Chapter 40 Liza
LIZA
As I trudged to my car, my muscles were leaden with exhaustion from a demanding day of catering to a picky and indecisive client.
Those were the only kind I seemed to attract lately.
I was all for women supporting one another, girl power and all that went with it, but the client was a bitch.
There was no other way to accurately describe her.
Each day was a battle of trying to anticipate her ever-changing preferences and needs, and today had been particularly challenging.
I had to charge her for three extra meals that I had meticulously prepared, only for her to reject them.
She’d looked right into my eyes and flippantly said that they were too salty.
It had taken all my willpower to bite my tongue because I knew damn well my meals were perfectly seasoned—and I had rave reviews from the upper echelon of Presley Acres to prove it.
The frustration lingered as I drove home with the containers filled with the leftovers she’d tried to refuse to pay for. I spent a few miles of drive time contemplating whether to freeze them for a quick meal in the future or offer them to my parents.
I even considered handing them over to my diligent bodyguard, who had faithfully followed me throughout the day without so much as a sneeze, staying quiet and alert at all times.
I figured he could use a satisfying meal after babysitting me, which I knew was not at all entertaining.
Nothing eventful had happened since we left the house in the morning.
All day long, try as I might, I couldn’t get Sylas’s tear-stained face out of my mind. As I chopped carrots, fried chicken, and stirred sauces, I tried to imagine what his life would look like now that he’d been brought back to face punishment for his crimes. I hoped the punishment would be severe.
Sylas deserved what was coming to him, regardless of how remorseful he was. Because of him, Castro was a free man with unlimited resources at his disposal.
The entire conversation Sylas had had with Ty and Dominic was interesting, but I kept replaying one thing: Sylas had asked Castro how he knew about his gambling addiction and his debt to the loan sharks.
I wouldn’t have thought information like that was something that could be discovered easily, by say, a Google search.
Not something one could look up, anyway, without being in the know in the casino where the money was owed.
Then, Castro had hacked into the so-called highly secure medical database at my doctor’s office to retrieve my lifelong medical history. He was a man who obviously had the entire fucking world at his fingertips, and he had some really good connections.
Well, it didn’t matter now. He had the information and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
He couldn’t be an easy man to get along with, and certainly no one in their right mind who wasn’t desperate for a way out of a problem would help a man like Castro. Sylas had been an easy mark.
Of course, perhaps Castro was just better at charming people than I gave him credit for.
Or maybe people were intrigued by his light features, and his charm—assuming he had any—was incidental.
Whatever it was, it had given him the opportunity to strike up conversations and lure people into his evil web of deception.
Either way, I was fucking terrified of his next move.
He was too unpredictable, and too off-the-chart to be anything less than dangerous.
Even more than that, I worried others would learn I was an omega, and I’d have men breaking down my door to have their way with me.
Of course, I’d been living with that fear since I’d found out what I was. Since I was a child, certainly.
A vision of the men from the ice cream parlor popped into my head, their fangs practically dripping with saliva as they looked me up and down, taking in every inch of me, their gazes lingering on every curve and every plane.
It was exactly those types of thoughts that had slowly brought me around to the idea of having protectors standing just outside my clients’ doors.
Although some had given me puzzled looks when I tried to explain that the bodyguard was necessary, they all accepted the idea once I reminded them that I was the future mate of the soon-to-be-named alpha.
Even the crab ass from today accepted it.
I couldn’t help that it wasn’t the whole truth, but if it weren’t for my relationship with Ty, I wouldn’t have access to a full security detail, so I’d explain it in whichever way worked for me.
The details of my private life were mine, and private.
No client was entitled to them simply because they were a client.
When I finally made it home, Ty’s truck was parked in the driveway, which was a surprise, and a pleasant one.
I hadn’t expected him to be done with his meeting so early.
If I was honest, I’d expected them to be plotting well into the night.
Good thing I had the meals the bitch-client hadn’t wanted.
