Chapter-15🌜 Seconds for me.
William's POV
"I hate you!"
That's what I had said, but then why did he look like that one hurt him?
Also the way he could have said, 'I hate you too'...
But he didn't. Why??
Like he literally took my world away from me-of course he hates me the most!
Lies. Another one of his lies.
Although the moments that we had tonight were so confusing...
We were literally arguing like we were long lost friends, and not two people who got engaged in an arranged marriage just two days ago...
Was I actually bantering with her killer?
That brings a bitter taste of shame in my mouth.
And it's not the wine.
There's silence after that, neither of us says anything. It's like just that one comment took the spark away from the conversation.
And when I say 'spark', it's true. Like no matter how much I am ashamed of it-I was enjoying his teasing.
I can't deny it.
Because the situation I am in, denial would just worsen my situation. It's better to accept it now only, and put a full stop to it.
This can't happen.
It was my fault that I even let this be a 'friendly' convo.
He provoked me...and I let him.
That makes me so angry at myself.
How can I?
She died just a week ago and I am already faltering...
Dad is right, I'm just too emotional.
This can't work now.
Luca silently enters the room and serves our starters, the name of which I have now forgotten.
Was it Bulata? Hmm...Burara?
Whatever.
It has some cherry tomatoes and some basil on it though.
And it looks so appetizing.
After finishing the presentation-taking his time with it-Luca steps back.
'Buon appetito, signori,' he says with anticipation in his sharp Italian accent.
Zane replies back with a simple, "Grazie". And although I did hear him talk in Italian on that day...
But this time I do notice his proper Italian accent, which only makes an appearance when he is using the said language-but otherwise he has more of a British accent, when he talks in English.
And I wonder how he got it. Aren't the Belladonnas settled in NYC now?
If he doesn't have an Italian accent, you would expect him to have an American one...
So as Luca leaves, I ask him, because I can't help it.
When I wanna know something-I just do.
"You have a British accent." I conclude. "How's that?"
I take a sip from the glass of wine, he filled back for me-and this time...I do sip it slowly and "enjoy its flavours" as he had said.
He pauses in the middle of using his knife to gently cut into the center of the ball-like structure on his plate-it must be the burr-urm you get it right?
And raises his head to look at me, "Do I?" He tosses the question back on me. His eyes twinkle in the soft lighting in this room.
That makes me reconsider, why do I even wanna know why what kind of accent he has.
That's none of my business.
"Forget it." I tell him, as I pick up my own fork and knife, and start imitating what he was doing.
'Cut the centre of this ball'
"No-no, ask." He sniggers. "We are here to talk right? So ask whatever you want."
"Whatever I want huh?" I cut a piece of it and then with my fork pick it up and swirl it-but not put it in my mouth yet, instead I eye him with a predatory gleam.
"Whatever." He reassures, matching the shine in my eyes.
I take the bite in my mouth and moan out a 'mhmm'...
And Zane looks right at my mouth, but I ignore him.
The aroma and the delicious flavours exploding in my mouth.
I just know...I am gonna enjoy every second of it-and I am not talking about just food.
So let's start tiny, ya?
"What's up with your multiple accents?"
"You really wanna know that huh?" He puts a bite of his own in his mouth and then chews. He takes his time like he's devouring a piece of art.
"Just answer." I tell him, after I swallow.
"Sure." He pats his mouth with the napkin in his lap and then answers to me, "I have an Italian accent because-simply, I am Italian."
He closes his mouth and then wipes his teeth with his tongue. "As for the British accent, I did my schooling after 12 in London. So that one got stuck with me."
He makes a 'woop' sound before 'stuck'.
"Oh, so did your family live in London at that time?" I wonder.
"No, It was just me." I take a bite in my mouth, contemplating his words.
"Basically a hostel." He completes.
Oh so a hostel...
Don't judge me, but I still shiver from the thought of a hostel. I have a lovely childhood trauma about it.
So I can't help the way my chewing stops.
"Was it hard?" I ask him.
