"Mafia's African Rose

Hurt

I had spent days holed up in my room, doing everything possible to avoid Alexio. Meals were out of the question; I barely showed my face at dinner or breakfast, preferring to sneak into the kitchen at night to avoid everyone else. Funny how life had twisted so drastically in just a few months.

"Come on, Angel, stop acting like a hermit," I muttered to myself, trying to lift my spirits. Alexa had checked on me repeatedly, trying to coax me back to my usual self, but I just wasn't there yet.

Tonight, hunger won over my pride, so I slipped quietly down to the kitchen, hoping it would be empty. A few maids gave me side glances, but I ignored them, heading straight for the stove to make pancakes—my ultimate comfort food. Once they were ready, I perched at the kitchen island, moaning with delight as I took a bite. Eyes closed, I let myself get lost in the heavenly taste.

that I didn't even notice him until I felt his presence. I looked up, halfway through a blissful bite, only to find Alexio standing a few feet away, watching me with that unreadable expression.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I nearly choked, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"What...!" I coughed, struggling to catch my breath. In an instant, he was by my side, filling a glass with water and handing it to me without a word.

My first instinct was to thank him, but then I caught myself. I didn't want to accept his help so easily, not when I was supposed to be angry, indifferent... anything but grateful. Instead, I brushed past him, marching to the fridge to grab a bottle of water instead. I could feel his eyes on me, which only made me more self-conscious.

"Thought you didn't come out for food anymore," he said, his voice low but with a faint hint of amusement.

"Maybe I just didn't want to run into certain people," I shot back, hoping to sound casual but feeling my face heat up.

He moved closer, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. "I'm just glad you're eating," he said, his voice softened slightly. The shift threw me off balance, making me pause mid-bite.

For a moment, there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, a warmth that was entirely unexpected. But then he tilted his head, his gaze running over me with a smirk. "Although, watching you nearly choke over a pancake was entertaining."

I scoffed, trying to play it cool. "Don't you have something more important to do than monitoring my midnight snack?"

"Not tonight." He shrugged, still smirking, as if daring me to continue our little back-and-forth. His muscles flexed as he moved, each ripple beneath his shirt a reminder of just how powerful he was. His tattooed, veiny hands were a turn-on I couldn't ignore, and for the first time, I saw him in something other than his usual tailored suits—a simple pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Casual, yet somehow even more attractive. My gaze slipped down, and I couldn't help but notice the sizable imprint of his Dick.

I quickly forced my eyes away, mentally scolding myself. But when I dared to glance back up, I caught an amused glint in his eyes, as if he knew exactly what effect he was having on me. It made me feel all the more ridiculous for letting him get under my skin like this, but I couldn't help it. He was impossible to ignore, and I hated how easily he could make me feel this way.

Feeling bolder, I held up my pancake. "Want one? I make them pretty well," I teased, expecting him to decline.

To my surprise, he reached forward, pinching off a small piece. "They're decent," he said after taking a bite, though the faint curve of his lips betrayed his satisfaction.