chapter 12
Iselyn
“You will be staying with me.”
I frown. All the good feelings of gratitude vanish, replaced by the first rise of anger. “Who decides that without asking me?”
“Your father and I. Two people concerned about your safety. There is no choice for you in this matter, you couldn’t say no.”
“But what’s wrong with my apartment? It’s perfectly safe.”
“It lacks advanced security systems. It can do nothing if someone decides to drop a very powerful bomb on you.”
My frown deepens, hurting my forehead. “Are you even listening to yourself? Who would drop a bomb on me?”
He shrugs. “Maybe some step-relative of your good friend. Who knows? The danger is unknown. We don’t know which relative of your friend might decide to kill you. So, for the time being, you will be staying with me.”
“You are taking advantage of the situation,” I grit.
He smirks. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t.”
The car pulls into his parking. I get down, following him. “I don’t have my things here,” I tell him, walking toward the elevator.
“You will get them in an hour.”
I enter the elevator with him. “I don’t want other people touching my things.”
He nods. “Neither do I. That’s why robots will pack your things.”
I open my mouth to say something but, unable to find words, close it again.
The elevator door opens in front of his penthouse. It scans his face and opens automatically.
“Your things, along with your new phone, will reach here in an hour. In the meantime, you could take a shower. I’ll prepare something to eat for you,” he says, walking around the kitchen counter.
“You don’t have to cook for me. I will cook my own food.” I stand in front of him on the other side of the counter. “I will talk with my papa. And if he insists on me staying here, then it’s better that we make some rules.”
He raises one brow slightly. “Go on.”
“You and I are not friends, so we are not cooking for each other. And there is no meddling in each other’s life.”
He crosses his arms and watches me with a serious face, then smiles as if amused by some of his own thoughts. “Alright. As you wish.”
I nod and point toward the room downstairs. When Wen and Avi were here, it was occupied by Wen; now it’s free to use. Since Matleon’s bedroom is upstairs, I would very much like to stay in this room.
“I’ll stay in this room.”
He nods. I turn and walk toward it.
It’s not a very big room, just a cozy space with a bed and a couch.
Upstairs are three rooms: one is Matleon’s, one is Zo’s, and another is a free room like this one.
There is no balcony in this room; the free room upstairs has one, but I can’t stay right in front of Matleon just for the sake of having a balcony.
I enter the bathroom, remove my clothes, fill the tub with hot water, and settle in it.
Everything that happened tonight roams through my mind.
I want to check on Dex, but without any phone, it can’t be done.
I should have kept my phone in my trouser pocket instead of leaving it on the table.
Next time, I’ll make sure my phone is a high priority.
I stay in the tub for more than half an hour, if my estimation is right.
I come out wearing a bathrobe. I enter the closet, Wen must have left some of her clothes here.
I hope so, because I’m hungry and I don’t want to go out in just this bathrobe, which is already showing a good amount of my breasts.
I’m already blessed in this part of my body, and this robe isn’t helping much.
The closet is as clean as if no one has ever entered this room. My stomach lets out an angry growl. I wrap the robe more tightly, but it’s still putting on quite a show.
“Come on, Iselyn, women out there roam with only nipple patches, and here you are worrying about just showing a little of your midsection.”
This thought comes mainly because I’ve never worn anything with a deep neckline. A deep V-neck blouse could put on far more show than this. I decide to ignore it and walk out of the closet, then out of the room. I pause for a second when I spot Matleon in the kitchen but then resume walking.
He lifts his head from the pan, and his eyes go straight to my cleavage. He keeps staring—I think this is called ogling—while tossing vegetables in the pan.
Matleon is an uncivilized man. End of story.
I ignore him and head to the fridge. I open it, retrieving a box of bread, then scan for a jar of jam or something similar.
I’m in the mood for a simple meal, and this will do.
My gaze lands on a jar of basil pesto. I lift it out and stride toward the toaster, positioned near the stove where Matleon is working.
I put the bread in the toaster, my eyes drifting to his pan. The delicious smell of stir-fried veggies fills my nose, I gulp down the saliva pooling in my mouth—once, twice, thrice. Then Matleon chuckles. I look away from his food and focus on my bread.
And then he puts noodles in his pan. The aroma changes instantly, even more tempting.
Avi had told me once that she and Matleon are Chinese cuisine lovers, they could eat Chinese food from morning to night.
That’s the only thing they have in common, apart from their mutual dislike for each other, mainly because of their shared love interest, Zo.
It was her words; she always calls Matleon Zo’s husband.
I toast my breads, place them on a plate with a dip of basil pesto, and sit down at the table. My plate looks so malnourished compared to Matleon’s, who is sitting two chairs away at the head of the table.
I take a bite and chew it like I’m gnawing on grass, all the while eyeing his noodles.
What would have gone wrong if I had accepted his offer to cook for me? I’m already in a huge debt to him for saving me twice, a little debt for eating food he cooked wouldn’t have mattered. But my ego demands its boost, so I stick to my stubborn stance. Now suffer.
I take another frustrated bite, my face twisting at the bland taste. Italians would probably kill me for calling basil pesto bland.
“I cooked extra. If you want, you could give it a try, or I’ll have to throw it away anyway,” Matleon drawls.
