chapter 6
Iselyn
It worked. My dad asked him to stay away from me, in a politically polite way, and he listened. He didn’t come in front of me for an entire week. Until today. But today, he hasn’t come alone.
His cousin Avira is here. She’s my friend. The first time we met was at a party at her house, and it was also the first time I met Matleon. After that, we crossed paths several times, at gatherings and parties at my uncle’s places, and at her parents’ house in D.C.
Today, we’re meeting at the Russian restaurant where I eat almost every day. It’s the best restaurant I’ve found in this city, and it’s very close to my apartment.
I ask her, glancing briefly at him, “What is he doing here?”
“He’s just bodyguarding,” she says lightly.
“Hello, Iselyn. Long time no see,” Matleon says, wearing that smile that deceives people into believing he’s a harmless golden retriever. Such a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
I ignore him and take a few deep breaths, telling myself that all I need to do is treat him like a ghost. Even if it’s physically impossible to ignore his huge frame, I can still try. I give Avi a smile and settle down on my chair. She sits beside me.
“How long are you staying here, Lyn?” she asks.
“Just three more weeks,” I tell her with a sigh.
I’m so done with this city and its people.
Dexter has made a significant amount of progress.
He’ll be leaving in a week. He’s a busy person with his own startup and doesn’t have time to waste at all.
After he leaves, I’ll stay here to test the results of his medicine for him.
It will take two more weeks. And hopefully, the results will be good.
Once that’s done, he can finally start taking those medicines.
I really wish he sees the results in his body.
I want him to win this battle with cancer.
“I can sense and understand your love for this city,” she remarks.
I chuckle. “That kind of understanding is rare to find.”
She glances at Leo. “You must know what’s best here.”
He places our order without hesitation. “Beef stroganoff, borscht with sour cream, pelmeni, and blini with caviar.”
The dishes I love here. Is it a coincidence?
“Do they only serve Russian food here?” she asks.
With a barely noticeable tilt at the corner of his mouth, he nods. Does he know that I eat here, and what I eat here? Whatever. I decide not to think about it.
“This is the only restaurant nearby that serves authentic Russian cuisine. I usually eat here,” I say.
“Then I should have let you place the order.”
I shrug. “I would have ordered the same anyway.”
“Hey, Lyn, why don’t you come with me to watch the race tomorrow? I’ve got two tickets. It’ll be fun.”
She’s here in New York to go on dates with a car racer.
She’s thinking about marrying him. Just like my parents, her parents are also pushing for an arranged marriage.
But the way my father is searching for a suitable man for me, I don’t have to worry for the next decade.
So far, he hasn’t liked a single man enough to even consider, leave alone reach, the point of marriage.
I grin. “Count me in. I’ve never seen a car race before. What time will we leave?”
“Six in the evening.”
I give her a thumbs-up. “Pick me up on the way.”
After dinner, I take Avi to see my apartment.
Matleon tags along with us. Although this entire area—within a radius of three kilometers or so—belongs to him, and there are thousands of security personnel stationed everywhere, making it safer than heaven itself, his penthouse is barely seven hundred meters away from my place.
Anyone with half a brain can see through his useless excuse of coming along as Avi’s bodyguard.
I unlock the door and lead Avi inside. I give her a small tour of my place.
The apartment is simple, elegant, and quietly luxurious.
As soon as you step in, there’s a fully equipped kitchen to the right.
Beyond that opens a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, sheer curtains filtering the city lights, and plush couches arranged around a low glass table.
The flooring is warm wood. Minimal art decorates the walls.
There are two rooms. One is the master bedroom, my room, with an attached bathroom and a private balcony. The other is a guest bedroom.
“How about you stay here tonight?” I offer when we settle into the living room couches, where Matleon is already sitting, relaxed and comfortable, like this is his place. Well, technically, it is.
She nods enthusiastically. “Perfect. We’ll watch movies.”
I grin.
Matleon
He looks up from his laptop when the door opens. I walk into the living room where Zo is sitting.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“I sold her for two hundred dollars,” I reply lazily. “Couldn’t manage more.”
His expression doesn’t change even a fraction.
“It was a poor joke, but you could still laugh, for the sake of brotherhood.” I lean back against the couch. “She’s staying with her tonight.”
This time, his face changes, just a little. Not many people could pick up on it, but I can. He’s not happy. His source of oxygen is no longer within his visible range.
“Are there cameras in her house?” he asks.
I chuckle. “Do you think everyone is a stalker?”
“In her bedroom?” he asks. He doesn’t know the answer to this one.
I decide to do him this favor. “There is, but you’re not getting access to her home system. I’ll send you screenshots whenever you want. You know it's not morally right to watch a young girl’s private space.”
He raises a brow. “Why is this giving me the hint that there are cameras in her bathroom?”
I roll my eyes. “Do I look like a creep to you? Come on, man. I’m not a cheap stalker.”
He nods. “In her closet?”
I laugh.
I had put a few in her closet. It’s one of my favorite spots.
I like to watch her there while she’s picking her outfit.
It's always a refreshing experience. She shows a good range of emotions in that space—sometimes confused, sometimes annoyed, sometimes tired.
Talking to herself while matching her top with her bottoms, or discussing the weather with herself.
Never once have I watched her without clothes. Or at least without her bra and panties. I don't want to spoil the experience of watching her naked in front of me, in my bed, under me. The imagination is enough to give me a hard dick.
Imagination and anticipation.
Anticipation of getting what's mine.
That has always been mine.