded, and he put down his arm, slipping his hands back into his pockets.
“I can take you back to the office. You can use the washroom there.”
“I can go by myself,” I said, walking away, but once again, he grabbed my wrist. I stopped and turned to look at him.
“What?” I asked.
He looked at me for a moment, the corner of his lips curving. “Be quick.”
“Hm.”
He let go, and I entered the office, putting my bag back. I washed my face and mouth. Looking at myself in the mirror, I saw water dripping from my eyelashes down my face. I looked pale and worn out. I didn’t know what to do with the person waiting for me outside.
In front of me, he was… sweet. Could I truly associate that word with him? What I knew of him and how he treated me were in complete contrast. Everything about this man pulled me in two different directions, and I seemed to have no grasp over my thoughts when I was with him.
I dried my face, rubbed my eyes, and pressed my temples. Thinking about how he had been all afternoon, I felt embarrassed for losing control of my emotions. I put the face towel away on the counter beside the sink and let out a tired sigh.
I returned to the lunch table, feeling more composed and calm. The table was set, and Killian was waiting, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the view outside the balcony. I stopped a few feet away, and the sight in front of me made my heart ache in a strange way.
The rugged, sharp jawline that usually looked imposing appeared softer in the late afternoon light as it reflected off his white shirt. His lightly colored lips held a ghost of a smile, his thoughts seeming far away.
This was the same man who had admitted just thirty minutes ago that he had murdered someone in cold blood. Yet, he was also the man who thought! might need to eat something–who overlooked something that clearly bothered him.
All the secrets of the world were at my fingertips, yet I couldn’t figure out this man. And the most forbidding thought of all? That when I did, I would never be able to pull away.
The realization shook me, and I walked toward him. He immediately looked up upon hearing my footsteps, a smile appearing on his face. I looked down, clearing my throat as heat rose to my cheeks. But since I had looked so pale in the mirror earlier, maybe it just added a bit of healthy color to my face.
I pulled out my chair and sat down before he could get up from his.
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Chapter 24
He settled back.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
I nodded. My lips still felt dry, so I reached for the water, but before I could, Killian had already placed a glass in front of me. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Still mad at me?”
“Does it matter?” I asked. “Are you going to go on another killing spree on my behalf?”
“The Andersons are safe.”
“As long as they don’t hurt me,” I stated.
“As long as they don’t hurt you,” he agreed, the darkness in his eyes deepening as he tilted his head slightly, a half–dry smile on his face.
What should I feel at that statement–assured or wary? I ended up feeling both.
While lunch was served, we ate in comfortable silence. I looked at him again, seeing a man who appeared casual, handsome, and lethal all at once. It was in complete contrast to how he had been at the beach house during dinner with the Andersons.
He didn’t look like he was about to drain the very life force from the air around us as he ate. This simple, ordinary moment–him just eating–seemed
fascinating.
Maybe he noticed my lack of movement. His fork stopped midair, and his eyes met mine.
I immediately looked away, scoffing at myself. What the hell was I thinking? What was wrong with me?
“Is it not to your liking?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” I answered.
“You never told me.”
“Told you what?” I asked.
“Your favorite food. Your favorite color.”
I couldn’t hold back a laugh. I put down my fork and reached for my glass of water, taking a moment to compose myself. In truth, no one had ever asked me that before. I set the glass down.
“Forgive me,” I said, pressing my lips together to suppress my amusement. “I just didn’t expect you to ask that.”
I picked up a napkin and wiped the corner of my mouth, carefully setting it aside.
“What did you expect me to ask?” he inquired.
“Not that.”
When I looked back at him, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers laced together, his mouth partially covered. His eyes watched me, waiting.
“You really want me to answer that?” I asked, a bit taken aback.
“It’s a simple question.”
Small, seemingly insignificant moments–like eating what you like or choosing what to eat on a whim. How long had it been since I got to eat whatever I wanted? A sense of self–pity filled me.
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I shook my head and smiled sadly. I wanted to find a genuine answer. What had I liked to eat before I became an Anderson? The truth was a little had.
I sighed before answering. “Anything edible is fine. I don’t make a fuss about it. Adeline has this strict diet plan at home?
“You follow a diet plan your stepmother set, but you smoke?”
I heard the ridicule and curiosity in his voice.
I chuckled dryly and nodded. “Yeah. It’s easy to let someone believe they control small aspects of your life. It gives them a false sense of security. And nobody cares if I smoke. It’d probably be better for them if I just died on my own.”
I had joked about the last part, but the honesty in my answer surprised even me. At this rate, I might as well sell my soul to the devil. But my last words turned Killian’s gaze to frost and fury.
I cleared my throat. “I’m joking, I’m joking! Don’t look so serious,” I said nervously.
“Don’t ever joke about your life. And you should quit,” he said, his intense gaze narrowing.
“You should know by now–no one can control me unless I let them,” I replied, relaxing back in my chair, tilting my head slightly, a smile playing on my
lips.
Unless I let them. Or unless it serves me.
