Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

13| Danger

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Danger

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Chapter 13: Danger (Zarah's POV)

My nose scrunched up and pure annoyance coursed through me in a flash at the loud and chaotic sound of a blender whirring somewhere around me. I knew I was a light sleeper but the sound of that monster-blender would even wake up Sleeping Beauty.

Groaning, I pulled the covers over my head and tried my best to drown out the noise but when it was turned up another notch, I was left with no choice. I kicked the blanket off in frustration and opened my eyes, glancing around once briefly and remembering that I was in the Devil's den. Standing up with a sigh and a glare in the kitchen's direction, I adjusted my camisole and pulled my hair back into a bun as I approached the kitchen, spotting Logan with his back to me. I stood on one side of the island and folded my arms across my chest, shooting daggers into the back of his head until he turned the blender off and grabbed a glass.

"Glaring at someone doesn't earn you any rewards, Ms. Romano."

"I didn't know you had eyes in the back of your head. Why are you wreaking havoc at..." I glanced around, spotting a clock. "Seven in the morning," I finished as he turned to me, pouring out the fresh green smoothie into a glass for himself.

"Because this is my house. I can wreak havoc whenever I please," he smirked. "Smoothie?"

"What is it made of? Can't be sugar, spice, and everything nice."

"Can't forget Chemical X," he said, sliding the glass over to me and then taking another one for himself.

I watched him, warily taking a seat. "Did you just make a reference to Power Puff Girls?"

He ignored my question. I let him. "You're free to go home now. Your stalkers left."

"How do you know?"

"I checked with the building staff and then myself on my way back from my run. You're safe, Princess," he deadpanned, sitting across from me.

"Don't call me Princess," I scoffed, "I—"

"Hate it, I know. All the more reason for me to do it, Draga," he smirked, leaning back and opening a drawer, bringing out a metal straw, and tossing it to me.

I barely caught it before dropping it into the glass and hesitantly taking a sip. The surprise must have shown on my face because Logan snickered. I expected it to be a muddy, gross, bitter green smoothie, but instead it was deliciously sweet with a hint of apples in it. I exhaled, meeting his gaze and reluctantly, forcing the words out of my mouth. "Thank you for letting me stay last night."

"You didn't give me much of choice, more so just passed out on my couch."

"Yet you were generous enough to lend me a blanket," I said, feigning shock.

"Figured you would get cold," he replied, standing up and leaving his empty glass in the sink. My

eyes followed him as he moved around the kitchen, cleaning up and fixing every little thing like the neat freak he was yet pretended not to be. It wasn't hard to gather that Logan Markov was a perfectionist.