Baking With Boys |✔

32. Cafe Mocha

"I am in a relationship with Giulia."

Silence.

That's what happened. She stared at us and we stared back. The air was so thick I was afraid that I might burst out in laughter. Though the situation was anything but funny. I stole a glance towards Brandon, his expression incomprehensible, and thought of something to break the silence.

Bella was waiting, scrutinizing us under her laser gaze, and I knew that this was a land mine with only one correct answer. And I really didn't want to be blown away today.

"Uh..." I stalled, trying not to make a stupid comment or query. So I settled for a safe one. "How long?"

Brandon exhaled, and even Bella leaned back, her offensive stance turning into a more relaxed one.

"Four years." Though her reply was short and crisp, a small smile bloomed on her lips. Bella never smiled, not like these real ones. This momentary feeling gave me the courage, and I asked more.

"You said we were the first ones to know?" It was funny how from hating each other we were actually attempting a conversation.

"I told no one. Not like this," she whispered, gesturing to the room with her hands. "So, you understand what this means right?"

The cold steel tone was back in her voice and Brandon shifted in his seat. To anyone looking upon us, no one would have dared to suggest that Bella was the one coming out of her closet. It felt more like Brandon and I were here to confess our sins and ask for forgiveness. The threat was clear, and being the wiser, I took it in stead.

"Of course." I knew if I showed weakness, she wouldn't think twice about crushing me. There had to be a trade. "But tell me why. What does Francis have to do with this?"

She narrowed her eyes, contemplating to answer or not. Her eyes flitted to my hand intertwined with Brandon's and then back up at me.

"He tried to pay off Giulia."

"Who? Francis?"

"No, my papa." The words were like poison on her tongue, and the loathing for her father was clear on her face.

"But why?"

"I am a billionaire's daughter. He wanted a son for his business, and now I can't even give him a son-in-law." My head swam for a moment at her dismissive attitude towards such discrimination, but I decided that it was a battle to fight for another time.

"So you thought if you'll marry Francis...?"

"I just need his name, oui. We won't have to oblige each other." The pieces fell together, and it was like a fog had lifted off my mind.

I felt better, I don't why but I did. Maybe because there was finally a reason, a concrete thing on which I could put all the past actions on to. Not that they made it any less hurting or better.

"But all this time? You could have told the Fre—, Francis. He would have understood," Brandon spoke, saving himself in time with the tongue slip.

The cold sneer and a look of pure hatred was what we received for this question. "I did. You think I didn't try?"

I frowned, cowering a little at her accusing tone. Brandon squeezed my hand, and I returned the gesture, finding what little solace we could under her seething gaze.

"Why do you think I came to the filthy town of yours?!" she snapped, and I almost retorted back in anger at her statement but Brandon held me down.