"No" He cuts a bite with a knife and then puts it in his mouth, like someone who's had this a hundred times.
After he has consumed it, he continues, "staying at home would have been harder."
He doesn't say more than that, and I don't press. Because I can tell he won't like to talk about it.
Instead I ask, "What about Vance? Was he there with you too?"
I think about Vance, and then try to recall if I have seen Zane in college. No I haven't.
"No. He was homeschooled." He says, although I do notice the edge in his tone on the mention of his twin.
So, Vance isn't close to him either huh? Interesting.
But then he moves his gaze on me.
"How do you know Vance though?" He's not eating now. He has put down the cutleries and is now staring at me.
"Oh, we were in the same college." I tell him.
"You were?..." I don't know if it's a question for me or a statement. But I do know, whatever it is-he is not intrigued, from the way his jaw clenches.
"Yeah..." I trail, and then add, "but we weren't close." Now neither of us is eating, "quite the opposite."
I don't wanna comment on why I wanted him to know that.
Why I wanted him to know we weren't close...
I am going to blame it on my people pleasing for now.
"You weren't?" He asks.
"No. He didn't use to like me much." I shrug.
"Oh yeah?" He doesn't question why he didn't like me. Maybe him not liking people is not an unusual thing.
He looks down on his plate and picks the cutlery back up. "What about you?"
"What about me what?" I blink at him although he can't see me.
He doesn't look at me when he questions this, "Did you like him?"
His eyes are still down but then raises them and there's a neutral expression on his face.
"I didn't." How would I? Why would I?
"He was a bully to me."
And the neutral expression changes and his knuckles turn white, "why?"
"Since when do bullies need a reason?" I question and laugh. Even though there was no humour in it.
"Sometimes, coming in his way. Sometimes something else."
"That's not reasonable." He says.
"Exactly."
His nose flares when he says, "When you move-in and he still bothers you, tell me." His tone is dead serious.
There was something in the way he said it, that I can't understand.
So, all I can do is nod.
I avoid his eye contact and look back at my plate.
Will he actually do something if I tell him?
No he won't.
Why would he choose me over his brother, moreover he's the killer himself...
Why would he help me?
??
After that, there's just silence between us, no one says anything. Luca comes and brings our main course and we eat it without a word spoken.
The main course was just delectable. It was the perfect portion size and the perfect mix of spices.
The only exchange that happened between us was between Luca and Zane, and even that was just 'thank you' and 'sure, sir'.
When we are done with it, Luca brings us Tiramisu, and serves us each a piece.
And let me tell you, it was MOUTHWATERING! It was kinda a smaller piece though, but I didn't ask for more.
It would be way too embarrassing.
But apparently I don't have to, because Zane rings the bell and Luca comes back.
"Everything good sir?" He asks.
"Yeah, we would like to have seconds of Tiramisu." He says absentmindedly.
"We? I didn't-"
"You didn't have to." He says, not looking at me. "It's for me."
Hmm, I don't say anything to that. Although, I do know it's not...
Because I saw him eating that Tiramisu, he didn't look like he wanted more of it...
"Okay, sir." Luca says, "It will be here in a moment." He leaves.
"Oh yeah!" Zane says as if remembered something. "I have something for you..." He pulls out the chair beside him backwards.
And there are-
What the... one is a plain shopping bag which definitely has something in it and a gift wrapped up lying on the chair-that was one hidden under the table cloth.
"They were there all this time??" I exclaim.
"Well yeah." He raises them both and puts them on the table in my direction.
"These are for you." He points towards the one with a bigger rectangular gift wrapping. "This one is from my mom."
And then he points towards the bag, "And this one is from me."
Gifts? He's giving me gifts? I just blink at them, completely dumbfounded.
"For what?" I mutter.
"It's Christmas, William." He says as if it's so obvious. "Mom said you are part of the family now so..." He shrugs.
Part of the family? I-What?
Since when?
A/N??
'Part of family' he had said... ????
And Gifts...
Do you like gifts or not? Give reasons ??
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Wanna know what's inside them? Read next chapter ??