Matteo Montgory already regretted having ever thought this was a good idea.
After dragging out his work for as long as he could, he finally returned ho. His feet felt like lead, and for the first ti since Alia moved into his penthouse, he wished he never had to go back ho and could hide away in his office like a tortoise in its shell.
He even prayed that Emline wouldn’t be allowed in by security and would thus have no option but to head ho. Alas, he was sorely mistaken.
"Matteo!" Emline’s voice sounded from the mont he stepped ho, and it took all his willpower to not groan in agony. "You’re back!"
"How did you get in?" Matteo asked.
"You silly bean," Emline said, reaching up to bop his nose. Matteo withdrew quickly as though he had been burned. "You forgot to give the passcode to your door! I had to speak with security. Thankfully, they recognized as your fiancée and let in."
"I see," Matteo said.
He made a ntal note to speak with the building’s managent after Emline left. This was a huge security breach that Matteo wouldn’t want a repeat of, especially if Alia was here.
"I’ll need to speak to security about letting strangers into my apartnt while I’m gone," he coldly said, shrugging off his tie. He made a move to remove his jacket and Emline practically pounced forward, sinking her hands into the expensive fabric.
"But I’m not a stranger, am I?" Emline said with a pout as she took Matteo’s suit jacket. "I am the woman who will be your wife. Soon enough, this will be my ho too."
"If they can let you in without my permission, they can let anyone else in too while I am not looking," Matteo said. He all but snatched his outerwear back, subtly dusting it before placing it over the back of the couch.
Emline bit her lip and nodded. "I get it," she said. "Like Alia Kentwood, right?"
Matteo raised an eyebrow as he stared at her, confused. "What?"
"It wouldn’t be good if they let Alia Kentwood in," Emline repeated. "She’s a woman who’s had unsavory rumors with you, and with our marriage coming up, it wouldn’t be good if she continued to appear here and tarnish your reputation."
"She’s my assistant," Matteo reminded. He then gestured to himself and then to Emline. "We’re not married yet. Until then, please refrain from reaching too far into my personal life."
From where Matteo couldn’t see, Emline’s hands clenched into tight fists. Her manicured nails dug into her palms before she took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing herself to relax. Pressing on a bright smile, she ca forward and hugged Matteo’s arm, gently urging him in the direction of the dining table.
"I was just worried for your safety," Emline said. "You know how the paparazzi can be. They have no respect for personal space."
’They weren’t the only ones,’ Matteo thought to himself, but he said nothing. Instead, he sat down just as Emline instructed and watched as she darted into his kitchen.
She returned with various unrecognizable dishes, all charred to various degrees. When she placed them on the table, the sll was so awful that Matteo shivered slightly in disgust. Seeing Emline’s handiwork, he finally realized what was that odd sll he caught when he returned ho.
He had seen children cook better dishes than this at the orphanage― was this even edible?
"While you were gone, I took the liberty of making so dishes I thought you might like," Emline said. She wiped her hands against her clothes, and it was only then that Matteo realized she was wearing a yellow frilly apron.
Alia’s apron.
"It’s my first ti cooking for soone else, so forgive if it’s not really―" Emline hesitated, eyeing the food, "―good. I don’t have experience being a housewife, after all."
Matteo’s gaze slowly lifted from the food before landing on Emline.
"I am sure Miss Kentwood would’ve been much better at these nial chores," Emline continued. "After all, I heard she was previously married to Caleb Walton. She must’ve cooked plenty for him in those years they spent together."
Her subtle jab hadn’t gone over his head, and Matteo’s eyelids twitched in irritation. However, the whole reason why he had even invited this serpent into his ho was because there was information he needed. Emline had very kindly reminded him of that by ntioning Caleb Walton.
"You sound like you know a lot about Caleb Walton," Matteo said as he reached for the glass of wine Emline had poured him. The bottle had been one from his collection, and he watched her pop the cork right in front of him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to drink anything from her.
"Kelsie has told a few things," Emline admitted.
"You’re close?"
"Kelsie is my closest friend," Emline said. She then heavily blushed, combing her hair behind her ear. "She will be my maid of honor too at our wedding."
Instead of sipping the wine, Matteo downed it in one gulp. He needed the drink. Badly. Especially if Emline was going to continue talking about their wedding. Matteo needed to be drunk for that conversation to flow naturally, and with his high tolerance for alcohol, it would take more than just a glass.
He reached forward, wanting to pour himself a drink, but Emline beat him to it.
"Allow ," she said, and she swiped Matteo’s glass from his hands. She poured him another glass, and the entire ti, Matteo watched her actions. However, she didn’t do anything funny to it, and soon enough, she returned the refilled glass to him.
Matteo muttered a word of thanks and took the glass, swirling its contents before bringing it to his lips. Instantly, his body felt warm as the alcohol slid down his throat. The sll of the burnt food seed heightened the more he drank, and Matteo reached for his buttons, roughly unclasping the top two in irritation. It felt like they were strangling him alive and these clothes were making it difficult to breathe.
"What else did Miss Friesent tell you about Caleb and Alia’s marriage?" Matteo asked.
He looked at the food and winced, choosing to pick up the wine glass again. His throat was getting awfully parched just looking at how dried out the supposed beef ribs were.
Swinging his head back, he took another swig of the wine.
"It seems like Caleb Walton isn’t over his ex-wife," he subtly prodded. "You might want to warn your friend about it."
"Oh, she knows," Emline said. Suddenly, a sly smile slid on her face, her eyes trained on the now-empty glass of wine. "She isn’t too worried. After all, Alia Kentwood is just an ordinary girl in an ordinary world. How can she compete with people like us?"
Matteo frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. His vision suddenly blurred for a split second, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear up the haze, but it didn’t work too well. Through the few seconds of clarity, he saw Emline get out of her seat, slowly strolling over to where he was.
"Are you alright, Matteo?" she asked, her voice filled with warmth and gentleness. She reached down, and to Matteo’s surprise, what he saw wasn’t who he expected.
What was Alia doing here so soon? Where was Emline?
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