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?”
