Chapter 109: Mi Tingting Blong Yu

“Mi really do good dis time,” Leitana said, beaming as she stepped back to admire the tie. The knot was still crooked—hopelessly, adorably crooked—but it was better than the last five attempts. She clasped her hands together, proud as a child showing off her first drawing.

Ravial glanced down at her handiwork. A slow, genuine smile curved his lips—the rare kind that reached past the blindfold and made her stomach flip.

“Yes, you did good, wife,” he murmured.

Her cheeks flushed instantly. She started to step down from the chair she’d been standing on, but Ravial was already there—hands firm around her waist, lifting her gently until her bare feet touched the cool wood floor.

“Mi like when yu call mi wife,” she whispered, looking up at him with those big hazel eyes.

He leaned down, rubbing their noses together in that soft, intimate way that always made her giggle.

“Is that right?” he teased. “But my favorite is little lamb.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Mi know yu like dat name plenty, but mi no understand why yu always call mi dat. Mi like wife better.”

He smirked—slow, devastating. “Because you remind me of one. Innocent. Soft. Trusting. Wandering right into the wolf’s den without fear… because you trust the wolf won’t bite.”

She blinked up at him, confused but charmed. “But mi wan give yu endearment too.”

Ravial tilted his head. “I thought ‘mi Ravial’ was your endearment for me.”

She pulled back slightly, frowning. “No. Yu jus’ mi Ravial. Mine. But mi wan somethin’ special. Somethin’ sweet. Like yu call mi lamb.”

He chuckled, amused. “Hmmm. My wife wants to give me a pet name. Okay.” He stepped back, giving her space, arms folding casually across his chest. “What would you like to call me? Honey? Darling? Sweetheart?”

Her eyes went wide. Neck and cheeks flushed scarlet.

“No no no!” she squeaked, waving her hands. “No dose! Mi wan somethin’ different. Mi need to tink.”

Ravial laughed softly, genuine this time and turned to the dresser. He picked up his watch, sliding it onto his wrist with practiced ease. He could feel her eyes on him the whole time, burning, thoughtful, determined.

“Mi still tinkin’,” she announced, bouncing slightly on her toes.

He fastened the clasp. “I’m about to go. You have piano classes today, right?”

“Yes yes!” She rushed to the drawer, yanked it open, and pulled out one of his black boxer briefs, silk, expensive, and far too big for her.

Ravial froze mid-motion.

She stepped into them quickly, pulling them up under the dress shirt. The waistband bunched at her hips, the legs hanging loose around her thighs.

He stared.

Then: “What… are you doing?”

Leitana looked up, innocent. “Mi can’t go downstairs in jus’ yu shirt. Dat no proper.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose under the blindfold. “You’re wearing my boxers. As pants.”

“Dem comfortable!” she defended, twirling once. The shirt flared, showing flashes of black silk underneath. “And dem long. Like shorts.”

Ravial shook his head, slow, disbelieving but there was a smile tugging at his mouth.

“You’re impossible.”

She beamed.

They walked downstairs together, her in his shirt and boxers, barefoot, hair still messy from sleep; him in a custom suit with a crooked tie and a look of resigned adoration.

In the dining room, breakfast was laid out, fresh fruit, bacon, coffee, eggs but Ravial didn’t sit.

“I won’t be eating, baby,” he said. “I’m late.”

Leitana nodded absently, still clearly lost in thought about the pet name, staring at a mango like it might give her inspiration.

Ravial stepped close, tilted her chin up, and kissed her forehead, slow and lingering.

“Have a good day,” he murmured. “I’ll come back early. We’ll fulfill your new wish.”

She blinked up at him, distracted but smiling. “Okay.”

He turned to leave.

Halfway to his car, she gasped.

“Ravial!”

He paused, glancing back.

Leitana came running, bare feet slapping the stone steps clutching something small in her fist.

She skidded to a stop in front of him, breathless, eyes shining.

“Mi tink of it,” she said proudly.

He raised a brow.

She stepped closer, rose on her toes, and whispered against his ear:

“Mi tingting blong yu.”

Translation: “My heart of you” / “My sweetheart” in Bislama, the most tender, intimate endearment in Vanuatu Pidgin, literally meaning “my thinking belongs to you” or “you are the one my heart thinks of.”

Ravial went very still.

She pulled back just enough to see his face.

“Dat mean… yu de one mi heart tink about all de time. Mi tingting blong yu. Forever.”

For one second, Ravial Ashbourne looked genuinely stunned.

Then he laughed, rough, real.

He cupped her face with both hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks.

“Say it again.”

She smiled, shy and radiant.

“Mi tingting blong yu.”

He closed his eyes behind the blindfold like the words physically touched him.

Then he leaned down and kissed her, deep, claiming, hungry.

When he pulled back, his voice was wrecked.

“You’re going to ruin me, little lamb.”

She giggled, then suddenly remembered the mint in her hand.

She unwrapped it quickly, holding it up to his lips.

“Yu no eat anyting but mi private part,” she said solemnly, cheeks flaming. “So take dis. Mint. Make mouth fresh.”

Behind them, Lucius, standing discreetly near the car choked violently on whatever he’d been drinking, sputtering and coughing into his sleeve.

Ravial didn’t even glance at him.

He stared at the mint.

Then at her.

Then he opened his mouth.

She popped it in.

He crunched it once, eyes never leaving hers.

“Better?” she asked, hopeful.

He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear.

“Everything about you is better,” he whispered. “Even your terrible tie knots. Even your borrowed boxers. Even your ridiculous pet name.”

She giggled again, bright, happy.

He kissed her once more, quick, possessive.

“I’ll be back early, tingting blong mi.”

Her whole face lit up.

He turned, slid into the car, and the door closed with a soft click.

Leitana stood on the steps, barefoot, in his shirt and boxers, hair wild, mint wrapper still in her hand, watching the Maybach disappear down the drive.

She hugged herself, smiling so wide it hurt.

“Mi tingting blong yu,” she whispered to the empty driveway.

And somewhere inside the car, the devil smiled, small, private, happy.

Because she had just given him the only thing more powerful than his empire.

A name only she would ever call him.

And he would burn the world before he let anyone take it away.