Page 30 of Bound By Revenge

“Found my closet, though,” he says, his voice dipping lower. His smirk is back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nice shirt.”

“It was the only thing I could find,” I reply, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingers.

“Looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he says smoothly, turning back to the counter. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I admit, stepping into the room.

“Good,” he says, gesturing toward the kitchen island. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I warmed up everything—minus the sushi.”

My jaw drops at the sight. He’s laid out a lavish spread, enough food to feed half the city. Everything looks incredible, from unfamiliar dishes to comforting classics like fettuccine Alfredo.

“Did you make all this?” I ask, incredulous as I step closer, drawn by the mouthwatering aroma.

He scoffs, grinning. “Hell no. I can’t cook to save my life. Irina is the mastermind here.”

“Who’s Irina?” I ask, perhaps a little too quickly.

He raises an eyebrow, smirking but letting it go. “My chef. She’s worked for me for over a decade.” He brushes past me, his hand barely touching the small of my back as he reaches for the oven. “Excuse me, let me get the lasagna.”

A delicious shiver runs up my spine from the slight touch, though I pretend not to notice it.

He sets the lasagna down, filling the room with a rich, mouthwatering scent. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. No wonder—I haven’t eaten today. I’d planned to grab a bite with A.J. after our meeting with Camilla.

He shrugs off the oven mitts, and for a moment, I’m caught off guard when I realize he’s barefoot. There’s a bottle of wine on the counter, and after rolling up his sleeves, he reaches for it. Out of the blue, he looks so… domestic—approachable, even. I can't wrap my head around the guy in front of me being the same mysterious man from the gala or the all-powerful mobster who had me abducted.

And God help me… I kind of like it.

“Why are you doing all this?” I ask, unable to mask my suspicion.

He pauses, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Well… We need to eat.” His forearms, flexing as he uses the corkscrew, are impossible to ignore.

“No, I mean, why are you doing this yourself?”

“Ah.” He smiles, looking amused. “You mean why not have someone else do this. I gave the staff the day off when I decided to have you over for dinner tonight.” He winks.

“You mean when youkidnappedme.”

“Thought we were done arguing semantics,” he says, handing me a glass of red wine without even asking if I want it. I guess Simon says I’ll have a glass of wine, and that’s the end of it.

“So we’re all alone?” I ask, taking a sip. The wine is rich and smooth, and I hate that it’s delicious.

He raises a brow. “Why do you ask? Planning to have your way with me, Kat?”

“Ha-ha. Hilarious. Nice try. You’re the one trying to wine and dine me, buddy.”

“Just trying to feed us. Everyone’s better company with a warm meal in their stomach.” He shrugs. “And before you get any ideas, no, we’re not completely alone. Some of my men are still here. They're going to hang around for a while. I’ll introduce you later.”

“Scared you can’t handle me?”

His eyes twinkle with amusement. “They’re not here for backup. So if you’re feeling good about your chances of subduing me with a butter knife, think again. I don't think you'd want me to give you another spanking. Or do you?” He edges toward me, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder.

“Maybe in your dreams. And thanks for the reminder. I almost forgot I owe you payback.”

“Aw, Kat. Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he says. I vaguely remember saying something similar the night we met.

“If they're not here as backup—just in case I overtake you with my mad ninja skills—then what are they here for? I thought you said I'd be safe here, but if you need all these guards around…”

“It’s not that. They're here for the same reason as you. I don't want to waste my time hunting for them if I need them.”

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