Alek

Chapter 15: Mae Kazimi

Chapter 15: Mae Kazimi

"I'll spare your fingers if you tell me who poisoned Alek," I say in a low voice, fingers expertly chopping the carrots on the hardwood, each chop harder than the last. "It will be a secret just between the two of us."

"Signorina, spare me, please," says the old cook and I can feel her body shake beside me. "I swear I don't know."

Liar.

I stand in the large Russo mansion kitchen. Ten minutes ago I'd secretly slipped into the kitchen after following the cook around for a while. I'd tried to get as much information as I could off of her, but there was nothing strange about her. But if she hadn't been the one to poison Alek, who could've possibly done it?

And so, I approached her. After all, it's the least suspicious who are always the culprits.

"You have five minutes, old woman," I say under my breath as I bring down the knife and make her jump. "My patience is running thin."

The cook swallows and her fingers shake as she slides the carrots off the board and into a plate. I watch her slowly head to the fridge, taking my time to take in the beautiful kitchen and drink in its beauty. It's horribly polished and clean, every surface spotless and sparkling. The long black table sits in the dining room with chairs that look like thrones. All the kitchen surfaces are a shiny black marble and silver metal that glint under the low chandeliers above, the floor glittering ebony.

I turn my attention back to the cook as she begins to clean off the counter, putting dishes away in the dishwasher and wiping the top with a wet cloth.

"Two minutes," I remind her and point to the clock. "Time's ticking."

The cook says nothing, eyes cast downwards as she tosses the rag into the garbage and tries to slip out of the kitchen.

I pull out my knife, slamming its hilt inches away from where her fingers are on the kitchen's counter, "Speak."

"Stepmother," she rasps, hand jumping straight to her heart. "Please, I-"

"Get out of here," is all I say, head shaking in disappointment. I'm not surprised. "And keep this between us."

The cook bows, making me blink. She wipes a tear from her eye and rushes out of the kitchen as fast as she can, her small apron flying behind her.

I stay where I am, back faced to the cupboards and hand still on the hilt of my knife against the counter. I'm breathing hard, eyes narrowed at a spot on the wall that I don't even realize that there's someone behind me until they speak.

"Stop attacking my cook," says Alek a little breathlessly. "She puts food in your mouth."

"The food your father pays for," I say immediately. I'm in a horrible mood and seeing him isn't improving it. "I thought you were dying."

There's a long pause.

"I was."

I turn around, dropping my knife and leaning on the counter. Across from me, Alek is shirtless with only loose black pants hanging low on his hips. I take a moment to admire his back, drinking in the smooth skin and his broad shoulders. I let my eyes follow the tattoo that is etched on his skin, lips slightly apart.

Can a man's back possibly be this attractive or am I hallucinating?

"Are you done staring?" he asks without turning around, his voice rough.

I blink.

He doesn't say anything when I don't reply and continues to do whatever he's doing with his back turned to me. I frown, curiosity taking the better of me and I make my way towards him.