Chapter 37

He takes me outside to the interior courtyard with a grandiose geometrically-arranged garden. Astonished by the beauty of the trees within, all planted at equal intervals. The long straight rows of waving branches, the perfect regularity, the rectangular symmetry of the flowerbeds and the sweet fragrance that clings to them. With trellises largely feature as biotic shade; pavilions and walls are also structurally prominent in blocking the sun. Manicured ornamental gardens slope up to the middle. All paths lined with marble sculptures and geometric topiaries, bordered by imposing hedgerows.

"This is place is bigger than I thought," I say dazedly, turning my head to look over his shoulder. "It's like a whole palace. It's beautiful out here."

"Truly remarkable."

My gaze draws back to him. But his eyes are fastened on me, our faces too close for comfort.

He turns his attention ahead, climbing up the steps of the elevated limestone edifice. It's pillared and open like a temple capped with a glass dome ceiling. Sunlight pours down on the table in the centre, cluttered with dishes upon dishes of choice food. But we're not alone, there are four statuesque servers posted between the wide gaps of ancient Greek styled pillars. The inside bright from the floodlit interior, brilliant against the white alabaster.

Finally, he sets me down. I cast my gaze heavenward, looking at the stained glass with exquisite design etchings. I swivel around, hypnotised by the swirling patterns.

"Whoa..."

My gaze levels. Torin's already at the one end of the table. He picks up an accent chair and transports it to other side, placing it down so that's adjacent to the one at the head. Still holding onto it, he points at with his eyes. I round the table, glancing at him before I seat myself down. He pushes the chair in before he settles beside me. Torin beckons a server and gestures to the bottle of Château Margaux. Expensive. She comes over to pop it open and fills our glasses with silky red wine.

"What do you want?"

My eyes gloss over the gourmet selection; the epitome of culinary royalty. But then I realise among the choices are my favourite dishes, from home-styled Italian lasagna to prime dishes I've had abroad. A wonderful smell entices me to look at the juicy plate of duck confit with shallots. Seduced by another scent, I sneak a peek at the lamb ravioli with butter and sage. But I choose the Felicetti spaghetti with cacio cheese and pepper with red prawns.

"Good choice. That flew in fresh from a favourite of mine, the Gritti Palace hotel in Venice. A waterfront restaurant with a spectacular view of the grand canal."

I nod many times. "Wow, sounds very... Italian."

"They make the world's best lasagna."

My eyes snap to him and he shoots me a wink.

"Such a creep," I mutter.

He shakes his head with a chuckle, taking up his glass and drawing a polite sip. "Amore mio bellissimo, I have a file on you. But Orian has an entire folder."

The woman sets down my chosen portion in front of me. I thank her with a smile. Another one follows Torin's direction as he chooses from several dishes. If these foods were fresh imports, which means that they were handpicked by him prior to this royal rendezvous... much thought and time invested in this preparation.

"This is quite... romantic."

He looks up at me, his lips peeling back into a smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't know what you're talking about." He drains half of his wine. "I do this with every one of my kidnapped victims. What, you thought you were special?"

A laugh escapes me. "What a shame." I take up my glass, hiding my smile behind it. "And here I was wanting to skip to dessert."

Torin erects, clutching the arms to push himself up into a straightened stance. "That's good. Since, for you, there's only vanilla on the menu."

I laugh louder, cringing harder. "Now, I lost my appetite."

Torin samples a bite from his meal that sends him in a moaning fit, pointing at it with his spoon. "This..." throwing his head back with another moan, "this is really good."

I furrow my brows at him. "I'm happy for you," I say wryly, rolling up the spaghetti.

"Try it."

"I'm good."

"I don't remember asking."

I drop the fork with a small clang. "What is it?"

"Curried eggplant with smoked cardamom and coconut milk."

"Pass the plate then."

He gathers a small portion and holds up his spoon for me. "Open up."

My brows nearly touch my hairline. "You're kidding?"

He maintains a serious expression. Rolling my eyes, I lean in and he feeds it to me. My eyes widen with euphoria. The medium-spicy chili, merging with the medley of tangy flavours from the diced garlic and cilantro leaves, a fusion of seasoning, tantalizes my taste buds.

