Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Rayna
I’ve made apple turnovers more times than I can count. They’re quick and easy to prepare, delicious, and pretty to look at. They’re also inexpensive, so the small pie-like treats became a staple in my baking repertoire many times throughout my years of experimenting in the kitchen.
But today is the first time making them with twenty million dollars in the bank.
Twenty million dollars in a secure bank that only I can access.
I feel like an insane person just thinking about it, because in no way, shape, or form does this feel like reality.
Money hasn’t always been easy to come by for my brother and me, and certainly not money to this caliber.
Our father was decently well off, but most of his funds were kept for himself or tied up in shady business we weren’t to discuss.
Federico had money too, but I was expected to treat it as if it were his and his alone.
I’ve gotten good at stretching a dollar, so the knowledge that I would never need to do that again…
it was enough to make me feel safe. Truly financially safe for the first time.
It also made me feel uncharacteristically grateful toward a man I still wasn’t sure I could ever really get along with. Apollo hasn’t gained my full trust and devotion by any means, but I couldn’t keep doubting him the same way now that he committed such an expensive and symbolic gesture.
He gave me security for the future to the tune of twenty million out of his own pockets.
Twenty million dollars and the continued use of his credit card for daily expenses.
I still can’t imagine what his motivation is for spending such a frivolous sum on me and my brother.
We’re still practically strangers, even if Yordan has become attached to his hip these past few days.
Speaking of…
The front door swings open, the sound of footsteps and soft conversation hitting my ears as I drop the last dessert onto the cooling rack.
Perfect timing, I muse silently, setting the hot baking sheet on top of the stove.
I shed my oven mitts and brush off my hands, smiling down at the result of my work.
Eight perfectly flakey and glistening turnovers filled with piping hot cinnamon apples.
“Fuck, it smells like Thanksgiving in here,” a deep voice rumbles happily. My eyes flick toward the entrance of the kitchen and I chuckle, finding Elio’s excited expression. “Yordan, dude, tell me she shares.”
My little brother swings around the corner, eyes lightened with eagerness. “Hell yeah, she does. Sharing is pretty much all she does with her desserts, lucky for us. She says baking takes away hunger, and it must be true because she barely eats her own stuff.”
“Well, these just came out so they’re too hot to eat,” I say, giving Yordan a pointed look. He’s burned his tongue far too many times, and he never learns from it.
“I want to make a joke about coming out, but I’m really never too hot to eat,” a new voice quips, almost startling me. Armani Moretti enters the kitchen, an unamused Apollo at his side.
The tattoo-covered man folds his arms over his chest, surveying the area with a soft grin.
His dark hair is tied into a loose bun at the back of his neck, plenty of flyaway pieces framing his chiseled face.
I haven’t seen him since the plane ride, but just as I noticed last time, Armani is lovely to look at.
Like a supermodel covered in custom black and white art.
“Don’t make dirty jokes around the kid,” Apollo admonishes, glaring.
“Not a kid,” Yordan half-pouts.
“Hey, I could have meant that I’m always up for food,” Armani replies with a light shrug. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Yes, it’s my mind in the gutter,” Apollo drawls, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Armani smirks. “Glad we agree.” Turning his attention to me, he looks me up and down. “Great outfit, where’d you get it?”
A small huff of laughter leaves me. “Just some guy. My closet is full of things he picked out.”
“Sounds like a perfect man,” he muses, a tatted finger tapping his chin. “Fashion sense is one of the best qualities one can possess.”
“I was going to say he’s a bit extra,” I quip, popping a hand on my hip. “Half of the clothes are still laying around haphazardly around my room. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make them all fit in my closet and dresser.”
Armani’s shoulders stiffen and an unexpectedly determined look takes over his face. He grabs Yordan by the shoulder and begins to push him toward the stairs. “Show me this closet disaster. I have to fix it or I won’t sleep tonight.”
“Dude, it’s just a closet—”
“Bite your tongue. I’ll have nightmares about this, Yordan. Nightmares. Show me the mess, now.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or how to react at all. Armani seems like he might have a panic attack if he can’t fix up my clothing organization. I don’t even think it’s that bad… Maybe I should ease his concern?
“Way to go, Rayna,” Elio comments, rolling his eyes. “You’ve gone and broken the boy on his first visit.”
