Rebecca's pov
My mom told me that the only way to a man's heart was through his stomach... Was that how she put it? I don't know, all I know is that I felt proud at the delicious dishes lined up in front of me.
Leaving Emeliano's study, I couldn't stop thinking of ways to make him answer more questions, so I thought of food, it's not like I wanted to win his heart or anything? It's just that- he looked so tired and worn out and I really needed him to answer some of my questions... So food was my only option.
There's a zero possibility that this would work, but it's worth the try, right?
If I would have thought that being civilized would get me answers to some of my questions? I would have done that a long time ago.
Emeliano might be hard on the outside, but I was quite sure he was different from how he puts himself to be... He was better and more nicer. My family must have done something to make him cautious about everything around him. They changed him so much that he turned into whatever he thought he wanted me to see.
I don't think I'll ever get bothered by Emeliano's harsh words or actions, because I know that he doesn't really mean anything he says. He would just say awful things to make me angry and scared of him...
But that was before, when I was still new to his cold hard stone behavior. Now, I'm bolder and ready to do whatever it takes to unravel whatever mystery is behind all these unanswered questions.
If he could gather the courage to apologize to me for asking me to strip naked in front of him, then I guess there was still a little heart beating in his well defined chest.
"This looks amazing Becca, but I doubt Sir Emeliano would have anything from this table." Greta said.
"Why? It's food, nobody rejects food."
"If the sir doesn't like you, then he won't like your food." Pablo chipped in, dropping the last wine on the table. "But don't worry, we're here to enjoy these delicious delicacies."
"Thanks Pablo... I really love cooking... You should come visit my restaurant in New York, it is like the best."
"Really?" Greta asked.
"Yeah, I always get praises from my customers and it is always busy... If you want to cook for different people? Then I think it should be made out of love... I mean, what is a meal without love?"
"So, you're in love with the sir?" Pablo asked.
My eyes widened. "What? No... I'm not... I have a boyfriend... And trust me, even if I was given a billion dollars to fall in love with Emeliano, I'll gladly reject it."
"I'm worth more than a billion dollars, thanks for the compliment." Emeliano's voice filled the atmosphere with thick tension as Greta and Pablo scrambled their way out of the dinning room.
I turned to his direction to see him leaning on the doorway like he couldn't stand properly on his own, his hair looked worse than before and he had obvious dark circles around his eyes... His suit was unbuttoned and there was no tie in sight, his inner white shirt had two buttons left undone, making him look like a model... A drunk model.
It was apparent that he was high on alcohol, the way he slurred in his words and the way he was actually looking at me with pure irritation.
"Are you drunk?" I had to ask.
"Are you blind?" He replied with a question as his eyes scanned the table. "Who the fuck gave you the righht, to doo all this? How dare you make these awful looking things that you call food? Who eats cup cake with chocolate icing for dinner? Why is there a worm looking spaghetti on my table? Huh?"
"I refuse to get hurt by your stupid words Emeliano, it's obvious that you're drunk... And actually- wait? Did go out earlier? Of course you went out... Did you drive back like this? Did you do drunk driving? Oh my god! Do you know what could have happened to you? Are you crazy?" I rushed to him but he moved away, holding his hands Infront of me.
"Stop there! Don't coommee any closer... Why are you acting like you actually care? Pfft... Like sister like sister."
I bit back a chuckle, but I was pretty sure a smile was plastered on my face... He actually looked really cute... I think I prefer the drunk Emeliano than the sober one.
"Emeliano, you need water, just come with me-" I reached out to him but he pushed my hand away.
"You deaf or something? Don't touch me! Just get those ugly looking dishes from my table... It smells really awful, looks unappetizing, just like you!"
I frowned this time. "Okay, seriously- I don't care if you're drunk or not but I won't have you calling the work of my hands unappetizing! Now come with me-"
"The work of your hands is unappetizing, horrible and evil! You're a witch- a wicked one, just like that bitch you call a sister- no she's not a bitch... She's just confused, she's a confused woman... But you- you're not confused, you're smart- no... You're not smart, you're stupid- you're smart and stupid... And reeellly ugly... No, you're not ugly, you're worse than ugly- you're a troll... No... Trolls are actually more beautiful than you... You're so beautiful it makes everyone look ugly." He chuckled and moved to the stairs with shaky legs. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."
I just looked at him- I should be feeling really angry at his words but I'm not, instead, I'm worried, he doesn't look okay, not one bit.
I sighed and walked up to him. "Are you okay? Did something happen?" I asked and watched him turn mid way on the stairs.
"You even sound like her? Why? No- you don't sound like her, you sound better than her... Whatever, just stay away from me - you and your self." He muttered, walking to the direction of his room.
I sighed, walking back to the kitchen.
"That's a first." Pablo said.
"Indeed, he has never gotten this drunk before... Did you do anything?" Greta asked.
I Shrugged. "Not that I know of..."
"I guess it's about Marcos, you know he married that bitch right?" Pablo said to Greta.
"I know- maybe he didn't take the news all too well." Greta murmured. "That boy has been through enough, I think I'll give his mom a call..." Greta walked out of the kitchen.
"You should talk to him, try and calm him down... If you can." Pablo said, "He did call you beautiful didn't he? He may or may not listen to us but I'm pretty sure he'd listen to you- cause I've known that boy since he was a kid, he has never called anyone beautiful- not even his mom... or that bitch he once called a fiancee."
"Do you know her?" I asked him.
"It's actually not my place to tell... I might be in trouble, but I have a feeling you'll get to know her soon..." Pablo smiled and left the kitchen too.
I stood there in silence, contemplating on whether to talk to him or to leave him alone for the night.. but something propelled my legs to the room.
Maybe I could use his state to my advantage... Does that sound right?
It doesn't sound right, but it sure as hell feels right... I might not get answers but I was pretty sure I'd think of something to lure my first suspect to this mansion by tomorrow morning...
Without thinking further into the issue? I proceeded into the room.