Twisted Paradise

Chapter 29

"Now, Lilithe, please cut these carrots and cucumbers into thin stripes for me."

She scowled at the too-patient tone. In his defence, she kept messing up every job he gave her - truly if it were anyone else they'd have kicked her out of the kitchen already.

Why was she in a position that was hopelessly out of her range of competence, you ask? She'd like to ask Blaise that question. If his cook really did take a day off, couldn't he just order takeout? And if he was really that bent in eating healthy, well he could cook all by himself, why drag her into this mess?

And even more importantly, why had she agreed?

She focused on chopping the vegetables, one carrot at a time, instead of the answer. Once she was finally done with one, she glanced at him with a proud look on her face, only to see a strain on that ever-present patient look.

"Oh I'm sorry. Too slow for you?" She snapped.

His lips twitched with suppressed laughter. "We don't want all the water to evaporate, right?" He pointed towards the stove.

She gritted her teeth. "Next time, just freaking order takeouts!"

One hour later, the food was finally ready. Not before she endured all of Blaise's soft sighs. She really wanted to hit that ungrateful bastard in the head.

She watched him pack some of the food and send it off with someone. At her inquiring look, he said, "Mom loves these. I was sending some to her."

Her annoyance softened at the reminder of Violette. That one time she met the woman was enough for Lily to have a high opinion of her. Such a sunny disposition, only a mind so resilient could have kept it so.

She worried her bottom lip as she pondered on the pros and cons of asking him the questions that had bugged her since she knew him.

"What put that expression on your face?" Her eyes went to him, head resting on his hand in a languid pose.

"I was just wondering if I should ask, if it's something I'm allowed to ask someone," she started. When it came to topics such as these, bombs set off in unexpected places, she would know.

"Hesitation does not suit you, Lilithe. Fire away."

"Your father," she blurted out. "Will you tell me what happened?"

She was aware there was very little to be gained from this question. So what if he killed his dad? So what if he didn't? He'd already made it clear his father was behind Violette's trauma.

She didn't even know why she asked him that, why she wanted him to tell her exactly what happened in his past, why he would even want to tell her.

But she wanted. She wanted to know. Rather, she wanted him to share with her. Something no one else was privy to.

She inwardly mocked herself. What was this sentimental bullshit she was falling into? She wanted him to confide in her? How was that productive in any way, except driving them both towards that road, that road she kept avoiding.

His eyes gathered coldness. Even as he appeared more at ease than ever. Deceptively friendly. The man in front of her was dangerous.

"It occurs to me that you know me so well but I hardly know you. I don't like that imbalance."

"You already know much more than anyone else, Lilithe." His voice was soft, surprising her.

"And I'd like to know more," she told him. "You asked me to trust you, Blaise. Well I can't trust someone I know barely anything about."