Sweet Hatred Chapter 328: Food Stall

ARIA

I kept my eyes glued to the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how red my ears must’ve been. But it was useless, every word out of his mouth slipped under my skin, winding tighter, pulling closer, no matter how stubbornly I tried to resist.

Before, I’d been slipping again. Back into that dark pit I’d been trying to crawl out of, the one where every thought turned into bla, every mory into proof that I ruin everything I touch. My chest had felt too heavy, my body too hollow. I could’ve drowned in it.

And then Kael ca.

Now here I was, trapped in this car with him, and sohow... I wasn’t drowning anymore. Sohow, the air didn’t taste like regret. Sohow, just being near him made feel a hundred tis lighter.

I risked a glance at him, his profile sharp in the fading light, one hand on the wheel, the other resting so casually close to . And just like that, the strangest rush shot through , not butterflies, not so delicate flutter. It was heavier, deeper. Like my ribs couldn’t hold the swell inside my chest, like every beat of my heart was too big for my body, aching to burst out and reach him.

It scared the hell out of .

How could one man affect this much? How could one look, one smirk, one ridiculous wink, make feel like my whole body was on the verge of catching fire?

I swallowed hard, turning back to the glass before he caught staring.

Was it okay, was it even safe, to be this hopelessly in love with Kael Roman?

Because if it wasn’t, then I was already too far gone.

I finally couldn’t take it anymore.

"You’re really going to keep this destination of yours a secret from ?" I asked, my voice tight with suspicion.

Kael didn’t even bother answering. He only smirked at , that insufferable curl of his mouth, eyes still on the road like he had the upper hand in a ga I hadn’t agreed to play.

I shot him my sharpest glare, one I’d perfected over the years, but he just looked smugger. "Fine," I muttered, folding my arms and snapping my gaze back to the window. If he wanted squirming with curiosity, he’d have to work harder than that.

Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the low chatter of the city fading away. Then the car slowed, turning off the busier streets into a quieter part of town.

My brows knit together as I watched the scenery change, narrow cobblestone roads winding between whitewashed houses, their terracotta rooftops catching the golden wash of the late afternoon sun. Windows were frad with black iron railings, so with pots of red geraniums spilling over. Laundry fluttered lazily between balconies.

It felt... ordinary. Peaceful. A kind of Spain I hadn’t seen yet.

Finally, Kael eased the car to a stop along a narrow street where hardly anyone drove. My eyes widened as I spotted what we’d parked beside, a tiny food stall tucked into the corner, painted a faded shade of green with chalkboard nus propped outside. The scent hit first: grilled at, herbs, fresh bread, olive oil ward by the sun. My stomach gave a traitorous lurch.

I turned slowly back to him, disbelief written all over my face. "A food stall?"

Kael leaned back in his seat, watching with that infuriating calmness, like he’d been waiting for this reaction all along.

I blinked at the little stand again, then at him. "Wait, this is your big secret?"

I stared, waiting for the punchline. So hint of a smirk, a twitch of his lips, sothing to tell this was another one of his gas. But Kael didn’t budge. His face was dead serious.

"Yes," he said flatly, already shutting off the engine. "We’re here."

For a second, I just stared at him. The great Kael Roman, ruthless, terrifying, dragging out in broad daylight to... a food stall. He was absolutely unpredictable but sohow also predictable.

Before I could even wrap my head around it, he was out of the driver’s seat, circling around to my side. He opened the door and held his hand out like it was the most natural thing in the world. I slipped mine into his, letting him help out, still caught between amusent and confusion.

"Why here?" I asked, brows raised as he guided onto the cobblestones.

"One of my juniors owns a boxing gym a few blocks away," he answered, completely serious. "He ntioned this place. I thought I’d try it, with you."

My chest gave a little squeeze, and I hated it. How stupidly easy it was to fall for him again, just because he thought of in sothing as small as this. I imdiately schooled my face into sothing blasé, brushing at my sleeve. "Well, then the food better be good. I’m not forgiving you if it isn’t."

The corner of his mouth almost twitched, almost, but instead he just took my hand again, leading toward the stand like it was a battlefield and we were advancing together.

The stall itself was small but charming, tucked into the corner like it had always belonged there. Its wooden fra was painted a fading green, the chalkboard nu written in ssy white letters with smudges of chalk dust clinging to the edges. Brightly painted tal chairs, blue, yellow, red, were scattered around mismatched tables covered in checkered cloths. The air was thick with the sll of grilled chorizo, sizzling garlic, and bread still warm from the oven.

I sank into one of the yellow chairs, the tal surprisingly cool beneath . Kael stood at the counter with a man in an apron, his voice low as he ordered sothing in Spanish with a fluency I didn’t expect.

My eyes wandered around while I waited, at the old couple sipping coffee and holding hands like it was the first ti, at the teenagers sharing one plate and laughing too loudly, at the little kids chasing each other across the cobblestones.

The laughter cut short when one of them tripped right near my chair. The boy, maybe five, let out a startled cry as his knees scraped the ground. I was on my feet before I even thought about it, crouching down to check on him.