“He’ll be insufferable if you tell him no,” Apollo adds, voice dark.
I hesitate, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. Sighing, I decide it’s not that big of a deal. The man made my life easier by curating a wardrobe for me, and I can’t even deny that he did an impeccable job. Every single piece he bought for me is something I can see myself wearing.
“You can take him up,” I tell my brother with a sigh.
Armani pumps a fist in victory. “Thank God, let’s go.”
“Just stay away from my top drawer,” I call out to them sternly. “My delicates are off limits.”
Yordan groans. “Fine, but we better not find anything gross in there.”
“Yordan!” I admonish. “There is nothing gross about my room.”
“No bedside table goodies?” Armani asks, smirking wide. “What a shame.” My jaw drops at his candor, and my brother grimaces, quickly covering his ears.
“Bro, not cool.”
“Couldn’t miss the opportunity to joke, man. My bad.”
“I want a lobotomy.”
“Never given a lobotomy before so I can’t help you with that one. Would you settle for a tattoo? Those I can do.”
Yordan’s interest is piqued. “Really?”
“No tattoos,” I order, voice stern and loud.
Armani waves me off. “I’ve found it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.”
“Don’t even think about it, Yordan Damyanev Todorov.”
“Ooo, you’re fucked, man. She full-named you.” Armani chuckles. “Why was that kind of hot? Can you do my full name next?”
“Ignore my brother, he has no shame and knows no boundaries,” Elio cuts in, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face. “I’ll escort them upstairs and make sure Armani behaves himself.”
He jumps into action without another word, ushering the two up the stairs like a father handling his unruly sons.
“Well,” I mutter, finding myself alone with Apollo. “That was…something. Are all of your brothers so spirited?”
He lifts a broad shoulder. “Depends on the day.”
I nod, understanding his point. With eight brothers, I can imagine things change on a day to day basis. Maybe even hour to hour.
“Did you get my text with your banking information?”
“I did,” I admit, looking down. “I didn’t know how to reply.”
“Any form of confirmation, perhaps?” He arches a brow. “A thumbs up would have sufficed.”
I almost laugh, shaking my head at his strange suggestion. “A thumbs up seems like a bit of a slap in the face when it’s the response to millions of dollars.”
His head tilts. “And no response isn’t?”
“I was going to talk to you,” I defend, sucking in a breath. “I figured that I would see you today. And here you are, so.”
“Here I am,” he echoes.
I steady myself, gathering every bit of courage I can find. I can thank him properly. I can be slightly vulnerable for a moment, especially after last night. Rounding the counter, I narrow the space between us.
“Don’t read into this,” I warn. Swallowing hard, I ignore the confusion on his face and walk straight into his chest. My arms wrap around his back, and his deep woodsy scent invades my senses. “Thank you, for the money. For everything, I guess. Yordan’s never been happier.”
Apollo freezes, like he isn’t sure whether he should move, or even breathe. For a second, the apartment feels like it’s suspended in time, there isn’t a single sound outside of my own heartbeat swimming in my ears.
“You’re not going soft on me now, are you, micina?”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I step back, ending the awkward embrace.
“Never. You’re still the worst, but you’re also currently the best. I just needed you to know that I won’t forget what you’ve done for us.
Even if I still think you’ll eventually tire of taking care of us.
I won’t hate you as much when you throw us away now. ”
“Rayna?” he asks seriously.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to kill every single person that has anything to do with how little you value yourself. I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t bother mentoring Yordan the way I’ve decided to if I planned to let you both go. I’m invested in you Todorovs, and I don’t abandon my investments.”
The firmness in the way he speaks sends a shiver down my back. “We’ll see,” I reply quietly, swallowing hard.
“We brought Yordan home early for a reason,” he says, changing the topic swiftly. “Your baked goods and messy closet seems to have distracted everyone.”
“Oh?”
“Yordan’s tutor is a couple days early.” Apollo watches me closely, trying to catch any reaction I may have to this news. “He’ll be here in a few minutes to meet you. This was the best time.”
No one asked me if this was the best time.
But I suppose I can’t be upset. I did want to meet this tutor before he interacted with my brother, and it’s not exactly like I’m busy.
“You really think he’ll be helpful to Yordan? You trust him?”