I nod, turning with him as I take in the building before me. Well looked after with manicured lawns and pruned hedges and trees. It’s much smaller than the estate back home, much more modern too. He opens the front door, gesturing for me to enter before him and I’m struck stupid by how different it is to Silver Lake Estate.
“Is this place yours?”
“Yes.” The door clicks closed behind him.
The entire downstairs is open space, to the left is a den, a huge sectional sofa sits facing windows that look out onto the ocean, a large TV on the wall with abstract art in blues and greys and soft yellows framing it. Greenery has been scattered throughout, givingcolor to the otherwise white décor. But while everything is light and white, it’s not sterile. Little blooms of color break it all up, like the plants and the art, bright orange cushions set up like a little reading nook in front of some shelves in the corner. A large kitchen is directly opposite the living room, white cabinets and grey countertops, the appliances matching with an oak dining table set up in front of the windows. Beyond that, there’s another smaller couch and coffee table, a bar stocked completely and a set of double doors that lead out onto a terrace. An infinity pool glimmers as the sunlight bounces off the top of the water and the garden beyond is set in tiers. I can’t see it all from here, but I can see a sun deck, a jacuzzi and a hammock that swings between two palms.
“This way,” Malakai guides me toward those doors, keeping quiet since it’s fairly obvious what is what without pointing it out. We stop at a door I hadn’t noticed, and he opens it to reveal a large bathroom, including a walk-in shower and clawfoot tub but we don’t linger, and we don’t go outside. He guides me to the wide staircase, the railings made of glass and silently we walk up.
There are two bedrooms, the master suite that looks out onto the sea with an ensuite and a smaller one across the way which only has a bed and desk in it, the space clearly used the least.
“This is modest for you,” I point out, unable to stop comparing it to the estate.
He quirks his mouth into a smile as he hauls our case onto the bed, unzipping it.
“If I had a choice,” He starts to unpack everything inside, folding it neatly into piles onto the sheets. I don’t comment on the amount of clothes he’s packed for me even though he’s brought enough for a week. “I would not have chosen Silver Lake as a home base. But it has been in my family for generations, and I have a strange fondness for the place.”
“It’s your family home,” I cross to him to help with unpacking, “It’s not strange to be fond of it. It’s like the hotel, I used to hate going as a child. All the gold and red, I just didn’t like it but now as an adult, I walk through the doors, and it feels a little bit like home there. Even if I loathe the color scheme.”
“Why not change it?” He asks. “It is your hotel now.”
“I’ve thought about it,” I admit, “But it feels like erasing parts of my history. My family’s history.”
Something uneasy stirs in my gut as I remember the man before me had a part in erasing some of that history. My father died because of his actions.
I roll my shoulders, trying to shift the tension that’s suddenly formed.
And as if he can sense where my thoughts have gone, he steps closer, “I had a hand in your fathers’ death.”
My nostrils flare as tears sting my eyes.
“Apologies don’t change what’s happened.” I say, “my father died because of whatever game you were playing at the time, I know you didn’t pull the trigger but every event after that was orchestrated by you.”
Sorrow twists his face, there one minute, gone the next, “I don’t make decisions lightly.” His voice holds no emotion, it’s flat and steady, “The choices Imake are to protect my organization and everyone within it. It is to ensure my legacy.”
I scoff, “The choices you make kill people.”
“Let’s not pretend your father was innocent here,” Malakai glares at me, “He hired one of my best killers to take me out.”
My sister’s new boyfriend he means.
“So, you got there first.”
“His life or mine, I chose mine.” He says it so simply, so easily.
“Have you never thought about anyone but yourself?” I snap, “About the lives your choices effect?”
“No.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by the answer, I really shouldn’t have, but that’s sadness weighing down my chest. I am in love with a monster. Could he ever love me back?
His selfish thinking suggests not, but what about the man I’ve seen beneath this cold exterior I’m seeing right now. That man isn’t selfish.
That man saved me when I was attacked. Supported me when I chose to defend myself. Sat with me in a hospital and never left.
“I think that’s a lie.” I pick up my pile of clothes and head to the drawers, “I think you pretend not to care but you do. I just don’t understand why you hide it.”
“I don’t hide from you.” I hear his whisper though I’m not sure he intended for me to.
