“Apparently not.” I gesture around with my fork. “Why this place?”
“It’s quiet.”
“That’s not an answer.”
His gaze slides past me, quick, scanning the room without turning his head. “It’s the only place where people don’t think they know me.”
I look around. Nobody staring. Nobody whispering. Nobody pretending not to look while they text.
“Not your territory,” I say. “Whose is it?”
His eyes come back to mine. Cold. Flat. “Eat.”
I huff a laugh under my breath and take another bite because pushing him too hard right now will make him shut down and I didn’t come here to babysit his mood.
We eat in a silence that isn’t peaceful. It’s… loaded. Like the tablecloth is hiding a weapon.
Then he breaks it.
“How many bodies do you have?”
I freeze with my fork halfway to my mouth.
His expression is calm, but his eyes glint—small, dangerous. Like he said it just to see what I’d do.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
He leans forward slightly. “Don’t play innocent, Beda.”
My brain does a hard reset.
Bodies.
I swallow. “I think…twenty—”
His brows lift. He blinks once. Then a rough chuckle slips out of him, genuinely caught.
“Twenty?” he says, like the number amused him. “Your number starts with twenty?”
I stare at him. “Are we counting men and women?”
He stills.
“Men and women,” he repeats, slow, like he’s tasting the words.
“Just men then,” I assume, because my mouth is moving faster than my brain and now I’m committed to whatever humiliation this is.
His eyes go darker.“Women?”His voice drops.
I blink. Finally, it clicks.
My face goes hot so fast it’s like someone poured boiling water down my neck.
“Wait,” I say, low and horrified. “Are you talking aboutsex?”
He pauses. Flat stare. “Yes.”
My stomach drops through the floor.
