Chapter 4

Diego

As the night deepened, I found myself standing in the kitchen of my apartment, staring at the meager contents of my refrigerator. I didn't know I was going to come here, as otherwise I would have bought some groceries.

Rowan had been quiet since our arrival, his eyes darting around the spacious room as if he couldn't quite believe he was there. His behavior was to be expected. Not even I thought I was going to protect him.

I knew he was hungry; I could see it in the way his eyes kept glancing at the kitchen, his slender frame betraying his need for a meal. He probably hadn't eaten much today. It had been a stressful day, taking into account he was looking for his sister before and someone from the cartel tried to kill him. I was still going to find out why that happened.

"You must be hungry," I said, closing the refrigerator door with a soft thud. "I can order something if you'd like. I don't mind doing that."

Rowan shook his head, his eyes flicking to me before quickly looking away. "I couldn't impose any further," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly.

I crossed my arms, a faint smile tugging at my lips. He looked cute when he said that.

"You're not imposing, Rowan," I said, my voice softening. "Consider it part of the deal. I protect you, you get a warm meal, and in turn, you pay what you owe us quicker than before."

He bit his lip, his eyes downcast, and I could see the internal struggle playing out across his features. He already didn't know if he was going to get the money needed in the stipulated month, so shortening that time was even more straining; something he didn't even want to consider.

"I can't deny that I'm hungry," he said, his voice quiet. "But I don't want to be a burden. To be honest, I think I've already been giving you enough trouble."

I sighed, knowing that arguing with him would be pointless. Rowan was stubborn, but I understood his reluctance to accept anything from me. After all, I was his loan shark, the one he feared and owed money to. His opinion of me would probably not change anytime soon.

"How about a compromise?" I suggested, stepping closer to him. "Let me cook for you. It's been a while since I've had company, and I'd rather not have you starve under my roof. I want you to feel okay with me — or as much as you can feel, anyway."

His eyes widened at my offer, and I saw a hint of surprise in their gray depths. He didn't think I would ever say something like that, and to be honest, not even I had thought I would.

"You... you'd cook for me?" He asked, sounding dumbfounded. The more this continued, the more I realized that he was too much of a good person to be involved in the mess he was in, or maybe he was hiding something from me. It could be anything.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance even as I felt a strange warmth spread through me at the thought of preparing a meal for him. It had been a long time and I was itching to test my culinary skills again.

"I'm not a complete savage, Rowan," I said, turning toward the kitchen counter. "Besides, it's been a long day, and we could both use a decent meal. I'm pretty sure it's going to be better than takeout."

He hesitated, his eyes flitting around the kitchen as if searching for an escape route. But whatever he was thinking he could do, it wasn't going to work. He was stuck with me for now.

"I-I suppose I could eat," he said, his voice soft. "But only if it's no trouble. I really don't want to burden you."

I smirked, already reaching for the ingredients I needed. "No trouble at all, omega," I said, my voice carrying a hint of amusement. I had to hold back my laugh. "Just make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon. And, I'm sure you are going to enjoy it."

As I set about preparing the meal, I felt Rowan's eyes on me, his gaze curious yet guarded. He couldn't stop looking at me, which I found endearing.

I could sense his uncertainty, his struggle to understand why I, his loan shark, was offering him protection and a warm meal. Little did he know that I was just as perplexed by my own actions. Or, maybe, I was doing it just because I wanted his money.

You're too soft, Diego, a voice whispered in my mind. This omega owes you money, yet here you are, playing the role of his protector and host.

I pushed the voice aside, focusing on the task at hand. Hey, I'm only doing this because I want his money and nothing else. Surely, it can't be because I feel something for him. I don't feel anything for anyone. That doesn't make any sense.

I was an alpha, an outstanding influence in the Nightshade Wolves cartel, and yet, here I was, cooking a meal for an omega I barely knew. He better eat what I was going to make or else—

I chuckled slightly. I didn't even know what I was thinking anymore. Just… Something, I guessed.

This was a strange turn of events, one that I couldn't quite explain, even to myself. Understanding my mind was difficult. I gave up on trying to do that a long time ago.

As the scent of sizzling meat and spices filled the air, Rowan's stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between us. I should have put on some music.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of music he liked. Maybe jazz? Hip-hop? I had no idea. There wasn't actually much I knew about Rowan, which was something I should do something about.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of his flushed cheeks, and I felt a twinge of something akin to affection. Good Lord. What the fuck was happening to me? I was perplexed.

"It won't be much longer," I said, turning back to the stove. "Hunger always makes the food taste better, anyway."

He gave a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Who would have thought he would laugh at a joke I made? I certainly never thought that would happen.

"I suppose that's true," he said, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "I haven't eaten a decent meal in a while. You know, because I'm always so busy, I don't have time for home-cooked meals."

I plated the food, a simple dish of steak and vegetables, and set it on the table before taking a seat across from Rowan.