The thought of standing over a hot stove after cooking for other people all day made me queasy, and I was sick of take-out.
The weariness that clung to my bones from the mentally draining day lifted when I walked through the door.
Knowing that Ty and I could spend a full evening together was a relief, though I figured we’d spent a good portion of it talking about Sylas, the interrogation, and whatever plan he and his father had come up with to find Castro.
A mouthwatering aroma assaulted my senses and stopped me in my tracks when I entered the kitchen.
Ty manned the stove, spoon in one hand, potholder in the other, and a playful smirk on his lips.
Delighted laughter bubbled from my chest. “I didn’t know you could cook!” My eyes widened as I took in the roast perched on the counter and surrounded by perfectly golden roasted potatoes and savory carrots. Saliva pooled in my mouth.
The scene was a testament to Ty’s secret culinary prowess, and it filled me with amusement and awe. My man was certainly a Jack-of-all-trades, and I couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets and tricks he had in his magic bag of talents.
Ty laughed, his eyes glimmering mischievously. “You look so surprised. I picked up some things from my housekeeper and chef. Give me a little credit for knowing how to function as an adult.”
I moved to his side and looked at the roast. “I’m not surprised as much as this was the last thing I expected to see today.
” I put my hand in the center of his back and smiled.
The simple touch spoke of the easiness between us.
The comfort. “Honestly, if you were dressed in a tutu with sparkles, I would be equally shocked.” I danced my fingertips along his spine as I spoke.
“I have obviously underestimated your abilities in the kitchen. Impressive stuff.” Exactly what women dreamed about.
He smiled and shrugged, leaning closer to me until our lips were mere millimeters apart. “Just wait till you taste it.” Even if the food didn’t taste as good as it smelled, his confidence was easy to love.
“When did you have time to learn how to cook?” I moved to the counter and dipped my finger in the au jus to taste it. “Holy shit. This is delicious. Have you been taking classes behind my back?”
“Well, it’s not something I reveal often,” he confessed, a hint of pride lacing his voice. “I used to sneak into the kitchen and watch the chef work. I was always impressed with his quick chopping and dicing skills. He was so damn fast.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that skill takes many years to perfect.”
“So I learned.” He held up one of his left fingers. “When no one was looking, I picked up the largest, most intimidating knife and tried my hand at chopping a carrot. Needless to say, more than the carrot was cut.”
I took his hand and inspected the finger closely under the light of the cooker hood. A small scar I’d never noticed before cut into the skin just above the nail. “You better be thankful you didn’t lose a finger. Would have had to call you One Thumb.”
“We can’t all have innate chef skills, Liza.” He rolled his eyes, then winked. “My parents never thought cooking was a necessary skill, given our lifestyle, but I found it fascinating, so I picked up a thing or two along the way. You can be the ultimate judge on whether or not it tastes good.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Thank you, Ty. This means a lot to me.”
Satisfaction glinted in his eyes. “You’re welcome, Liza. Now, finish settling in and sit your cute ass down. It’s time for me to feed you.”
I kicked off my shoes and piled my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head before taking my seat at the table.
The anticipation built as Ty plated the succulent roast and roasted vegetables.
My sense of smell was pleasantly overwhelmed by the delicious scent wafting from the dish before me.
With each bite, my taste buds erupted in delight at the tender meat and the delicious blend of flavors.
It was a symphony of taste, and a culinary masterpiece crafted by the hands of a man I was growing closer to with each passing day.
Gratitude and affection welled up within me.
It wasn’t just the food that warmed my heart—and other areas of my body—it was the gesture behind it.
Ty cooking for me spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness and how much he cared, and I suddenly realized the depth of his affection and the growing bond we shared.
Not that I hadn’t been thinking about him every second of every day, but whenever he did something like this, it showed me he wasn’t just this stuck-up prince who expected everything to be handed to him on a golden platter.
Ty was genuine, and he looked at me like I was the only other person in the world. I was as lucky as a woman could get.