CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 56: THE HUNGER BETWEEN US

Zayn noticed immediately and rushed after me. "Evric!" he called, quickening his pace.

I didn’t answer. He caught me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Hey... are you upset?" he asked.

"I’m not," I muttered, though my tone carried a hint of annoyance.

He gently turned my face toward him.

"You told me the food wasn’t bad," I said, meeting his eyes, "but it was, wasn’t it? And then you went ahead and teased me in front of Nuala. That’s not fair."

"So you don’t trust my words, Evric?" he asked, brows lifting. "I actually told her exactly what I told you. Nuala just added the laugh to tease you."

"That’s a lie," I shot back. "Nuala wouldn’t laugh like that unless you’d actually made fun of me."

Right then, Nuala appeared behind us. "Brother, I never knew you had this sweet side to you. I think it’s time I listen to Chrisly and get serious with my life, so I can find a man and act all cute in front of him like you do."

I gave her a look until she finally confessed. "Alright, fine. Zayn told me the food wasn’t bad, just that you put in too much salt. I was the one who added the laugh to tease you."

I turned back to Zayn, a smile tugging at my lips, and hugged him. But now he was the one sulking over me not trusting him. I leaned in and gave him a small peck in apology.

Nuala grabbed a pillow and covered her face dramatically. "God, these lovers right here are making me question my single life."

She kept teasing while blushing. "Gosh, this is so cute."

Zayn chuckled, and I whispered, "Ignore her."

Hand in hand, we walked into the kitchen, leaving Nuala giggling behind us.

Zayn put on an apron, and I couldn’t just stand there, so I pulled one over my head as well, tying the strings with the practiced ease of a man who’d spent years in a professional kitchen. Every movement was efficient, confident, second nature to someone who ran his restaurant. He pulled ingredients from the fridge and pantry without hesitation, like a chef in his element.

"Okay," he said, handing me a small cutting board. "First lesson, don’t be scared of the knife. Just respect it."

I nodded, watching him demonstrate the perfect slice, each movement clean and precise. He explained patiently, his voice low and warm, and every time I leaned in to see better, I caught a faint whiff of his cologne beneath the scent of fresh herbs.

At one point, I interrupted his lecture by pointing to my lips with a grin. "What about a reward for the student?"

He laughed softly, leaning down to brush a quick kiss against my mouth before resuming the lesson like it was part of the recipe.

The kitchen filled with the sizzle of garlic in olive oil, the earthy aroma of mushrooms, and the sweet tang of tomatoes simmering. Zayn worked like an artist, rolling fresh pasta dough, searing tender slices of beef, and tossing a vibrant salad sprinkled with roasted nuts and crumbled feta.

By the time the maid joined us to help set the table, the spread looked like something from a five-star restaurant. Perfectly seared beef, fresh handmade pasta, a crisp seasonal salad, and a decadent dessert waiting to be served.

When we finally sat down, Nuala across from me, Zayn beside me, Nuala’s eyes widened. "Oh my God, are you sure you two didn’t just get married in the kitchen?"

Zayn smirked and slid a plate toward me. "Eat first. We can discuss marriage proposals later."

When we finally sat down, Nuala across from me, Zayn beside me, her eyes widened dramatically.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Are you sure you two didn’t just get married in the kitchen?"

Zayn smirked and slid a plate toward me. "Eat first. We can discuss marriage proposals later."

Nuala blushed, her fork hovering in midair. "I want a man like Zayn."

We all laughed together and began eating, though Nuala’s mouth never stayed quiet for long. Even between bites, she kept talking, and whenever Zayn and I started a conversation, she found a way to interrupt.

After a while, when the meal was over, my phone buzzed. It was Mr. Karl, asking me to come over to meet a client who had just arrived. We needed to have a brief discussion.

Once I ended the call, I turned to Zayn. "I have to step out for a bit. Do you want to come with me?"

Before he could answer, Nuala shot him a look, subtly signaling for him to stay.

Zayn chuckled and shook his head. "I think I’ll stay here. Since you won’t be long, I’ll be waiting for you."

I nodded. "Alright."

"Come upstairs with me," I said, rising from my seat. "I need to change."

I went upstairs, changed quickly, and hugged Zayn before heading out.

When I arrived at the hotel where the client had booked our meeting, Mr. Karl was already waiting for me. We headed to the suite number we’d been given, but shockingly, when we walked in...

Nicki was there.

He was sitting with the client, and the man casually introduced him as one of the people involved in the project. I greeted him politely and kept my focus on the discussion. We went over the business plan, but all through the meeting, I could feel Nicki’s eyes on me, steady, unblinking, as if he were reading every thought in my head.

When the meeting finally ended, Mr. Karl offered to help the client with his bag downstairs. I gathered my things, ready to leave... until I heard the click of the door lock.

I froze and lifted my head.

Nicki. No.

"No, what, Evric," he said, his voice low and almost seductive. "I personally made him book this place. Because I had a mission after... and I told him to leave first so I could handle you."

My stomach twisted.

"Evric, you dare ignore my calls?"

"I was busy," I muttered.

His eyes narrowed. "I text you, and you don’t reply. Why?"

He stepped forward. Instinctively, I stepped back, once, twice... until my shoulders hit the wall. The impact sent a small shiver through me.

"Nicki," I said, keeping my voice steady, "can we just... go talk outside?"

That broke him. "Don’t you tell me what to do!" His voice cracked like a whip, sharp and sudden. "Don’t you ever tell me to talk outside with you."

The force in his words made my pulse race. My hands felt cold, my chest tight. He was too close... close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek.

"What did I do wrong, Evric?" His voice dropped again, low, intimate. "I care about you. I stepped away because your father asked me to. So tell me..." His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unblinking. "...what exactly did I do to deserve this?"

I searched his face, trying to find the right words.

"When we were together..." His voice softened, coaxing. "...did I ever cheat on you? Did I ever stop loving you?"

I shook my head. "No."

"All I ever did was satisfy you, Evric. Satisfy your needs, your sexual drive, your hunger for touch. His eyes dipped to my lips, his voice thickening. "...satisfy your cravings."

So tell me... where have I wronged you?"

We locked eyes. His stare burned into me, and for a long moment, neither of us looked away.

"Evric," he whispered, "please. I know I was wrong. But I’m sorry."

I didn’t answer. My body moved before my mind did.

Before I could respond, his lips were on mine. The kiss was forceful, urgent. And, God help me, I kissed him back. The taste of him ignites something I thought I’d buried.

And then...