I mimic his moan. "Another one."

He pokes a finger at the main dish.

I take my spoon and scoop up another piece from his plate.

He glowers at me. "There's entire platter and you're still going to pick at my plate?"

"You offered."

"My mistake," he mutters.

I go in for another one but he swats my hand away like a fly.

My face deadpans. "You're a grown man, Torin."

"Says the grown woman picking at my plate when there's a family-sized dish, right over there."

After lunch, we take a long route back, strolling amidst the tiled walkways of the botanical garden. A plethora of multicoloured blossoms arranged in a formal exhibition like the private grounds of a king.

"You know... I never thanked you for saving my life."

He glances at me sideways. "Third times a charm."

My smile drops off my face. "It was only two times."

"Four times, actually," he amends. "Because if Gaza's men closed in on your position before I took you. Your mother would've been in harm's way."

Angst-ridden, I wring out my hands. "She still is because of me. What's stopping them from using her as bait to lure me out. I bet they still want that book back. And even though I didn't kill Gaza myself, I might as well have been the one to put the bullet in him. What's stopping them from doing the same to my mama?"

"My men," he answers firmly. "I gave you my word. She's secure and so are you. You're both safe as long as you stay under our guard."

"I don't doubt that for a minute, since Orian's solution is to slaughter any and everybody that threatens that safety." My gaze explores the flowered expanse at its leisure. The thought of him disturbs my tranquillity. "Where is he? It's been days, shouldn't he be here by now?"

Torin wears a disgruntled look, revealing that he shares my... curiosity. "He'll be back, eventually." He meets my gaze, giving me a quick once-over. "What, do you miss him?"

My face tightens. "No."

"No," he repeats with a theatric, high-pitch. "The inflection in your voice tells me differently, Hass."

"Hass?" I spit out with revulsion.

"I'm sorry. Is Orian the only one allowed to call you a disgustingly adorable nickname?" he questions with a condescending smirk. "Huh, Sakura?"

"Shut up."

I aim a smack at his shoulder but he jerks it out of the way.

"Look how flustered you are when I mention his name," he jeers, goading a reaction from me.

"I won't tell you again."

"I think... I think there's a name for it." He snaps his fingers in mock thought. ".... Stockholm syndrome."

I launch a punch at him. He catches it and yanks me to him, spinning me around so my back hits his chest. His burly arms locked around me, his breaths ruffling through my hair, tickling the back of my neck.

"You might want to wait until you make a full recovery, before you go starting fights."

I knock my head back, headbutting him with an oomph but his siege endures. "Even at my weakest, I could easily take you."

"I'm sure you could," he purrs into my ear, releasing me. Adding, "In your coma."

"You know what."

I snatch at him. He dodges, sidestepping to walk backwards on the single path.

"What?"

"If you want to go with me, let's go."

"Yeah?" he asks excitedly.

"Yeah."

I grab at him several times; he evades each attempt amusedly, provoking me more with his laughing. Motivated to wipe that smirk off his face, I accelerate my speed, catching a hold of him. Caught under a sudden spell of light-headedness, my hand drops, my vision blurring like a camera lens going out of focus. The ground beneath me becomes unstable. Scant of breath, my chest heaves for air.

I blink a few times before my sight clears up. Torin seals the gap between us, taking my face into his hands, cupping both cheeks.

"You okay?"

"I'm... fine."

"Tell that to your heavy breathing." His thumb grazes over my skin soothingly. "That's enough playtime for you. Let's get you to bed."

He rotates and squats low. Too tired to argue, I fall forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs laced around his waist. He rises and makes his way inside. I rest my head on his back, lulled by the calming thumps of his heartbeat. My eyes flutter close.

In due time, we reach the bedroom. Torin enters carefully, like he's scared to wake me.

He comes to a jarring standstill. "Onii-san."

*What the hell is that?* I open my eyes and look up.

I suck in a jarring breath at the sight of Orian standing in the room. His eyes shaded with the murderous colour of red.