The Handsome Devil II: Redemption

Chapter 17 - Bon Appetit

"You like?" A voice echoed.

But she didn't have to wait for the figure to appear in the doorway before the doom fully hit her.

The question was, if Max is in her flat right now, where the hell is Jamie?

"This was you?" Deya asked as she glanced to the tree.

However, it would be a lie saying she wasn't more interested in what's in front of her. From some reason, Max decided to abandon his usual 'bad boy' attire for a suit, the sight of his tattoos peeking from under a shirt intriguing her.

"Technically it was the designer team, but.." Max replied with a shrug, seeming almost proud of himself.

And although she suspected he was no Martha Stewart, the confession made her see red.

"So, let me get this straight," Her fingers pinched the root of her nose. "Not only you broke into my apartment, you let a bunch of strangers roam it?"

She looked at him as if he tried eating soup with a fork.

"I was here to oversee--" He defended himself, but it was futile.

"That's not the point. You violated my privacy."

His brow furrowed, and Deya couldn't help but think she shouldn't have to explain that.

"What are you even doing here?" Her finger buried into his chest. "I still have a day left,"

"I wanted to surprise you," The devil mumbled, noticeably annoyed.

It goes without saying that he imagined this going down differently.

"You have to stop doing that," The girl hissed back, being reminded of their last encounter.

It seemed that allowing herself to relax was enough to summon the devil, and she didn't like the trick a bit.

"Where's Jamie?" She continued, ignoring the way he flinched at the sound of her ex's name.

"The guys took care of him," He growled, making her freeze for a second.

"What?!"

"Don't worry," He rolled his eyes. "You'll have your loverboy back in couple of hours."

"I better," She hissed, giving him a once over.

But as relieved as she was to hear that Jamie's alright, there was a dark urge prompting her to correct him on the loverboy part.

What's wrong with me?

"Would you finally say why you're here?" She sighed, the fire inside her slowly dying.

"To have a dinner," Maximón stated, expression stone hard. "And we better get to it before the food gets cold."

"I'm full, thanks," Deya exaggerated the three christmas cookies she ate earlier, hoping to get him lay his cards on the table.

There's no way this is all about dinner. And even if, the way he made himself home was getting her fired again.

"Then you can join me for a chat while I eat," The devil commanded, and the next she knows, he's pulling her towards the kitchen.

She did plan on fighting back, and an avalanche of curses made its way past her lips.

But the moment they reached the door, everything fell into an impenetrable silence.

Tiny star-shaped lights hung in strings from her curtain rod, drowning the room in blue. There were  tea towels with snowflakes next to oven, and a set of red and gold mugs with coasters.