Page 97 of His Black Onyx

Nate pauses, looking more than surprised as he reciprocates the woman's aghast expression.

"Dorota," he produces, underlined with a heavy exhale. "I didn't know you're... here."

The woman is shaking her head as her eyes tear up.

"Come here, boy!" she cries out, before throwing her arms around Nate, who is so much taller than her that she practically disappears in his arms when he reciprocates the embrace.

"It's so good to see you," she says, her voice muffled and burdened with tears. "When Raad told me you were coming to town, I didn't want to believe it. But here you are."

She lets go of him, scanning him from head to toe, still shaking her head in disbelief as she wipes away the tears from her lined cheeks.

Then she looks at me, and her smile widens.

"And your brought someone with you," she says, reaching her hand out to me. "Hello, it's so nice to meet you. My name is Dorota. And you are?"

"Malia," I say shyly as I shake her hand.

"Malia," she repeats, affection lacing her voice. "What a pretty name."

"Dorota has worked for my family ever since my brother was born," Nate finally enlightens me. "The soul of my father's household."

"Oh, stop it," Dorota waves him off. "Come in, come in. He's waiting for you!"

I try not to gawk as she leads us through the beautiful entrance hall of a house that looks even more lavish on the inside than it does from the outside.

"He's in the backyard," Dorota says, gesturing toward a set of white French doors at the end of the wide hallway she's been leading us through.

"Thank you, Dorota."

I've never heard Nate speak this formal, but I'm beginning to understand why he's wearing a suit jacket today, and why he gelled his hair to the side in a way that I've never seen on him before. He looks dapper and so proper, almost like a young high society son—if it weren't for the salient tattoo on the side of his skull that runs down along his neck.

"I had no idea," I utter in a whisper as we step through the French doors. "You said your family was rich, but this..."

The expression on his face hardens, and he looks strained and tense all of a sudden, causing me to bite my lip to stop myself from speaking. I clear my throat, once again fixing my dress as I lower my gaze in a moment of shame. My excitement is born more out of surprise than admiration, but it clearly doesn't sit well with him.

Either that, or he's simply distraught by the appearance of the man walking up to us now. It's a small but noble backyard, filled with marble decor and a seating area next to a small pond that seems to host Koi carps. A narrow path, lined out with white stones, curves around the pond—and a tall man dressed entirely in black is walking across it, approaching us.

At first glance, Nate's brother looks nothing like him, except for the tall and broad stature. He's even a bit taller than Nate, his wide shoulders and strong arms hugged tightly by a black shirt. But he's a lot darker in every sense. The olive tone of his skin resembles mine, and his eyes are as black as his short cut hair. I know that he's a few years older than Nate, but he doesn't look it. He looks surprisingly young, despite the stern expression on his face, lined with deep furrows as he greets us.

"Nice to meet you," he says, reaching his hand out for a greeting toward me first, before he turns to his brother.

"H-hi," I stutter, but he's not even looking at me. His eyes are glued onto Nate, who reciprocates his sinister look in the exact same fashion. Now that they're standing so close to each other, displaying the same mimic, it's pretty easy to tell that they share at least a part of their genetics.

I press my lips together, trying my best to hide my amusement at the similarity between these two half-brothers, who—as much as I understand it—both think they have nothing in common.

"Michael," Nate says, a provocative tone audible in his voice.

"I go by Raad these days," his brother responds, before he turns to me. "And you are?"

I'm a bit taken aback at the way he talks to me. He was polite enough to shake my hand first, but completely ignored my existence a moment later, while engaging in an awkward staring contest with Nate, who seems more tense than ever.

"Malia," I say, trying to bring myself to smile.

"A girlfriend, huh?" Raad wonders, arching an eyebrow when he turns back to Nate. "The one you kidnapped? So you weren't kidding on the phone."

Nate frowns at his brother, wrapping his arm around me in a protective manner.

"No, I wasn't."

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