Three Means 1

Game night

Arthur's concern was palpable as he observed her sudden shift in demeanor. Moments earlier, she had been delightfully cheerful and contemplative, yet now she appeared frightened, even remorseful.

    "Dearest, what's the matter?" he asked with earnest worry.

    "Uhm... I seem to have forgotten my bags at your apartment," she stammered, desperately seeking the swiftest excuse.

    "Ah, but Dulce, we can retrieve them lat—"

    "No! I mean, I just remembered I have to uhm..." Dulce hastily interrupted, her mind racing for a plausible reason. She dreaded admitting her reluctance to encounter Angelo, because such a confession would necessitate an unwelcome explanation. Nor did she wish to appear discourteous and ungrateful.

    "I can return another time. You can leave the bags at my apartment," she suggested. But as she turned to leave, she collided with a solid form. Looking up, her eyes met Angelo's. Her heart pounded erratically, and her thoughts scattered.

    "Princess," he addressed her with a disarming familiarity. She attempted to brush past him, but his grip on her arm was firm.

    "What are you doing?" he murmured, his voice low to evade Arthur's notice.

    "I am leaving," Dulce replied, her body immobile under his hold, yet her patience wearing thin.

He let go of her.

    "We will talk at the apartment." With that, he disappeared into the bakery.

    Arthur remained at Dulce's side, his silence laden with unasked questions. He sensed an undercurrent of unease.

    "Do not trouble yourself over the bags; I will attend to it later," he assured her before taking his leave.

    Once back at her own room, Dulce sank wearily onto her bed, discarding her sandals. Though she longed for a refreshing shower, exhaustion overtook her, and she succumbed to sleep. Hours slipped away unnoticed. Upon awakening, she quickly shed her dress, wrapping a towel about her before heading to the bathroom.

    The gentle sound of the twins' laughter filtered through the cascade of water, a noise that elicited a roll of her eyes. Their presence meant a confrontation was inevitable. Lingering under the soothing stream for as long as possible, she finally conceded and turned off the water, bracing herself for the encounter ahead.

She wrapped a towel around her body and slowly opened the door. As she ventured into the hallway, her peripheral vision caught Angelo in the kitchen. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing he would remain silent, but alas, her wish was in vain.

"Dulce!" he called out. She was determined to just confront him once and for all but what he asked was something that left her flustered.

    "Why were you out with Arthur?"

    "Pardon?" Dulce replied, her voice tinged with disbelief.

    "He mentioned you both attended the cinema together," Angelo elaborated, as he flipped the dough sizzling in the pan.

    "Well, that is none of your concern," she retorted, her eyes flicking to Pierre, who stood silently in the doorway separating the kitchen and the dining room. He offered her a polite smile but refrained from comment.

"It is indeed my concern, because it means you're going out with him," Angelo stated, his tone possessive. This assertion surprised and angered Dulce.

    "And what if I am? I may have as many partners as I want, and it would still be none of your business, Angelo."

    Pierre discreetly left the room, perhaps not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, especially after Dulce's stern warning on the stairs. Angelo, in a swift motion, turned off the stove, set down the spatula, and approached her with an urgency that made her heart race. His hand encircled her neck gently, while his other hand tugged her hair, forcing her to meet his intense gaze.