chapter 8
Iselyn
I come out of my room after changing. He is sitting in the living room; Avi is nowhere in sight.
“Where is Avi?” I ask, walking towards him.
He gets up from the couch. “She’s gone with her security.”
“Then why are you here?” I frown.
He tilts his head to the side. “I ate your breakfast, now I’m feeling guilty. I want to bring you breakfast,” he says sincerely.
Such a good man.
“No need,” I say, advancing to the door.
He follows me outside to the elevator area.
I press the button for the ground floor on the elevator system screen; it asks me to wait for the third.
Soon after, Eva and Parth arrive. They are a husband and wife in their mid-forties who live in the apartment opposite mine.
I have a hi-hello kind of relationship with them, and I smile when they smile at me.
Matleon stands leaning against the wall, watching me without even attempting to hide his stare, even when we are not alone. I don’t think this man knows any manners. His mother and father are such good people, who did he take after?
Eva looks toward Matleon and smiles at me. “Your boyfriend seems quite smitten by you,” she chuckles. “Can’t even take his eyes off you.”
I give her a polite chuckle in return, letting her misunderstand the situation.
What could I say? That he isn’t my boyfriend but still stares at me like a pervert, and I let him do as he pleases?
She would give me concerned lectures about complaining to the police.
How could I explain that the police wouldn’t do anything about it?
In the end, telling the truth would only lead to more lies.
The elevator arrives, and all four of us step inside. Matleon wraps his arm around my shoulder, grinning at me. Eva watches us with a sweet smile. I smile back at Matleon, he knows exactly how to take advantage of a situation. He leans down and kisses my cheek.
I ignore the effect of his kiss in my head, but my face still betrays me—turning red.
We reach the ground floor. As the elevator doors open, we step out, following Eva and Parth. Matleon is still glued to my side, squeezing every possible benefit from the situation, because that’s exactly who he is.
I jab my elbow into his stomach. He hums in satisfaction, leaving me grinding my teeth.
I look up at him. “What are you, a masochist?”
He grins. “Not outside the bed.”
I frown. “So… you’re a sexual masochist?”
We stop near a car. He traps me between the car and himself, arms beside my shoulders, hands braced on the car.
I watch him, pressing my back against the cold metal, waiting for his answer.
I don’t know why I’m so eager to know, it’s not like I’m going to have sex with him.
My goosebumps rise at my own thoughts. No, they’re from the cold wind, not my thoughts.
“I don’t know. I’ve never explored that,” he says, leaning slightly closer. “But if you want to know, I’m ready to cooperate.”
He lowers his arm and takes my hand. “Shall we go back to your apartment?”
I yank my hand away. “Go to hell.”
He opens the car’s rear door for me, posing like a gentleman, and extends his hand. “Please.”
I sit inside the car without touching his hand. He sits on the other side, the car starts as soon as he settles in. I look toward him. “Matleon, didn’t you promise my papa that you would stay away from me?”
“I’m staying away from you. The situation just forced me to come closer,” he says in a serious tone.
“What situation is there?” I glance out the window. We’re on our way to the university.
“Your life is in danger,” he says, passing me a wrapped sandwich.
I listen to my hungry stomach and take it from him. “Since when is my life in danger?” I unwrap the sandwich and take a bite. I can’t buy his nonsense.
“Someone tried to enter your apartment last night.”
“And you think I’ll believe such low-standard lies?” I say, gulping down my bite. The sandwich is delicious. I want to eat a few more just like it while I’m here.
“Which restaurant did you order this from?” I ask him.
He smiles. “It’s my recipe. My chef prepared it.”
I take another mouthful, savoring the flavors. This is the first and last time I’ll eat it. I try to identify the ingredients, mentally noting what I could adjust to replicate the taste. I could ask him for the recipe, but there’s no way I’ll take that hit on my ego.
He passes me his phone, a security camera footage playing on the screen. It’s footage from outside my apartment. My chewing stops midway when I see a man wearing a black hoodie and a mask trying to break down my apartment door.
I gulp down the half-chewed bite. My stomach churns, filling with a sick mix of fear and anger.
“Who is he?”
“Someone who wanted to kill you.”
“Where is he?”
“Floating in the East River. He was just a pawn, sent on a suicide mission.”
“How do you know about it?”
“I’m in charge of your security, Angel. Who would know if not me?”
“When did this happen?”
“The night before last.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me until now?”
“I was investigating the matter. I couldn’t come and bother you over a small robbery attempt.”
Since when has he become so considerate? I narrow my eyes. “Is this some kind of play staged by you?”
He raises a brow. “Why would I do something like that?”
He looks honest. Serious. But I would trust Satan before I trust him, if they aren’t the same entity already.
“No one has any reason to target me. My father’s enemies are long dead. My uncle’s and my brother’s enemies don’t even know me. I don’t have enemies of my own, at least none serious enough to send someone to kill me. Give me one reason to believe all this.”
“You don’t have enemies,” he says calmly, “but you do have a friend.”
He looks at me then. A dark glint passes through his eyes, and I know exactly which friend he’s talking about.
My brows pull together. “Dex would never do something like this.”
He smirks, but there’s no amusement in it. If anything, that slight curve of his lips looks like a grim reaper’s expression right before he takes a soul. I’ve never seen one, but after watching Matleon, I can imagine exactly how every such entity must look when they decide someone’s time is up.
“You trust him more than me.”
“It’s not about who I trust more. Even if my father had been at your place, I would have said the same thing.
Because I know Dex is not the type of person who kills people like you guys, and he has no reason to kill me.
