Page 12 of Blood and Beauty (Owned by The Don)

He smiles again, the sudden flush leaving his chubby cheeks.

“Well then, I was thinking once I start on dinner preparation, maybe you could make a quick and sweet breakfast? I saw something about a churro French toast in your book. We have plenty of brioche and eggs, as well as anything else it may require.”

I smile at this. Ricky’s mother taught me this Mexican twist on one of my most beloved breakfast items and it’s been my favorite since. However, it doesn’t seem like somethingfancyenough for Dante’s liking. El Oscuro probably prefers caviar toast on a golden platter for his first meal.

“Are you sure this is somethingMasterwould enjoy eating?”

He bites a smirk at my venomous mentioning of Dante’s formal name and then shrugs.

“Flavor is of the essence in any dish, Emmie, and that dish looked pretty delicious to me. I’m sureMasterwill enjoy it.”

I bite my lip as he hands me a bowl of eggs and a loaf of thick, fluffy bread. He sets out all of my needed utensils and gestures to the double doored pantry near the industrial sized fridge. I make my way over to it and try my best not to get lost inside.

This pantry was half of the walk-in closet in my quarters upstairs and it was every professional chef’s dream. I found the shelving of spices and searched for cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar. Once the spices were gathered, I opened the fridge to grab some heavy cream and lemon juice.

I began to crack the eggs into the bowl when Dante’s voice stopped me in my tracks, a shell falling into my yellow and goopy mixture.

“I assume breakfast will be ready shortly, Javier?”

I don’t miss the bite in his tone, but Javier seems to pay no mind and he responds with an enthusiasticYes, Sir.I pick the shell out of the egg mixture and add a dash of cream and spices, picking up my whisk and ignoring the chills that have now erupted on my arms and neck. I could feel this man's stare from a mile away, prey being spotted by its predator. I begin whisking and after a minute of silence, I hear the telltale echo of his leather shoes walking away.

Once the bread is soaked into the egg mixture, I line the baking dish with numerous slices and sprinkle the cinnamon-sugar mix over each slice, my mouth watering at the sight. Once I pop the dish into the oven, I heat up the stove and place two cups of sugar and some lemon juice in a pan. Javier looks at me over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow.

“It’s my homemade caramel sauce, an additive I’ve created in my most recent years of making this dish. It tastes so much better than maple syrup.”

He smiles a bold and cheeky smile, making me giggle. The sound is almost foreign to me, my own laugh.

“I told you flavor is of the essence and here you are bringing more flavor to my kitchen than I have in quite some time.”

I blush and shrug him off, his praise making me shy.

“It’s just French toast. I’m not the one making a five-star meal.”

“Agree to disagree, Emmie. I think you and I have a lot to learn from one another, if you would like to learn at least.”

For the first minute in my short and dark time of being in this dark mansion, I feel hope and warmth.

“I’d like that very much, Javier.” He smiles and continues rubbing the goat meat before him with a marinade.

Once my caramel sauce is done, I pour it into a syrup dish and pull the French toast from the oven. Javier puts the goat meat into the refrigerator to marinate and begins setting the serving trays with fruits and the French toast. I follow him into the dining hall with the syrup and a glass pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Dante is sitting in the same spot as he was last night for dinner, his outfit today less intimidating than the suit he wore yesterday. His dark grey suit pants fit every thick muscle in his legs, stretching over his bulk as he crosses one leg over his knee. His shoes are black and shiny. He wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his thick and tan forearms that made my eyes wander a little longer than they should. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of the tan flesh of his chest that was lightly dusted with dark hair. Around his neck hung a gold medallion, though I wasn’t standing close enough to make out exactly what it was.

His dark hair was slicked back as usual, and even though the smell of my French toast lingered in my nostrils, I could still smell his dark and citrusy scent. Like cloves and oranges, that’s how he smelled today. He smelled better than breakfast and that sudden thought put me at war with myself. I shouldn’t be attracted to this man even the slightest bit. It’s the textbook definition of Stockholm syndrome and I refuse to be a victim of such a thing.

Javier sets the serving trays down and I follow suit with the juice and caramel sauce. Once all is laid out before this dark king, Javier begins to walk back to the kitchen, and I begin to follow him before Dante’s voice stops me.

“Please sit, Emmie. This breakfast is more than enough for two.”

I look at Javier and he smiles at me, silently urging me to sit with a nod of his head. I look at Dante and hold his amber gaze for just a second, not wanting to be held under it for too long.

“What about Javi-”

“Javier has already eaten and has a job to do.”

I want to snap at him that Javier is a human worthy of speaking for himself, but bite my tongue instead. Before I can reply, Javier speaks out.

“It’s true Emmie, I eat when the birds start singing and I still have much to prepare for dinner. You can join me in a little while. Enjoy your meal.”

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