Chapter 19: Little Rose
The journey home was filled with silence, but not a peaceful one. In the driver's seat, Frans occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror with a sour face. His lips moved, muttering quietly but clearly enough to be heard in the soundproof car cabin.
"Top graduate of the military academy... bomb disposal specialist... and now ending up as a muddy driver," Frans muttered while turning the steering wheel with one hand. His eyes darted to the red mud stains clinging to the billion-dollar velvet car carpet. "Boss, if these clay stains don't come off this limited edition carpet, don't cut my salary. Just cut the salary of those thugs."
In the back seat, Xavier stared at his assistant and old friend flatly.
"Focus on driving, Frans. Or I will cut your tongue, not your salary."
"Tsk. Cruel," Frans sneered quietly, but he wasn't afraid. He glanced briefly at the woman beside his boss through the mirror. "Besides, this Madam Boss is... extraordinary. First day meeting her, and it's already like this. I'm starting to doubt who is more dangerous here, Xavier or your wife."
Xavier didn't respond to Frans' chatter, but the corner of his lips lifted slightly. He turned to the side, looking at Agatha who was leaning weakly against the window with her eyes closed.
"You aren't sleeping?" Xavier asked, ignoring Frans.
Agatha opened her eyes slightly without changing her position. "How can I sleep if your assistant is so noisy complaining about this and that?"
"Hear that, Frans?" Xavier scolded. "My wife is disturbed."
Frans snorted, rolling his eyes. "Copy that, Boss. I'm silent. Please continue your romantic moment."
Agatha chuckled softly, a weak but genuine laugh. "You're funny too. What was your name again? Frans?"
"Francisco, Ma'am. But just call me Frans. If you call me 'Honey', a lion might go on a rampage," Frans answered casually while winking one eye through the mirror.
Xavier kicked the back of the driver's seat lightly. "One more time you flirt with my wife, I will drop you here."
"Mercy, Boss."
The car finally stopped smoothly in the apartment lobby. Frans immediately turned off the engine, his face turning serious again, switching to professional mode in an instant.
"We have arrived," Frans reported.
He grabbed a large black umbrella and rushed out to open the door for his master.
The rear passenger door opened. Frans was about to open the umbrella, but Xavier raised a hand, stopping his assistant's movement.
"No need, Frans," Xavier ordered coldly while stepping out of the car, ignoring the raindrops starting to wet the shoulders of his expensive suit.
"Take this car. Clean the remaining mud you complained about earlier. Then you can go home. Don't disturb me until tomorrow afternoon."
Frans, who was perceptive, immediately nodded in understanding while suppressing an amused smile. He knew his boss wanted full private mode tonight.
"Ready, Boss. Enjoy your hot night... I mean, have a good rest."
Xavier glared sharply. Frans hurriedly got back into the driver's seat and drove the car away from the lobby, leaving his boss who was drunk on romance.
Agatha, who was still sitting inside the car with the door open, was about to lower her feet onto the wet asphalt. However, Xavier's shadow blocked her.
The man bent down at the car door, blocking Agatha's exit.
"What are you doing?" Agatha asked warily.
"Carrying you. Your feet are dirty."
"I can walk by myself, Xav. My shoes only got mud on them, not landmines."
"And dirty my penthouse lobby? No, thank you."
Without listening to Agatha's protests anymore, Xavier slipped one arm under Agatha's knees. His other hand deftly removed Agatha's boots, then he lifted the woman's body in a bridal style carry with ease using only one arm, while his other hand dangled her muddy boots.
"Xavier! Put me down! People are watching!" Agatha hissed while hitting her husband's broad chest lightly. "This is embarrassing! And also, why did you bring me here?"
"Let them see who owns you. Of course, I want to be alone with my wife," Xavier answered lightly. He walked casually past the receptionist who bowed respectfully. "Besides, you are so light. What do you eat?"
"I eat everything," Agatha retorted.
"Ah, right." Xavier smirked faintly. "No wonder your body is warm."
The elevator dinged, taking them directly to the penthouse. Xavier did not put Agatha down in the living room, but carried her straight to the spacious master bathroom.
He sat Agatha on the edge of the cold marble bathtub.
"Wait here. Don't move," Xavier ordered.
"Where are you going? Getting a chainsaw to cut off my dirty legs?"
"Good idea, but not tonight."
Xavier turned on the warm water tap, then took a small towel. He returned and knelt right in front of Agatha's legs.
Agatha's eyes widened. "Hey! What are you doing?"
