Ann’s POV
I try to shut the door in his face, but he stops me by sticking his leg in and restricting the door from closing.
In frustration, I leave the door and rush in, falling onto the bed.
I am on the verge of tears right now. Everyone will look at me differently now, including Mark, the other Chef, and the other women who used to hold me in high regard because of the guards always swarming around me.
The worst part is the fact that I might not be able to go back there again.
Vincete has ruined it all. I should have known he would do this the moment he mentioned something against the academy.
He disapproves of it, and now he has indirectly ruined it for me.
“Ann.”
“Go out, please. I don’t want to see or talk to you right now.”
Silence falls. I’m not sure if he has taken any steps, but I am not curious to know. I just want to bury my face here for as long as possible.
“You don’t want to know what he said or why I did that?”
“Does it matter?” I retort back sharply. The deed is already done. Even if Mark had done something wrong, the fact that Vince had hit him first is enough to get people on Mark’s side.
They all like him. They love his flirty personality, but I don’t.
“It does if it has to do with you,” he mutters calmly, forcing me to push myself back up to face him.
“What do you mean?” I ask immediately, but he shakes his head and murmurs as expected.
“Nothing.”
“Did he tell you he likes me?” This is the only reason I can think of, or maybe Mark disrespected me. Mark already told me that, but I told him I wasn’t interested. All I wanted was to learn what he had to offer me. All I wanted was for my dream to come true.
Vince’s eyes widen on me.
“Is that why you hit him, Vince?” He doesn’t reply, but apparently, that is it.
“I like him…” The rage is back on his face. “… because he is my chef. Our chef. Why would you do something like that? He is a friend too. Can’t I be friends with other people?”
He gulps. “He was staring lustfully at you. He was practically stripping you naked with his eyes, Ann. You expect me to stay calm that way?”
If I weren’t in a sour mood right now, I would have laughed at his narration.
That is Mark’s personality. I wouldn’t deny that.
“He is just a friend,” I say softly, hoping he will be convinced that he really is. Mark and I met as a friend before he became my chef.
Vince is looking everywhere but at me. He seems embarrassed by what happened and doesn’t know how to apologise for his actions.
I always forget the kind of man he is. Soft-spoken but ill-tempered to everyone else but me. The only time Vince was mad at me was when he found out I knew Dante, who had a connection with the Silicones.
And a Mafia at that.
The moment the police arrived and left almost immediately, without Vince following them, I remembered who he indeed was.
A Mafia.
I sigh.
Now, I am still trying to figure out what to do. I’m not sure I can go back there, and I’m not sure everything will be the same.
Vince moves to a sofa and asks. “What do you like about him?”
My head snaps up. “What?!”
“What do you like about Mark or whatever his f***ing name is?!” He asks again, and I roll my eyes.
“Sorry.” His apology is simple but reassuring. I thought it would never come out of his mouth. But apology or not, the deed is done.
“I’m listening,” he insists.
“Nothing, really. I think it’s just that I found out we have one thing in common…”
“Which is?” He interrupts me.
“Reading romantic books filled with happily ever afters,” I announce with a smile dancing on my lips. Aside from cooking, the next in line is getting lost in a good book with a good love story and a happily-ever-after ending.
A part of me wants to believe that is why I used to imagine a fairytale love for myself,, which never happened. My present situation will never stop me from having that dream, though.
It is possible.
“What else?”
“What else?” I try to think of what else I like about Mark. I don’t like his flirty nature. Men like that don’t appeal to me. “He cooks for me… I mean for us.”
I shut my eyes.
He only did that once, but the efforts he put into making me a good meal made me like him a little.
I honestly don’t like him in a romantic way, and I have no idea how to express that to Vince.
“What else?”
At this point, I think I need more time to be ready to continue with this line of conversation. The deadly look on his face is enough to discourage me from going on.
“Nothing else.” I finish off.
He remains silent for a moment before asking again. “Why did you tell him we got married accidentally?”
My jaws drop.
“I…I…” I stammer, feeling silly at myself. I didn’t mean to tell Mark about it because I didn’t even tell him I was married in the first place.
He happened to stumble upon my form, as he claimed, and he saw that I wrote “married” as my martial status. When he asked me about it, I waved it away and mentioned it wasn’t intentional and was just for a while.
I shouldn’t have said that.
I want to go back to the conversation from earlier this morning on our way to the academy. The conversation about the annulment, but watching his expression change from sad to angry and back to the standard, serious look, made me change my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. Vince looks really hurt about it.
He nods in acceptance before rising up.
I decide to tell him I didn’t mean to tell Mark about us. I guess Mark was smart enough to have figured it out with my statement.
“I didn’t tell him like you think I did. It was a mistake, and I promise it will never happen again.” I vow because I know how much this means to him. If it means nothing to me, it means a lot to him.
If Mark is related to any of the families or if this gets out, it will put him in serious trouble with his mother and probably with others.
Her emphasis on me being the queen made me realize how important this is to him. This is not just about his mother. This is more about him.
I regret mentioning the annulment, even though deep down, I know we have to cross that bridge eventually.
But for now, let’s keep the game up.
Vince moves towards me with his hands in his pant pockets. His muscles flex, making him look intimidating and big. However, I don’t feel intimidated.
In fact, I find him admirable in the tight shirt he is wearing. I admire his sense of fashion whenever he is dressed for work, and I still admire him when he is casually dressed at home.
I close my eyes as the image from the previous day when I unintentionally saw his nude chest, suddenly flashes into my head.
Stop it!
Vicente is goddamn handsome. Beautiful. Sexy. Hot. Every word possible to describe this Greek god.
But I can’t fall for him because I know the consequences.
My heart is too flexible to handle another heartbreak in just a few months. He doesn’t believe in love, and apparently, he never will.
His mindset is different from mine and others. His perception of the world of love, romance, and marriage is dark.
The earlier I force myself not to find him any more admirable and attractive, the better.
“I will be home by 7 p. m. Get a nice dress and wait for me.” He stretches his black card at me. I look from his outstretched arm to his face, confused.
“Are we going out?” I demand from him softly.
Is he taking me on a date? Is this to make up for what he just did?
He shakes his head. “No.”
My brow furrowed. “No?”
“I’m taking you to my penthouse. I’m going to cook for you.”
The words process slowly in my head, and I stare at him in wide amazement. Vince can cook? Why is he doing this out of the blue? Is it because I said Mark cooked for me?
I watch him turn around and walk to the door with long strides.
Before he goes out, he adds. “And come with two of your favorite romantic novels.”
My mouth drops agape.