Nico

"So where is the meal you supposedly prepared?" Alaric asked the moment he stepped fully into the dining area.

His voice still sounded slightly rough from sleep, and unfortunately that only made him more distracting than he already was.

I pointed toward the dining table where the food waited beneath the warm glow of the pendant lights.

The creamy parmesan pasta rested neatly beside the garlic butter steak while the roasted potatoes and sautéed vegetables filled the air with rich scents of rosemary, garlic, and butter.

Alaric said nothing at first.

He simply walked toward the table before pulling out one of the chairs and taking his seat at the head of it like some rich prince preparing for a royal dinner instead of a man wearing sweatpants inside his own penthouse.

Honestly, he somehow managed to make even sitting down look elegant.

I remained standing near the table while watching him quietly.

Alaric glanced toward me before narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Aren’t you going to eat too," he asked suspiciously, "or did you poison the food so you could finally get rid of me properly?"

A laugh escaped me immediately.

"You think I would waste expensive parmesan on murder?"

"You are emotionally unstable enough for it."

"That is rude considering I cooked for you with love."

"I genuinely hope you choke."

I chuckled softly before walking toward him properly.

Then, without warning him, I picked up the fork beside his plate and twirled a small amount of pasta carefully onto it before cutting a piece of steak alongside it.

Alaric immediately frowned at me.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Testing the food," I replied casually.

"With my mouth?"

"Well, I was not planning on using your ears."

"Nico."

I ignored the warning in his voice completely before holding the fork closer toward him.

"Open your mouth."

Alaric stared at me like I had completely lost my mind.

For several seconds, he did not move at all.

Then I smiled slowly at him, deliberately making my expression softer while nudging the fork slightly closer toward his lips.

"Come on, princess," I murmured teasingly. "I spent over an hour cooking this. At least pretend to appreciate my efforts."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously again, but eventually he let out an annoyed sigh before finally opening his mouth enough to take the bite.

And honestly?

Watching Alaric De Villier obediently eat food directly from my hand did something dangerous to my brain.

I tried very hard not to think about that too deeply.

Instead, I leaned lazily against the edge of the table while watching him chew.

"So?" I asked. "How is it?"

Alaric did not answer immediately.

He chewed slowly before his eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise.

And there it was.

The exact reaction I was waiting for.

A smug grin spread instantly across my face.

"How is it?" I repeated proudly.

Alaric swallowed carefully before looking toward me again.

"It is..." He paused briefly like physically admitting the truth caused him pain. "Not bad."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Not bad?"

"I have definitely had better."

"You are a terrible liar."

"I am not lying."

"You literally looked emotionally moved after the first bite."

"That never happened."

"It absolutely happened."

Alaric rolled his eyes dramatically before reaching for his wine glass.

"You are becoming delusional."

"No," I replied while finally taking the seat beside him, "I am simply a phenomenal cook."

"You are unbelievably arrogant."

"And yet you are still eating the food."

"That is because I enjoy surviving."

I scoffed before reaching for my own fork.

"No one cooks better than me," I continued proudly. "Honestly, if Formula One fails one day, I could easily become a professional chef."

Alaric nearly choked on his wine.

"That is genuinely one of the most offensive things you have ever said."

"You just lack vision."

"You lack humility."

"Humility is for people who cannot cook."

Alaric stared at me flatly before taking another bite anyway.

I grinned triumphantly.

"See? You love it."

"I tolerate it."

"You are literally chewing happier."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means your face looks less annoying while eating my food."

"My face always looks beautiful."

I blinked once before pointing my fork toward him dramatically.

"See? That right there is exactly why people think you are insufferable."

"And yet you still followed me into my bedroom earlier just to stare at me sleep."

I nearly dropped my fork.

"That was not what happened."

"You were literally touching my face."

"I was checking if you were alive."

"You sniffed my pillows."

I stared at him in complete horror.

"You were awake for that part?" 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"No," Alaric replied calmly before taking another sip of wine. "But judging by your expression, I assume it happened."

"You are actually evil."

"And you are incredibly embarrassing."

I pointed accusingly toward him.

"You know what? I regret cooking for you."

"Good. Please stop talking now."

I gasped dramatically.

"Did you just tell me to shut up inside your own home after I cooked this masterpiece for you?"

"Yes," Alaric replied immediately. "Because somehow your personality became even more exhausting after winning Bahrain."

"That sounds like jealousy."

"That sounds like me asking for silence."

I burst out laughing while Alaric shook his head tiredly before continuing his food.

Eventually, the conversation faded into something quieter after that.

The penthouse settled into comfortable silence while we ate together beneath the warm lighting of the dining room.

And strangely enough, sitting across from Alaric like this felt dangerously natural.

By the time we finished eating, both plates were nearly empty.

I leaned back slightly in my chair before smiling toward him.

"You know," I said casually while reaching for my wine glass, "Sophia told me creamy parmesan pasta was one of your favorite, so I figured this would be the safest choice."

The moment her name left my mouth, Alaric’s fork slipped from his hand and clattered sharply against the plate.

His expression changed instantly.

The softness disappeared from his face almost immediately as he looked toward me with narrowed eyes.

"So Sophia gave you ideas on what to cook for me?" he asked slowly.

I frowned at him in confusion.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Before I could ask anything else, Alaric leaned back slightly in his chair before speaking again.

"Let me guess," he said coolly, "she also gave you my address?"