I expected him to begin to speak, but he didn't. He simply focused on his food, which made me focus on mine. It was delicious, and I wanted to savor it before negotiations turned sour.
Nico poured us both another glass, which I downed even as he did the same. But this time around, I began to speak.
"I need to find out who killed Father and who kidnapped me—if they are the same person," I explained. "…The longer it takes, the harder it will be to find clues."
I watched him nod his head as he took another spoonful from his bowl with his chopsticks—something he was pretty adept at using.
"I can't do that while being a prisoner in your house," I continued, restraining myself from pouring a third drink too quickly.
I even stopped eating, my eyes focused on him, not wanting to miss even the tiniest bit of whatever he wanted to say.
"…That's understandable," he said with a small nod of his head. He shifted slightly beside me and reached out to snatch a dumpling, which he seemed to find particularly appetizing, chewing on it slowly without any apparent urgency in his movements.
"What do you want?" I went ahead and asked when it quickly became clear that he had every intention of taking his time.
"What I want? I did pay a billion dollars to buy you," he said, and I recalled that he had indeed paid such a huge amount of money—the kind I wouldn't be able to pay back anytime soon.
"I can pay in installments once Father's territory is—"
But this time he didn't let me finish.
"…You're assuming the territory would be yours. Your father was quite eccentric," he said, pointing out something I was already aware of.
"…He could have left you with nothing."
He turned to face me with half his body as he stretched out his chopsticks again, grabbing from a different bowl of rice this time.
Clearly, he had every intention of enjoying the feast.
Silently, I also ate a bit, taking time to organize my thoughts. I was the supplicant. He was in the stronger position. I was the one who needed to offer something he wanted.
"You wouldn't have asked me to dinner or bought me if there wasn't something I could do for you," I said after swallowing the food I had just finished chewing, meeting his gaze.
Doing my best to convey my determination not to accept no for an answer.
"I'll ask again. What do you want?"
I wondered if he would still deny that there was a hidden agenda to why he had bought me, only to see him place his chopsticks down and pour another glass of baijiu. It was at least forty percent, and it bothered me how quickly Nico was gulping it down.
He poured a drink for both of us.
I gulped mine down, trying not to make a face at how hot it burned as it slid down my throat. From the corner of my eye, I caught Nico smile faintly, emptying his cup without a single change in expression.
"There is something I want," he finally said.
He placed his glass on the table and twirled his fingers around the rim, his gaze fixed on it as I fixed mine on him.
"…But I don't think you can do it."
"I can," I responded before he had barely finished. "If it's a job or something you want done, I can definitely do it."
I was confident that even if I had to kill someone, I would. I had killed before. I just didn't enjoy it.
But this time he raised his gaze and leaned closer in a way that felt far more predatory than it should have.
His intense stare settled on my face before sliding slowly down to my lips.
My heart seemed to miss a beat, almost like I knew exactly what he was about to ask.
Quietly, his gaze dropped even lower—to my neck—where I all but stiffened. I watched his eyes darken as they continued downward to the white blouse I wore.
My hands tightened around my glass.
"What is it?" I asked, hating the sinking feeling that I wasn't going to like whatever came out of his mouth.
"I'm attracted to you, Carmen. How many times do I have to say it?" he said, his voice low and his gaze so serious that it was hard to believe he was lying.
"If I want something, I get it—which is why I bought you."
He paused only briefly before continuing.
"…I saw you, and I wanted you in my bed and under me."
My throat constricted as I turned my gaze away from him and toward the food on the table.
The distance between us was barely a foot, but the tension had doubled, thick and suffocating.
"…It was a sudden decision," he continued. "It helped that I also wanted to make you pay for lying and having me sent out."
His voice remained calm—almost conversational.
"If you had lied to me, I would have drugged you, gotten my pound of flesh, and then sold you to one of my escort houses. You would have been chained up, but well taken care of, attending to clients with bizarre fetishes."
My heart began to race.
It was clear he was telling the truth. At least most of it.
"…Watching you cry in front of me, however, made me change my mind," he continued, grabbing the half-empty bottle and pouring us another drink.
One into my glass.
One into his.
"…Not to chain you. But I still have every intention of fucking you."
I had to grit my teeth together to school my expression into a blank mask—one that threatened to crack as I turned to look at him.
His dark eyes were fixed on me with such intensity that I had the sudden urge to scoot away.
For a moment, however, I simply took a slow breath, trying to steady myself.
Then I grabbed the glass and downed it, wiping my lips before dropping the cup back onto the table. I heard him do the same as my mind churned for the right words to say next.
Only to feel him lean toward me the very next second—much closer than he should be.
I turned to look at him with a glare, only to find a smug look spreading across his face.
"…This is non-negotiable," he said.
His voice was quiet, certain.
"…I'm not asking for your heart, it's just sex."