I don’t wait another second and grab the bowl of extra noodles.
“You should not throw food,” I say, rolling too many noodles around my fork and stuffing them into my mouth.
The flavors and juiciness explode on my tongue, and my eyes close as I chew slowly.
It’s so delicious that I almost moan out of satisfaction.
When I open my eyes, I notice Matleon watching me from the corner of my vision. I compose myself and start eating with the elegance Nana has been teaching me since I was two years old.
He’s still watching me, not eating. I take a quick glance at his plate, which still has noodles.
Now he’s making me uncomfortable. I take another bite, shorter this time.
He resumes eating as well, loosening the tension just slightly.
The tension can never truly vanish as long as Matleon is in the room.
Just as I finish, the penthouse door opens. A man in his thirties enters with three robots, carrying what I assume are my things.
“He is Viki,” Matleon says.
Viki smiles. “Nice to meet you, Miss Mikhailov.”
I nod, returning his smile.
“Have her luggage arranged in the room downstairs,” Matleon instructs.
Viki nods, passes a phone to Matleon, and then leaves toward the room with his robots.
Matleon passes the phone to me. Everyone in my family—and their extended family—uses custom-made phones, or things could get really difficult.
The Mikhailovs have their own people to make their phones, and I’ve been using one of theirs like everyone else in my family.
This one is different. People in Matleon’s family use phones made under Zo’s supervision.
I open it; the interface is different from mine, and it feels strangely unfamiliar.
I enter my IDs and start retrieving all my data from my previous phone.
When I look up after getting it all done, I find Matleon watching me. I shift uncomfortably in my chair.
He smirks. “Congratulations, Angel. You’ve successfully seduced me.”
My lips part at his words. As the shock settles, my face starts heating with a mixture of anger and… something useless.
I frown. “I’m not seducing you. You’re the one getting carried away all on your own.”
His gaze moves slowly down my face, to my neck, and then to my breasts. I feel the robe tightening and loosening at the same time.
“You’re a pervert, Matleon. I will tell my papa about your behavior, and let’s see what he has to say about me staying in your goddamn house,” I hiss.
He chuckles, meeting my eyes with his dark, intense gaze. “Go ahead, Angel. Tell your papa and your whole family.”
He gets up from his chair and approaches me. I also rise. He stands in front of me, facing me, the nasty smirk never leaving his face. He lifts my chin with one finger. I clench my jaw and slap his finger away. His smirk widens, and in the next moment, he grabs my jaw.
Now I know what will happen next. I could try to force his hand away, but he won’t relent; his grip would only tighten. So I do nothing. I simply stand there, letting him dictate the moment.
He leans down. “Tell the entire world, Angel…” His hands travel to my waist, pulling me inexorably toward him. “That Matleon wants to fuck you.” He whispers, looking straight into my eyes. His hardness presses firmly against my belly.
My heart is beating so loudly, I don’t think it ever raced this much, not even when I was holding a gun, ready to kill.
It feels like my blood has ignited, coursing through my veins just to make me feel as if I’m standing in the middle of a wildfire.
No—not a wildfire. The fire of hell. You can only feel the heat of hell’s fire when you are in the devil’s arms.
“I won’t stay in your house, Matleon, if these are your intentions,” I mutter. I had planned to shout these words, but with his face this close, it’s impossible to even speak.
He runs his thumb over my cheek. I know I must be blushing right now.
I always do when I’m angry, and I’m angry.
So angry that my heart feels on the verge of bursting from overwork, my lungs constricting like there’s not enough air in the world for them.
This is anger, a new kind of anger, I tell myself, one I’ve never felt before.
And then it’s gone. Not the new kind of anger, but Matleon. He frees me completely, stepping two feet back with his hands in his pants pockets. His eyes roam over my face, admiration written plainly in his expression.
“If you are going to live in New York, you will live in this house. Or you can leave for Vlad,” he says calmly, certain in every word.
I purse my lips. “We will see.”
Viki comes out of my room. I don’t waste another second.
I take a deep breath, cast a quick glance at Matleon, and make my way to my room.
The first thing I do is get dressed. I open the bag of my undergarments, pick out a pair of panties, wear them, then change into pajamas and step out of the closet.
I lay down on the bed and make a call to Dex.
He picks up after a few rings.
“Hello, Dex. It’s Iselyn.”
“Hey, Lyn. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you? Have you reached your place safely?”
He hums. “I’m also fine.”
I sigh in relief. “I was just worried about you. It was your stepmother behind that attack.”
He replies in a hard tone, “I know.”
I sigh again. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
“See you soon.”
He hums again. “See you soon,” then disconnects the call.
I open my phone again and search for my papa’s number.
My thumb hovers over the call icon. I chew on my lower lip, debating with myself whether to make the call or not.
I know my father’s nature very well, he will not let me stay alone after today’s incident.
He will force me to come back if I refuse to stay with Matleon.
And I can’t leave yet; Dex’s medicine is very important.
My father, however, will not see the importance in it.
For him, no one’s life matters more than mine and Mom’s.
I close the phone and place it beside me, turning off the light and closing my eyes. I will put up with Matleon for two weeks. I won’t even show him my face. I’ll wake up early, leave for college, eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner outside. I will only come here to sleep.