I want to argue but my stomach growls again and he raises an eyebrow in that annoying way he has, so I pick up the fork and start eating. The chicken is perfect, seasoned with herbs, and the bread is still warm.
“This is good,” I admit between bites.
“I’ll tell the chef you approve.”
“You have a chef?”
“I have a lot of things.” He’s watching me eat with an expression I can’t read. “Staff, security, laboratories. All the trappings of a life most people would kill for.”
“Most people aren’t prisoners.”
“No,” he agrees. “They’re not.”
I finish half the plate before I slow down, suddenly aware of how intensely he’s watching me.
“Stop staring at me.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You’re absolutely staring.”
“I’m observing.” His mouth curves slightly. “There’s a difference.”
“Observing what? The way I chew?”
“The way you eat when you’re distracted.” He leans back slightly, arms crossed. “You take smaller bites when you’re thinking about something else. Bigger ones when you’re fully present.”
“That’s creepy.”
“That’s attention.” He tilts his head. “Most people don’t notice things like that.”
“Most people aren’t Bratva princes with control issues.”
“Probably not.”
I push the plate away, suddenly too aware of how close he’s sitting. The lab feels smaller with him in it.
“I found something,” I say, because talking about chemistry is safer than whatever this is.
“Tell me.”
I turn the screen toward him and walk him through the synthesis routes, expecting his eyes to glaze over the way most people’s do when I start talking about receptor binding and metabolic pathways. But he asks questions. Good ones.
“This third route,” he says when I finish. “The experimental one. Why do you think it would be more effective?”
“Because it doesn’t just block the compound. It reverses the damage already done.” I trace the molecular structure on the screen. “Most antidotes are reactive. This would be restorative.Big difference in outcome for patients who’ve already started metabolizing the drug.”
“How long to synthesize it?”
“Weeks. Maybe months. I’d need to run preliminary tests first, make sure the theory holds up in practice.”
“Whatever you need.” He stands, and suddenly he’s close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look at him. “Equipment, reagents, time. Ask and it’s yours.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He goes still. “Nice?”
“Last night you whipped me with a belt.” I stand too, refusing to let him tower over me. “Today you’re building me laboratories and bringing me dinner and acting like—” I wave my hand between us. “Like this.”
