Chapter 42: Chapter Forty One

Athena

Eros tried to act indifferent to my gratitude, but I caught it—the fleeting softness in his eyes before he masked it again. I didn’t push. