Fatal Alliances [✓]

41

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

MALIA

"YOU CAN HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT."

"How about a Birkin?"

"Come on, it's already in the vault."

"Can you fly us out to your family home in Greece?"

"Anywhere in the world, dio."

I almost lost all composure.

Mateo had accompanied me to the city the following afternoon after receiving Jeffry's unsettling call last night. His atonement must have gone beyond grovelling, my favourite macarons and an exquisitely expensive, diamond bracelet that belonged to his mother.

He parted from me with the news that he had been secretly paying my rent and had put a down payment down on a property that was in the Upper East side, if I was interested in simply taking a look at it, as he was planning on sticking around in the States for a short period.

But the real surprise was his luxury black card —which I stared at in awe as he pressed a kiss to my cheek and left, with it sandwiched in between my hands.

His surprises didn't end there though —as prior to setting out of the apartment, he'd treated me to breakfast in bed. I had dropped my jaw in surprise when I'd set my eyes on the tray filled with a stack of the most perfect pancakes and berries.

"As hard as I get seeing that tongue of yours licking syrup off your lips, you're going to need to eat a little quicker than that. I have to leave soon." He'd told me, amused.

"You learnt how to make pancakes." I had arched my brow, sheets draped around me up to my neck as I licked the sweet honey drizzle off my lips, watching him pull on a pair of sweatpants that I had handed him after he had realised he didn't have any pressed formal wear here.

"I didn't know what else to do when I got out," He shrugged, "Romi said it was therapeutic to try my hand at cooking, since most nights I was reliving the torture that was inflicted on me —so you bet your ass I learnt how to cook different things. It was all I could do to stop using up all my energy on my rage."

"Really?" I smiled at him goofily, face aching with how wide my grin was. "What exactly have you learnt to make then?"

"Pizza," He told me, climbing onto the bed inch by inch. "Pasta too. Pretty much all the things you liked to eat."

"I even did a little chocolate tasting."

"Without me?" I feigned a gasp, "How could you eat chocolate without me?"

"I'm not sorry." A look of amusement made way to his face and my heartbeats slowed a little, because when he smiled at me — it was real and it was soft, which contrasted with his rough exterior and the front he put up for most of the world. "I tried many flavours, though none as good as dark chocolate."