Bottom's Up To The Mafia Boss (MXM Novel)

Chapter Sixteen: A Starving Man

"Come in," Fen barked, his eyebrows slashing downwards in an ominous expression.

He did not seem pleased with the interruption and the scorching glance he shot at me told me a promising tale. He seemed unaware of how radiant he looked, his pale skin flushed with both alcohol and the tantalizing moment we shared, and his voice was raspy but harsh as Leroy entered the room, his sharp eyes noting the empty decanter and observing Fen's irritated expression.

"Sir, it is done," he told Fen in a vague tone, his eyes sliding towards my direction.

Fen gave him a short nod as if to dismiss him but Leroy stood still, his arms folded behind him. Leroy eyed me from the corner of his eyes, before dropping his gaze to the carpet.

"Dinner will be ready the moment you say so, Sir. Are you interested in hearing the menu tonight?"

"Not now. Text me the menu and I will call on you later," Fen snapped, waving his hand at him as if to shoo him off.

I perked up at the thought of food, my stomach starting to grumble. As if Fen heard it, he peered at me, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening. Leroy remained on standby, his eyes moving between me and Fen.

"Leroy, wait," Fen muttered. "What do you have ready now?"

"Feijoada, with a side of yucca fries, collard greens or passarinho. We have the usual appetizers for today as well."

"Today's menu is all Brazilian?"

"Yes, Sir."

Fen focused his eyes back on me. "How do you feel about pão de queijo and coxinha de frango?"

"I'm down," I answered, beaming at him.

Fen stared at me for a beat, before looking at Leroy and nodding silently. Without a word, Leroy left the room, the door closing behind him swiftly and leaving Fen and I alone once more.

The cumbersome silence ensued as we eyed each other closely. It was the type of silence that was filled with unspeakable tension, gauging each other like two alleycats battling for their own territory, except the territory we were currently waging over was slightly different.

Who will speak first? Who will make the first move?

The implication of who would make the first move weighed heavily on both of us and it would be the moment where everything can change in a heartbeat. I opened my mouth to speak but Fen was faster.

"After dinner, would you like to have a drink with me?"

"I thought we were having drinks now," I pointed out, unable to hide my amused smirk.

"The drinks are done here," Fen started with a dismissive wave of his hand, directing his unblinking stare at me.

"You are correct," I answered, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "What do you have in mind?"

"Since we are eating Brazilian cuisine, I figure we can indulge in some caipirinhas or homemade sangrias," he murmured, his velvety voice growing husky.

He looked slightly distracted, even with his unwavering gaze on my face. It didn't take much for me to guess the possible things he was thinking about, not when the tips of his ears had gone bright red, his pale hands tensing and untensing atop the desk. He was practically at the edge of his seat, his entire body completely still as if he was prepared to make his ultimate move.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I teased, cocking my head to the side questioningly.

His eyes widened imperceptibly as if he was caught red-handed, then narrowed at the innocent expression on my face. He mirrored my relaxed stance, his head tilting to the side.