21.

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Daisy came back to my place after investigating the 44 below with Katherine. Katherine, on the other hand, went back home. I received all the pieces of information that I needed, but not enough to understand what was going on with Carmine and his plan. Falcone used to work for my father before he died, but I didn't trust him one bit when I found out he's corruptive, like the entire government. It was evident as he was surrounded by other D.A's, dealing with whatever they were necessarily hiding from everyone.

I walk inside the kitchen after hearing the sound of a slight thud. However, my mind calculated pretty quickly to know it was Daisy. The time stands at six in the morning, yet I can only imagine what her mind is disturbing her with.

My arm leans towards the doorway, watching her fill up the glass at the sink. She quickly darts her eyes towards me with a soft smile.

"Who's Nate?" I quickly blur out, which made her chuckle.

"It's just a guy I know. He prepares my coffee every morning. A sweet one." She says, taking a sip from her water. "Is that really what you came to ask?"

I was, to be honest, but it would've been very obvious to her that I care when I don't.

My arms cross as I reveal a shrug slipping through my lips. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," Daisy says quietly. "I'm just thinking about what Carmine said. Now that Tom is dead, I could go back ho-"

"No." I instantly interrupted, which made her glance at me in confusion. "It's dangerous."

I hoped she wouldn't ask how is it dangerous, but indeed she wasn't stupid.

"How is it dangerous if he is dead?"

And there she went, asked me exactly what I thought. My mind instantly came up with something.

"The box you received from your office. Nobody knows who the guy is, and the fact he delivered it to you, he must've puzzling things together."

She places her cup in the sink and walks closer to the door. "Yeah, you're right. Perhaps I should stay here a little." She lifts her eyes a little to look directly at mine. "Do you want to sleep in your bed? I have an idea that the mattress isn't the same in the guest room as in your room."

She was right. The mattress was completely different than the guest room. I didn't think I would ever use the guest room, knowing I live alone. And surely there are no guests that have been visiting me. Not because I felt less important than who I am, but because I didn't want them to come over. After my father and mother had been killed, the gatherings were over after the incident, and I made sure they didn't come around.

I shake my head a little. She responds with a soft 'alright' before disappearing into the hallway.

I remember when she left the first time, my bed smelled like roses with a touch of vanilla. I don't use body lotion, for that matter, but I knew it was her scent. Nevertheless, I had to get my bed cleaned up, but something inside of me insisted on not doing it. It was her smell. Her unique smell. The scent of roses from the quilt is planted onto the pillow and the rest of the mattress. Regardless, I did get it cleaned up.

My feet trail back into the guest room with the thought of my bed smelling like her, which made me smile a little.






I spend my morning trying to fix my motorcycle in the garage. Alfred made sure to leave breakfast for Daisy as usual and make it known that I wasn't home if she started to explore the manor and find the fourth floor, the headquarters.

Nothing was too complicated for me, but it still needed to be fixed if I had to use it for future reference. On the other hand, I couldn't stop wandering my mind on this guy, Nate.

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