Page 17 of Light in Your Eyes (Romero Brothers #1)

Layla

Today is my third day inside the Black Wings mansion.

After I take a morning shower, I step out of the bathroom and see Kellan sitting on the recliner sofa beside the bookshelf.

Judging from the sight of him lying there with his eyes closed and earphones plugged in his ears, it seems that he fell asleep while he was listening to music.

I sigh. I want to ask him about breakfast, but he looks so peaceful sleeping there that I don't dare wake him up.

Yesterday, Zoe brought me meals three times a day. But today, I'm not sure if it's going to be the same.

I take my new phone from the nightstand to check if Jaxon has replied to the text I sent him last night.

Me: I need your help. I don't feel safe in this mansion because I'm not a member of Black Wings. They think I'm an intruder because I don't have any Black Wings tattoo. Can you clear that up ?

My shoulders sag in disappointment because there's no reply yet. He hasn't even read it.

My mind is telling me that something bad has indeed happened to him during his mission, but worrying will do nothing to help me. I just hope that he will respond as soon as possible so that my worry will be eased.

I glance at Kellan again, thinking that I shouldn't be depending on other people that much. My job here is to take care of Kellan, and I can't do that if I'm being a crybaby.

With that thought in mind, I head to the door, preparing to get food for myself and Kellan. We can just have our meals inside this room.

When my hand touches the door handle, I glance back one last time at Kellan and find him still sleeping soundly on the sofa. I step out of the room and close the door behind me softly.

I hope that the hallway will be deserted, but that would be too good to be true.

While I'm trying to find my way to the kitchen, I pass some people who automatically snap their heads toward me as soon as I walk by. Their gazes make the hair on the back of my neck stand. The atmosphere here hasn't changed at all. It's still as horrible as the night they were trying to drown me.

The air around me feels like it's made of sin. No kindness. No empathy. Just evil.

I can hear their whispers.

"Look. That's Kellan's slave."

"Do you think that he touched her? I don't think he ever touched a girl. "

I can feel the girls' jealousy all over the air. While I'm trying to ignore all their acquisitions about me, one comment makes my pulse quicken.

"Look. It's the girl without the tattoo."

Fear builds up inside me again. I want to run for my life. I don't belong here. They're supposed to kill me. I don't know if Kellan claiming me as his slave would save me anymore.

It's not that difficult to find the kitchen. At this hour, that's where everyone practically comes and goes.

Many kinds of food are already prepared on the giant kitchen island, where everyone can just grab a plate. The sooner I can get out of the kitchen, the better. I take a tray and start to prepare the food for Kellan and myself.

A whistle catches me off guard. I snap my head toward the source of the voice, and to my horror, Luca is staring at me.

Luca crosses his arms over his chest. "Look who we have here. Kellan's slave, who is apparently a girl without the tattoo."

Everyone's attention is immediately on me, even more so than before.

I try to ignore him, focusing on pouring mushroom soup into a bowl. My hand is slightly shaking when I proceed to grab the toast. I pray in my heart that he will just go away, but unfortunately, he walks in my direction instead.

I'm about to grab the drinks when I collide with someone's chest. I almost drop the tray. When I look up, I find Luca staring down at me with a smug grin. He's accompanied by two guys, who stand on each of his sides .

"Well, then." He raises an eyebrow mockingly. "Did he treat you better than we did?"

Chills run through my skin as I remember what this man has done to me. They laugh.

"Come on," his friend says. "You need to tell us if he gets bored with you already so that we can start teaching you a lot of wonderful things without crossing him."

"Unless our king wants to share." The other guy smirks. "It's risky." He tsks. "But maybe it's worth a try."

"Careful, guys," someone interrupts, and when I turn my head, I see a tanned guy with curly hair shooting a warning look at the three of them.

"As far as I remember, Kellan doesn't like to share.

Do you not remember the way he challenged us to fight him over Layla?

I would think a million times before going against him. "

My chest is filled with relief. Finally, someone is trying to knock some sense into them.

Luca's face hardens as he considers it.

Before Luca can make a move toward me, the guy who just stood up for me grabs my arm, dragging me away. "Come, Layla. I'll help you get the drinks."

I glance back at Luca and his friends. He mutters something under his breath before the three of them leave the kitchen. I sigh in relief.

"Thanks," I say to the person who just saved me.

He helps me put two bottles of water onto the tray I'm holding. "You're welcome." He smiles, and I'm thankful that there's kindness greeting me. "I'm Marco, by the way."

I follow him as he leads me back into the hallway.

I thought that he would go with me upstairs, but then he pushes me toward an area under the staircase, surprising me.

He corners me against the wall but still maintains a safe distance from me, as though he's trying to tell me that he's not going to hurt me.

"You have to be careful," he says. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

I huff. "Well, surprise. I'm indeed Kellan's caregiver. He just doesn't want to admit it."

Marco frowns. "That's the truth?" His mouth twitches in disapproval. "What a fucking jerk."

"Do you think that everyone is going to believe me?" I ask.

Marco stares down, as if he's deep in thought. Then he returns his gaze to me. "I don't know." There's guilt in his voice. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that they will unless you have a tattoo."

"Can I not work as a caregiver for Black Wings leader without being a part of it?" I ask. "I don't even want to be a member."

"Not a chance," Marco says truthfully. "The rules here are very clear. Non-members are not allowed to enter the property. It's not negotiable."

I swallow.

"Stay away from Luca," Marco says. "He's dangerous. He's no good for you."

I laugh humorlessly. "I'm very aware of that. Do you know him well?"

Marco shakes his head. "Not really, but enough to know what kind of person he is. My brother is the one close to him. I'm sorry, he took part in mocking you just now."

I can see Marco's anger radiating from his body, and it's flattering that he cares about me, unlike most people here .