"Be quiet. I want to clean this mud."
"I can do it myself, Xav."
"No one can forbid me from touching you," Xavier answered flatly.
Agatha fell silent. her tongue was tied hearing that possessive tone. She let Xavier clean her legs one by one.
"Cold?" Xavier asked when touching the skin of Agatha's leg.
"A little."
Xavier wet the towel with warm water. "This will feel comfortable. Hold on a second."
Xavier started wiping Agatha's calf with diligent movements. Silence returned, but this time it felt more intimate.
"Taking care of people. For a mafia boss whose hobby is shooting people in the head, your hands are quite gentle," Agatha said, breaking the silence.
Xavier snorted in amusement without looking up. "I have to ensure my expensive goods remain smooth without scratches."
"Tch. Crazy merchant."
Xavier continued cleaning up to the knee. Agatha's knit dress hiked up a little, revealing her side thigh which was splattered with mud quite high.
"Lift your dress a little," Xavier ordered. "The mud is up to the top."
"I can clean that part myself..."
"Agatha." Xavier's tone sharpened, full of warning.
Agatha rolled her eyes lazily. "Fine, Mr. Bossy."
Agatha pulled her dress up a little. Xavier returned to wiping the skin of Agatha's side thigh with the warm towel.
However, suddenly his hand movement stopped completely.
Agatha frowned. "Why stop? Is it still dirty?"
Xavier did not answer. His eyes were fixed on one spot on Agatha's left side thigh. A natural reddish birthmark shaped like the petals of a rose.
A thin smile rose on Xavier's lips. A smile full of meaning.
His memory drifted to the past. To a rainy night fifteen years ago.
The little girl with hazel eyes came limping, dragging herself to hide. Her shabby skirt was torn large on the side because it got caught on barbed wire when she recklessly climbed the fence to steal bread.
Xavier remembered well, the girl did not cry over her leg. She instead tore the rest of her skirt roughly to use as a bandage, wrapping the severe wound on Xavier's stomach.
When the cloth was pulled by force, Xavier saw a long scratch wound on the girl's side thigh, right next to the rose-shaped birthmark.
"It's still there," Xavier thought warmly.
Xavier looked up slowly. The look in his eyes changed. There was no more playful glint or arrogance, only a strange warmth.
"Rose," Xavier murmured softly, barely audible.
"What?"
"This mark," Xavier's index finger touched the birthmark. "It's shaped like a rose."
Agatha swatted Xavier's hand lightly. Her face turned red. "That's just a regular birthmark. Don't keep staring, are you a pervert?"
"You used to have a wound next to it," Xavier said suddenly.
Agatha furrowed her brow. "Huh? What wound?"
"A long scratch wound. Hit by the fence's barbed wire," Xavier continued, his eyes distant, looking at Agatha intently. "Your skirt was torn, your leg was bleeding, but you tore the rest of your clothes to bandage my wound. You cared more about me than your own leg."
"What are you talking about? I don't remember ever doing such a heroic thing."
Xavier smiled faintly. "Of course you forgot. You were too busy saving someone's life at that time."
"Hero? Xav, are you drunk? We didn't drink alcohol earlier."
Xavier did not answer the question. He instead lowered his head, bringing his face closer to Agatha's side thigh.
"Hey! Xav! What are you..."
Agatha's words stopped when Xavier's lips pressed softly right on top of that birthmark.
Agatha held her breath. Her body tensed. The sensation of warm lips sent electric shocks to all her nerves. It wasn't a kiss of lust, but a kiss of worship.
Xavier pulled his face away, but his hand still held Agatha's calf.
"Beautiful," Xavier said sincerely. "This mark is very beautiful."
Agatha turned her face away.
Xavier chuckled seeing Agatha's reddened ears, then stood up. He threw the dirty towel into the basket.
"Go take a shower. The hot water is ready."
"Where are you going?" Agatha asked, feeling a little loss.
"Making hot chocolate," Xavier answered while walking to the door. "My mother's recipe. You need sugar to soothe your tense nerves."
"I don't like sweets."
"You will like it if I make it," Xavier replied confidently. He stopped at the doorway and turned around. "And Agatha?"
"What else?"
"Don't lock the door. Who knows, you might need help scrubbing your back."
A shampoo bottle flew from Agatha's hand, hitting the door that Xavier had just closed.
"PERVERTED BASTARD!" Agatha shouted.
But behind the door, Xavier smiled widely. Very widely.
"Finally," he whispered to the silent hallway. "Finally we are together, Little Rose."