Chapter 19

*Laurie*

I felt a flutter of emotions in my chest. Without lifting a finger, Theron snapped his attention toward a nearby server.

The man moved like he’d been waiting for that look. Within seconds, the table before us transformed. Silver trays were uncovered one by one, revealing a spread that looked too decadent to be real.

Seared duck glazed in honey and wine reduction. Saffron-infused risotto that shimmered like gold. Cracked lobster tails resting on beds of truffle cream. Sticky rice, Fresh bread still warm, steam rising like temptation itself. Everything was richhh.

I stared. Then blinked. “Are you trying to bribe me with food?”

Theron leaned in, close enough that his breath grazed my neck.

“I don’t bribe,” he whispered. “I indulge.” My pulse jumped.

He reached forward, slicing a piece of duck and offering it on a silver fork. “Open.”

I hesitated only for a second.

Then, slowly, I parted my lips.

The flavor was exquisite. Sweet, smoky, and soft. It melted on my tongue. I chewed and swallowed, unsure whether the warmth in my chest came from the food… or from the man feeding it to me.

“You like it?” he asked, voice low.

I nodded, refusing to look at him as I reached for a piece of bread to distract myself.

Theron didn’t press. He just sat back, watching me eat with the same intensity he brought into a room. And for the first time since arriving, I stopped thinking about who might be watching.

Because the truth was... There was only one man I couldn’t look away from. And he was sitting right beside me, feeding me like I already belonged to him. Well, speaking technically, I already belonged to him.

I didn’t hold back from devouring the feast. I ate with unashamed hunger, savoring every bite like I hadn’t tasted real food in weeks. Which, considering what the last few days had felt like, wasn’t entirely untrue. I was to enjoy the meal Theron offered at his home but he had to ruin the mood.

Warm bread tore apart in my fingers, buttery and soft. The risotto was golden, delicate, and melted in my mouth. I sucked the meat from the lobster shell without the pretense of elegance. The duck that was sweet and glazed with perfection was gone in minutes. I didn’t bother with small bites or polite nibbles. Maybe someday later but not tonight

Let them stare and judge. I didn’t care. Not about the glittering women across the room in their diamonds, and not about the suited men pretending not to glance our way.

When I was done, I wiped my fingers neatly and lifted the cool glass of water to my lips. The rim kissed my mouth as I drank a long, slow sip to soothe the fire in my chest. Then I set the glass down with a sigh.

This meal could pass as a 100/10. Just perfect. I turned to Theron, only to find him staring amusingly at me.

He tilted his head to the side, his voice a purr. “You’re really full?”

I nodded, eyes half-lidded, the warmth from the food and wine still crawling under my skin.

He didn’t move immediately. He just stared for a few heartbeats more, as if etching the image into his memory.

Then, without a word, he rose from his chair and extended a hand.

“Come.”

His fingers brushed mine. I slipped into his grip, and he helped me up like I was made of silk and glass. My heels clicked softly against the polished floor as he guided me out of the room, one hand still protectively at my back.

We arrived in front of the building where his car was already packed. He opened the front passenger seat door and gestured for me to get inside.

Fuck! Is this man going to drive? What happened to the driver who drove earlier? And just like that, he closed my door, pushed open the driver's seat, and slid in.

The city lights glittered beyond the estate walls, and the distant sounds of clinking glasses and chamber music faded behind us.

The world felt quieter here.

“Where are we going?” I asked. We had spent roughly two hours in that hall, so it should be around 11pm.

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he looked down at me, the shadows casting sharp angles across his perfect, cruel face.

“Somewhere.”

He grinned from ear to ear. My heart shook violently. What in hell is wrong with this man? That grin was scary!!

I watched as Theron’s fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel.

I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going through his mind. The quiet hum of the engine was the only sound that accompanied the chaos in my chest.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, my curiosity gnawing at me. "You're not the type to give much away, are you?" I asked, keeping my tone light, though I knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

He didn’t immediately respond, his grip tightening on the wheel. For a moment, I thought he might ignore me entirely. But then, his voice broke the silence.

“Why do you think I keep so much to myself?” he asked in a quiet tone, like he was trying to see how I would react.

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat. “I don’t know. Maybe because you enjoy having control over everyone around you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, a sound that sent an odd thrill through me. “Control is necessary,” he said. “Without it, everything falls apart.”

I shifted in my seat, my fingers tightening on the edge of my dress. “So, you think you can control everything?”

“Everyone,” he corrected with a dark smile. “Control is an art, Cookie. And it’s one I’ve mastered. It's why your life is completely messed up. Because you don't have control over anything, not even your thoughts and emotions.”

His words hit me like a blow, but I refused to show it. Instead, I let the tension simmer in the air, letting his words linger between us.

I shifted in my seat again, trying to process what he’d said. *My life is messed up because I lack control?*

His words echoed in my mind, and I wondered; was he right? Was that the reason why everything I tried to venture into turned out to be a failure?

I glanced at him, the dim light from the street lamps casting shadows over his face, but I couldn’t read his expression. He was so damn hard to figure out, always slipping through the cracks of any attempt to understand him.

“Do you always speak in riddles, Theron?” I asked, keeping my voice steady, though something inside me trembled at his dominance.

He didn’t answer immediately, just watched the road ahead with that predatory calm of his. Then, as if it was nothing, he said, “Not riddles, Cookie. Truths. You just have to learn how to recognize them.”