Chapter Seven.

ELOISE POV:

I clasped my hand against my lips as I sucked in a deep breath.

I shouldn't laugh but I can't help it.

"What are you doing down here by this time of the night?" He demanded in a deep growl, and an amused smile curled on my lips, seeing how hard he tried to straighten himself and act cold towards me after I had caught him red-handed while doing the unthinkable!

"Shouldn't that be directed to you?" I smirked, my arms folded across my chest as I walked up to him in the middle of the kitchen. "What are you up to by this time of the night?"

"It's none of your business." He snapped, irritated.

"Just turn around and take your nosey ass back upstairs to your bedroom. I wouldn't take it easy on you if anything happens to my child." He warned, giving me a tough glare as he balled his fists on the counter where he was making the sandwich. His knuckles were balled so hard that they turned pure white.

That simple reaction from him could have freaked me out or terrified me because of the dangerous demeanor he was always exuding, but I found myself shaking my head with a smile on my face.

"Don't use my child as a threat just to scare me away, Mr. Romano." I clicked my tongue, trying to piss him off some more. It was my way of getting back at him for insisting that I put on a maternity gown every damned fucking day.

"From what I can see here, you're clearly struggling to make a sandwich. This could easily make the headlines and trending topics if any news reporter managed to hear of this and get their hands on some snap-shots of you in this kitchen right now," I taunted with a smirk.

I could see how much effect my words had on him as he grinded hard on his jaw, his piercing gaze staring into my soul like the tip of a sword into the heart of a human, his lips pressed into a thin line while his fists trembled on the counter.

"Get out of here, Eloise." He growled but I didn't move an inch. I was being hard-headed.

"I wouldn't want to lose it and harm you because, in return, I won't be harming just you, but my child would be included. So for the sake of whatever thing you serve, get the fuck off!" He growled louder this time, his tone threatening but I ignored it.

My gaze swept across the counter, and I frowned when I saw his MacBook there with a cooking video on how to make a sandwich playing on the screen, but the speaker was low because it wasn't so audible. I was barely hearing a thing.

"You're seriously watching a YT video on how to make it a sandwich?" I was stunned, not expecting him to go this far for a simple snack that was one of the easiest and quickest things to make in the middle of the night when you're about to die out of hunger or searching for something mouth-watering to chew on before the daybreak.

I arched an eyebrow at him, "How much more incompetent can the CEO Dante Romano be in making an easy-peasy sandwich? Hell no, don't tell me it's damn hard for you because that would be enough reason for me to laugh my ass out in the middle of the night."

He tilted his head to the side a bit, his eyes sharp and daring with something more to it.

"You wouldn't dare, but you can try," He said, his tone edged with an undeniable threat.

I scoffed, forcing a laugh that refused to come out as a real laughter. "I won't." I refused to be a scapegoat.

"Good." He said then gestured to the exit of the kitchen. "Now turn around quietly like the good girl that you are and go back up to your room while acting like you saw nothing. In fact, you didn't see shit. I don't want to get this encounter we had from anyone else other than us. It should stay within this kitchen, you hear me?"

I swallowed, blinking my eyes at him, and then I slowly averted them away from him because I knew I couldn't do it.

I was not only surprised that he actually wanted me to keep this a secret, but because I knew it would be too tough to do so. I couldn't make a promise that I wouldn't keep.

Tell me why was he so scared of getting out in the open. This was too rare and amusing to keep a secret. I needed someone to share it with and Ivy was the only perfect person I could think of.

Suddenly, I felt a grip on my jaw as he raised my gaze up to his level; I could see his eyes burning with such intensity in them that I didn't know when fear managed to slip into my heart as a shiver crawled down my spine.

Oh no, I must've crossed the line.

I trembled, watching him lower his towering height down to my level and then he whispered into the shell of my ear, his breath cool and burning at the same time against my skin.

"Don't dare act fool, little brat. I asked you a question and I deserve an answer." He gritted.

"Y-yes. I promise. This would remain hidden in this kitchen. I won't tell anyone. Not even Claire and Ivy." I said quickly, and his grip loosened on my jaw before his hand fell to his side. I breathed a sigh of relief but jerked up when I felt his hand patting my head.

"Good girl," he praised then tucked his hands into his pants. "Now do the needful, Little one." He said, and I immediately turned around, about to sprint past the door, when his voice halted me in my tracks, my foot dangling in the air.

I slowly turned to him as I swallowed hard, my gaze on the floor while my heart was beating fast in my chest and eardrums.

"Huh?" I didn't hear him the first time, or maybe I did but I refused to believe what I heard. Maybe I heard wrong.

"Let's have a cook-off to know who is better at making this..." He raised a slice of bread up in the air and then dropped it back on the counter as he dusted his palm as if he had just touched dirt before he began walking up to me with precise strides, his gaze locked onto mine.

"I can't let you walk off with the impression that I am horrible at making a sandwich because I know that I am not," He said confidently.

"It's just that it has been a while since I made anything in the kitchen. If you feel this man here is an 'Incompetent CEO', then watch him as he proves you wrong and makes sure you have your head bowed to the ground in shame by the time he defeats you in this cook-off. You're in?" He asked proudly, as he could already see his victory at the end of the tunnel as he brought forth his hand.

Meanwhile, I stared down at his hand, wondering if I should take up this challenge.

I should probably just fall back and tell him I don't want to but my eyes began to sparkle with interest.

I grinned from ear to ear as I clasped my hand with his in a handshake. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Good." He smirked. "In return, the winner would be allowed to ask for whatever from the loser. Sadly for you, I don't think you have much to offer because I could see you losing already."

"Well, don't you think you shouldn't jump to conclusions this soon, Mr. Romano?" I smiled.

"True, but one thing I know for sure is that I am always right." He said with a knowing look and I shrugged my shoulders.

Dante set the timer and then we began our cook-off.

By the time we were done, It turned out to end in a ridiculous mess, but not on my side because I won.

The loser here currently has lettuce in his hair and all over the side of the counter where he was making his own sandwich.

I was laughing so hard that I almost cried.