If he had plans to kill, he would never have arranged to leave the testing of his medicines on me. ”
I hate that I have to explain all this to this evil psychopath.
“When did I say it’s him who is behind this?”
I look at him, dumbfounded. He continues, “It’s his stepbrother. And why he wants you dead, I’ll need to ask your friend.” He puts a subtle emphasis on friend.
“I will ask him. You don’t need to waste your time over this trivial matter.”
“It’s not a trivial matter, Angel. Someone attacking you can never be a trivial matter,” he says, his tone serious this time, devoid of any trace of humor.
I open my mouth to protest his use of the nickname. He always drives me crazy with it. Until now, I’ve never had the chance to ask him to stop using nicknames, like we’re close when in reality, we’re worse than strangers. But before I can speak, the car stops.
I glance outside and realize we’ve already arrived at the university.
It’s still early, well before classes start. The car has pulled up in front of the hostel where I used to stay. We step out. I don’t even need to ask him, I know we’re here to meet Dex.
“How do you know he’s here?”
He puts on his sunglasses and smirks. That’s the only answer I get. I roll my eyes and walk in with him.
He stops in front of Dex’s room and knocks. A mix of wonder and anger stirs inside me at his professional-level stalking abilities. He doesn’t just keep an eye on me, he watches my friend too. And I’m sure that if I had more friends, every single one of them would be under his visual radar as well.
Dex opens the door and looks from Matleon to me.
Matleon extends his hand. “Hi, I’m Matleon, Iselyn’s boyfriend.”
I stare at him with furrowed brows and my mouth half open. Since when did he become my boyfriend? Whatever. Let him enjoy his moment. I’ll explain it to Dex later.
Dex shakes his hand. “Hello. I’m Dexter Walker.”
Matleon takes his hand firmly, then slips his other hand into the pocket of his trousers. “I have something to discuss with you, Mr. Walker.”
Dex nods. “Please, come inside.”
I silently praise Dex for not wavering or looking intimidated in Matleon’s presence.
It’s not something everyone can manage. Matleon has a presence that presses down on the air itself, not just because of his six-foot-four height or his broad, building-wide body, but because of the power he radiates.
The confidence he carries feels absolute, as if every inch of ground he walks on already belongs to him.
He doesn’t need to introduce himself as the heir to America’s underworld.
You just know. He’s the kind of man no one even thinks about standing against.
Matleon takes a seat on the chair. I remain standing beside him. If anything happens, if he decides to pull a gun on Dex, I’ll be close enough to stop him. His weapon would be near my thigh if I stood any closer.
“Your stepbrother tried to attack Iselyn.”
He says my name very deliberately. Most people drop the ‘e’ in pronunciation.
My family usually calls me Lyn, and when they speak my full name, it’s always soft, almost tender.
But Matleon speaks it with weight in every syllable, like he’s naming a powerful figure.
It feels strange, considering my position beside him, I’m nothing powerful.
“When?” Dex asks, glancing toward me with concern.
“In the night. His man tried to break into her apartment.”
“I’m sorry, Lyn.”
“It’s okay, Dex. I’m fine. Nothing serious happened.” I try to ease his worry.
“Why, Mr. Walker?”
Dex shakes his head. “I have no idea why he would do that.”
Matleon nods. “If you are in touch with him, tell him this: he is only moments away from his death. And if not, then I offer my condolences in advance.”
Dex nods, frowning.
Matleon gets up, and the room seems to shrink under his enormous presence.
“I hope you are not involved in this,” he says, glancing at me.
Because of his sunglasses, I cannot see his eyes, and without that, I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
His serious face gives away nothing. He never overacts when he’s with others.
“Or someone will have to lose a very important friend.” He ends the sentence with a smile that sends a chill running down my spine.
He leaves the room. So he came here just to threaten Dex. I turn to him.
“He is not my boyfriend.”
Dex smiles faintly. “Seems like you’re not going to get much of a say in it.” His smile fades, replaced by a frown. “He seems… quite a powerful man. Who is he?”
I clear my throat. “Do you know King Alessio?” I have a feeling many people know Uncle Alessio.
Dex nods, his frown deepening. “Is he real? Many people say he’s the man who truly runs the U.S., with the president as his puppet, the real power controlling this country, and the entire continent. They call him…”
I finish for him, “The King of the Underworld.”
He nods, stunned.
“He is real, and Matleon is his son.”
Dex’s eyes widen. I chuckle. I’ve finally managed to shock him. When I told him I’m the daughter of Russia’s president’s brother, he wasn’t shocked. He only had a moment of disbelief.
“Wait,” he says urgently, then starts interacting with his light holographic interface.
After two minutes, he turns toward me with an even more confused look on his face. “Your boyfriend is the new investor in my startup. He is the owner of KATN. That’s why his name sounded familiar.”
I tilt my head, my brows knitting in a frown.
Dex got a new investor four days ago from an investing organization that funded his startup, which he desperately needed.
I had also proposed asking my dad to invest, but he refused.
Dex needed huge funding, or else I would have done it myself from my pocket money, which I’ve never needed to use before.
But the point here is, why is Matleon doing this? He never does anything without a reason. Is this to keep Dex under his favor?
Having investment from KATN means Dex’s business is guaranteed to succeed.
It’s the biggest advertisement. If KATN finds you good enough to invest, you are instantly recognized as one of the best in the market.
His customer base has also grown overnight after that.
He is now under immense work pressure to meet the demands, but that’s exactly what he wanted.
“You want me to talk to him about it?” I ask.
He nods. “I want to know if he invested because he likes my work or just because I’m your friend.”
I nod.