"If nobody here won't believe my story unless I have a tattoo, what makes you believe me?" I ask, and when he gives me a questioning look, I quickly add, "Not that I have a problem with that. I just want to know why, because it means so much to me."

Marco's smile is back on his face. "Because I know how it feels."

I squint at him.

"Because I was once like you, Layla," he says. "I saw you when you first stepped into this place. You looked lost, so very lost. You didn't want to be here. You're not an intruder, and I knew it the moment I saw you for the first time."

His words almost make me cry. He's the only person in this place who believes me so easily.

Even Kellan couldn't do that.

"I was also like that," he says. "I was here because I was worried about my brother.

He sent a lot of money, but my family never figured out what he actually did.

I did tons of research and finally found out about Black Wings.

I was worried that he was involved in something dangerous, and it turned out that my fear was right.

Now, I'm stuck in this place too because I was looking for him. "

"I'm so sorry," I whisper. "I'm sorry that this happened to you."

He shakes his head again. "I'm okay now. I can survive. It's you I'm worried about. You're not supposed to be here. This place will ruin you. Kellan is blind, but he's a dangerous man. Tell me, did he touch you?"

Something glints in his eyes—a hint of possessiveness—but I don't want to think too much about it.

"No, he didn't," I say.

Marco smiles. "Good. Just let me know if you need anything." He suddenly kisses my cheek, startling me.

When I look up at him, he only gives me a playful smirk.

***

"Where the hell have you been?" Kellan's loud voice snaps at me the moment I come back into his room.

I close the door behind me with my foot and place the tray of food on the nightstand.

Kellan glares in my direction, already standing up with his arms crossed over his chest.

His temper makes my head spin, so I answer with the same irritated tone. "As far as I remember, you were sleeping on that chair, so forgive me if I didn't want to wake you up," I say sarcastically. "I also remember someone telling me to make it like I don't even exist in this room."

His lips form a thin line. "I was planning on asking you to come downstairs with me for breakfast."

My mouth hangs open.

He actually thought about that. I didn't expect it.

Slight guilt sips into me.

"Well, you don't have to do that anymore." My voice softens. "I brought our breakfast here."

He sniffs, and the sight is amusing.

"Yeah. It smells good," he mumbles. "Is it—"

"Mushroom soup," I finish for him, guessing that it's the food he's asking about because of its mouthwatering aroma.

I walk up to him with the bowl of mushroom soup in my hands. I place it on his desk, and he immediately sits behind it.

"Someone's hungry." I chuckle lightly. "Is it your favorite food?"

Kellan doesn't even bother to deny it, so I guess that it is.

He takes the spoon and carefully feeds himself, but then he suddenly splatters it, causing me to yelp in surprise.

"Careful. It's still hot—"

"Did you put fucking corn in it?" he hollers, it's almost comical to look at.

"What?" I echo.

"Corn," he hisses.

A light bulb pops in my head. He hates corn.

"I didn't know that you didn't like it," I blurt. "I wasn't the one who cooked it either, so it wasn't my fault."

He drops the spoon onto the tray, causing it to clatter with a loud sound, echoing in the room. His disappointment is all over his face, so I can't help but feel empathy.

"You can still eat it. I can help you with that." I approach him, but his body language is not so welcoming.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"I can feed you and make sure that the corn won't get into the spoon," I say.

He doesn't say anything right away, but one would cower under his angry stare. "Are you saying that you're going to fucking feed me? "

"Come on," I say. "Don't be a baby. It's not the time to argue. You're hungry. You're starving for your favorite food—"

"I'm not letting you feed me," he says with implacable authority.

I almost growl in frustration. "Then you can say bye-bye to your mushroom soup. How are you going to eat it without my help? How would you separate the tiny corns? My God, everybody likes corn. How in the world do you not like it—"

"Shut the fuck up," he barks to make me stop talking. "Goddammit, your voice is annoying."

I zip my mouth, trying to be professional. Working with a person with a temper like his requires never-ending patience.

We just argued like we were still in kindergarten, and I can't help but feel shame.

"So, are you going to let me feed you or not?" I ask, unable to hide my irritation.

He thinks for long seconds and then says in such a low voice, I almost can't hear it. "Just this once."

I try to muffle my laughter, taking the spoon in my hand. It's not every time that I hear a mafia leader admitting his defeat.

"Why didn't you just tell me that you were hungry when you woke up?" I ask. "You could have had your breakfast earlier."

"Because I knew that you would be hungry too, and that you needed me to feel safe downstairs to get your breakfast," he says, shocking me with his honesty. "I was waiting for you, but you took a goddamn long shower. I fell asleep while waiting for you."

I'm at a loss for words. Maybe Kellan Romero isn't as bad as he seems.

I smile, but he can't see it.

"Here comes the food," I hum.

He willingly opens his mouth. He swallows the soup, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

"No corn, right?" I ask.

He opens his eyes and sighs. "No corn," he whispers, causing me to smile again.

He looks contented now but still looks deadly. I wonder if a smile ever touches his lips again. That thought makes me want to work hard to earn it.

As I continue feeding him, I playfully try the airplane gesture. It fails miserably, only earning a deadly stare from him. I laugh, really hard. My laughing makes him freeze, so I abruptly stop my laughter.

"What?" I whisper.

"You're laughing," he says with a frown on his lips. "I think it's the first time I heard you laugh since you came here."

Now that I think about it, he's right.

I didn't think that I would ever laugh again here, but I did it.

The fact catches me by surprise too.

"I guess so."

"It's annoying," he scowls, and I think that I'm going to have a headache again. "Your laughter is so annoying."

Why does he have to ruin it?

I scoff, and the rest of my feeding him goes quiet.