I didn't want to make anything complicated, thanks to my lack of recent experience. Most of all, I didn't want to make something I wouldn't like.

He eyed the meal cautiously as if expecting a trap, and I felt a surge of annoyance at his wariness. Oh, come on. If I wanted to kill him, I would have done so a long time ago.

"It's not poisoned, if that's what you're thinking," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Eat. You need your strength if you're going to survive what's coming. I'm not sure I can change my boss' mind about ending your life."

He flushed, his cheeks tinged with pink, and he lowered his gaze, picking up his fork with trembling hands. He really was afraid. I wished I could do something about that, but didn't say anything about it.

"I-I didn't mean to imply that," he stammered. "It's just... I'm not used to... this. Usually, people expect something in return when they do something nice for me."

"This?" I prompted, my voice gentle despite the frustration I felt at his continued wariness. I had to remind myself he wasn't going to change his mind in such a short time.

He hesitated, his eyes flicking to me before quickly looking away. "Being taken care of," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a long time since anyone has shown me kindness. I'm just not used to it."

My heart twisted at his words, and I felt a sudden urge to reach across the table and squeeze his hand. Some people said I was a monster, but I wasn't. It was the first time anyone had said that to me. His life was probably miserable, no matter how much money he was raking in.

So, I cleared my throat, forcing the strange impulse aside. "Well, consider it an added benefit of our arrangement," I said, my voice rough. "As long as you're under my protection, you'll be taken care of. I don't care what you think — that's what I'm going to keep doing."

He nodded, his eyes downcast as he began to eat, his movements cautious as if expecting the food to scald his tongue. Or maybe he was thinking that I was going to jump across the table and hit him. What a stupid notion.

But as he took the first bite, his eyes widened, and I saw a flash of surprise in their gray depths. Something good happened and he better tell me what it was.

I raised an eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at my lips. "It's good, isn't it?" I said, unable to hide the satisfaction in my voice. I was proud of my cooking. "Even a loan shark like me can cook a decent meal. We learn something new every day, I suppose."

He nodded, his cheeks flushing as he continued to eat, his initial wariness melting away with each bite. I found myself enjoying the sight of him savoring the food, his guarded demeanor softening with each passing moment.

Who would have thought he was going to enjoy my home-cooked meal? I certainly never thought that.

"You're a good cook," he said, his voice soft as he set down his fork, his plate now empty. I didn't think he was going to congratulate me. "I mean... it's better than I expected."

I laughed, unable to contain the burst of amusement that bubbled up within me. "Expected?" I echoed, my eyes sparkling with mirth. "You thought I'd serve you slop, omega? I would never do that to my worst enemy."

He flushed, his eyes dropping to his now-empty plate. "I-I didn't know what to expect," he stammered, his cheeks tinged with pink. "You're a loan shark, after all, and I thought you were going to kill me."

I leaned back in my chair, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. "And yet, here I am, feeding you instead of collecting what you owe," I said, my voice carrying a hint of amusement. "We make quite the pair, don't we? Plus, it's not like you can get the money the cartel needs from here."

He smiled then, a hesitant curve of his lips that transformed his entire face. "I suppose we do," he said. "At least for now."

The reminder of our temporary arrangement hung between us, the weight of our situation settling back into the room. I rose from my chair, collecting our plates with a soft clatter.

Of course, I had also prepared a plate for myself. I did say I was hungry and that I was going to eat what I was going to make.

"I'll clean up," I said, carrying the dishes to the sink. "You can make yourself comfortable in the living room. There's a TV if you'd like some entertainment. Enjoy the peace while it lasts."

"I can help with the dishes," he offered, rising from his chair as well. "I may not be much of a cook, but I can certainly clean up after a meal."

I paused, my hands submerged in the soapy water, and turned to him, a faint smile on my lips. Yet one more thing I didn't think would happen between us. I didn't think he would offer to clean the dishes.

"It's all right, Rowan," I said, my voice gentle. "Consider it my way of saying thank you for not breaking any of my dishes." I knew how clumsy he was, for the short time we spent together, so that was a miracle.

He laughed, a soft, melodic sound that warmed me from the inside out. "Fair enough," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. For someone who owed me money, he was very carefree at the moment. "But I insist on helping with breakfast. The least I can do is contribute something while I'm here." And he was thinking that there was going to be breakfast tomorrow morning, the two of us together again. And the best thing about that? There really was going to be.

I nodded, a sense of camaraderie building between us. "Breakfast it is, then," I said, turning back to the sink. "But for now, go and relax. You've had a stressful day, and we both know tomorrow won't be any easier."

He hesitated as if wanting to say something more, but he simply nodded and turned toward the living room. I knew what he wanted to say. Those words were unexpected, to say the least. He didn't think I was going to show so much empathy for him.

As I washed the dishes, the sound of his soft footsteps retreating, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. Why was I feeling that way? I didn't know.