Promises and Shadows

Chapter 3

After devouring my banana, I decided a nap was in order.

But before that, safety is important so I locked the door and windows, checking twice whether it was properly locked.

Two hours later, I woke up feeling a bit more human but still slightly disoriented.

I creaked open my room door, cautiously peeking out for any lurking dangers. To my surprise, the only threat was two enormous suitcases sitting right by the door. Great, I had officially moved in and was now being threatened by my own luggage.

With a Herculean effort, I dragged those monsters into my room and unpacked my essentials, finally changing into my comfiest outfit and breathing in ease. Because, let’s face it, when you’re living with a stranger who might also be a husband, comfort is key!

I ventured out in search of Victor and his little fluff ball sidekick, but they were nowhere to be found. So, I decided to explore this house which is way more cosier than my own.

Wow! This place was stunning—like something out of a home improvement show. This place is filled with wooden furniture, comfy couches with pillows and they are all covered by handmade crochet in vibrant coloured floral designs. It felt cozy, like a warm hug, and I could already see myself lounging here for years. The walls were lined with photos of a younger Victor at various stages of life, and a few featured an adorable elderly couple.

“Who are they?” I wondered aloud.

“They’re my grandparents… they raised me,” Victor said, suddenly materialising behind me like a ghost. When did he sneak in?

I saw him beside me, but slightly behind. A small smile playing on his lips and his brown eyes were warm while looking at that picture as if nostalgia hit him. Right now, he doesn't look like a Tom Ford model, but more like a guy who lives next door dressed up in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. His usually perfectly styled slicked back hair was now smooth and fluffy.

Stop ogling him, my mind warned. So i cleared my throat,
“Oh… where are they now?” I asked, feeling a twinge of sadness.

“Resting peacefully in the cemetery,” he replied, as casually as if he were discussing the weather.

I blinked. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem! It's been a long time since they left. Anyways, I’m going to prepare food. Do you have any allergies?” he said, steering the conversation back to practical matters.

“Wait, you’re going to cook? Do you even know how? Is there a hidden chef I don’t know about? Are you really a millionaire businessman or just a really good actor? Or are you planning to poison me? *I gasped* Don't tell me you're one of my father's enemies and these are all a part of your plot so you could take revenge against my father.” I bombarded him with questions, but he walked straight into the kitchen, leaving me in his dust.
Not one to be deterred, I followed him like a curious puppy, still throwing questions like confetti.

“If I wanted to take revenge, I would have done something when you tried to escape… Marrying was not necessary..." he said bluntly.

“Good Point. But still-”

“Who said millionaires can’t cook?”, he asked, cutting me off and it felt intentional.

“Because they are too busy with their business”

“Why would they be too busy to cook for themselves?” he replied, finally looking mildly intrigued. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years, so why would I need to hire someone?” he said nonchalantly while gathering the ingredients  and though i am talking, I managed to keep a close eye on him. Getting poisoned at my wedding night would make the story good, but not my stomach or body. It's better to be safer than sorry.