Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
NEVIO
I am standing in the kitchen with Dalila in my arms, our lips locked, her heart beating against my body.
“Nevio.” My brother’s voice calls out to me.
I lift my head towards the sound. Not letting go of Dalila.
“What?” I snap.
He is standing in the kitchen doorway. The two guards are right behind him, ready to grab him if he tries anything again.
“I’m sorry, man.” He mutters, sounding sorry for himself.
“You’re sorry you got your ass handed to you.” I snark.
“Yeah man, I’m sorry about that too. But really, Nevio. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. She’s —“ He clears his throat. “Your wife is beautiful.”
“You’re speaking about her as though she isn’t right here in the room with us.”
He nods, looking down at the floor.
“Dalila, I’m sorry.” Damion says. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him being that polite to a woman. He rarely treats them with respect.
Dalila looks from me to him. I shrug. It’s her choice if she wants to accept his apology or not.
“Ok.” she says, after a while and my brother’s shoulder relaxes a little. Then he lifts his chin, trying to regain some of his dignity. His face is still smeared with blood from the fight.
“I’ll head out. I just came to meet - I came to - I’ll let myself out.”
“Good idea.” I say coolly.
I wait, listening for the sound of the front door closing. Then I let out a heavy breath. My fucking brother is an endless source of stress for me.
“He has always been my father’s favorite.” I mutter, more to myself that to Dalila.
“Why? He’s such an asshole.” She says with full sincerity.
I laugh.
I can’t help it.
It’s so funny because more accurate words have not been spoken more plainly.
“He really is an asshole.” I laugh deeper. Then Dalila is laughing, too.
It feels good to just stand here in the kitchen laughing with someone.
Someone beautiful. Someone with a soft and caring heart. Someone who sees through my obvious flaws, who doesn’t look at me as though I am a monster - someone he seems to see me .
“Thank you.” I say after a pause. Brushing my hand across her cheek to tuck a stray curl of hair behind her ear.
“For what?” She asks as she stares up into my eyes, warming my soul.
“For stopping me. From doing something stupid. He really is an asshole, but I was pretty close to breaking his jaw and that would have caused a lot of issues between my father and me.” I grin.
“He wouldn’t have looked a right idiot with his jaw wired shut. And - even better - he wouldn’t have been able to speak properly for a good long time.” She tries to reason with me playfully.
“So, you’re saying I should have broken his jaw?”
“I’m saying he might have deserved it.” She grins.
“I know he did. Even though he is my brother, and I am almost fully certain he wouldn’t have hurt you, just what he did was enough to deserve a broken jaw. I’m so sorry he touched you like that.”
“I’m ok, Nevio.” She says as she nuzzles her face against my chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my back.
“You’re perfect, Lila.” I whisper, with my lips pressed against the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair.
At dinner that night, Dalila sits right next to me. It’s the first time she’s done this. She usually sits in the chair opposite, basically as far away from me as she can.
She reaches out beneath the table and touches my leg, drawing my attention to her even though she already has all of it.
“What’s for dinner?”
“I think you should wait and see — the chef should bring it out any second now.” I grin.
She scrunches her nose and sniffs the air carefully.
“It smells like—”
The chef walks in and places a glass dish of seared salmon with crispy baby potatoes and lemon slices. Then another plate of caramelized vegetable, cut long and thin and finally, corn on the cob coated in butter and salt.
She stares at all of it with her jaw dropped open.
“It’s—” she stammers over her words.
“It’s your favorite meal.” I finish for her.
“But—how did you know—everything, even the corn, how did you—”
I grin as she stares at me in disbelief.
“I asked your brother, baby girl. I wanted to surprise you.”
She grins, ear to ear, her entire face shining.
“That’s so sweet of you.” Her hand is on my thigh again as I dish up for her. I expect her to pick up her knife and her fork, but she doesn’t. She just picks up the fork and starts eating, her other hand still on my thigh, burning heated fire into my skin, sending shivers of delight through my body.
After dinner we are sitting in the living room, her wrapped in my arms, as we watch some cooking show that she seems to enjoy. I’m not paying too much attention because I can’t seem to drag my eyes off her.
Every time she glances at me she asks, ‘are you watching?’ And I say I am, even though I’m not.
She is too beautiful. She is too perfect.
Do I even deserve something this special?
My phone vibrates against the coffee table, and she leans forward to pick it up for me. She hands it to me then snuggles back into my arm.
I slide to unlock the screen and navigate to my notifications.
My heart stops.
“It’s a message from your father, Dalila.” I say, not wanting to ruin our peaceful evening.
She sits up and stares at me with wide eyes.
“What did he say?”
“He wants to meet up and talk.”