A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

thirty two

Maeve

I know two things for certain. The first, is I am sick of staring at the walls of my bedroom. The second and most important is I am fucking starving. I really needed to find another way to gloat besides skipping meals. I hadn't eaten anything all day and my stomach was starting to eat itself, or so it felt like it.

It was well after midnight, the manor eerily quiet as I make my way downstairs. Irina was probably sick of me ransacking her kitchen during all hours of the night. As I open the refrigerator my eyes immediately land on a untouched plate of food with a note that reads my name in Irina's scrawling print. I could kiss her right now. I mentally make a note to do as such in the morning.

I stick the plate in the microwave and start rifling through drawers looking for utensils. Once my food is heated, I sit on a stool at the bar and inhale the contents on the plate. I don't even know what the hell I'm eating, but it tastes amazing and I finish it off in no time. After all but licking my plate clean, I go over to the sink and rinse my dirty dishes, using a towel to dry them. Irina was kind enough to leave a plate for me, the least I could do was wash it to save her the trouble in the morning.

I reach to turn the water off, but my movements halt as I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I don't need to turn around to know that he's standing right behind me. I can all but sense him like an animal can sense danger.

I pretend to not notice his daunting presence and continue my efforts of cleaning the dishes. I glance up, my eyes meeting his from the reflection of the window.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch me like some stalker?" I bite out, still refusing to turn around.

"You did accuse me of being a creep the first night we met." He counters. I hate how deep and sexy his voice is. I also hate the way my body instantly reacts to being near him.

"That's because you were." I concede.

"Have you always had a habit of eating meals in the middle of the night?"

"You tell me. You seem to know everything about me." I spit at him.

"I only know surface level shit about you. Things people would know if they paid an once of attention to you."

I whip around. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Was he trying to say that I was shallow?

"It means." He straightens and takes a small step towards me. He's still wearing one of his suits, but his undershirt has been pulled out. It's unbuttoned all the way, revealing the hardened plains of his abdomen and smooth chest. I avert my eyes away, afraid that if I stare too long I'd get sidetracked. "You don't allow people to see past that pretty face. You keep all the good stuff hidden."

"Just because I don't feel obligated to tell you all my secrets doesn't mean that I haven't trusted others with them. Trust is not given, it's earned." I bite back.

He looms nearer, until he's almost standing directly in front of me. Almost immediately the intoxicating smell of him infiltrates my senses. He smells like sweat and alcohol with a tinge of something sweet smelling. Perfume. A shearing pain slices through my heart at the realization.

"I never said to trust me." He says, his voice a low drawl.

"Where have you been? You smell like alcohol and cheap whores." I seethe.

The corners of his mouth draw up. A sexy smirk overtaking over his features. He cocks his head to the side. "Oh little rabbit. I don't have to pay women to have sex with me. They beg me for it." He purrs.

"So you're admitting that you slept with someone tonight?" I can't help the way my throat squeezes at the thought.

He grins, his gray eyes dancing with mirth.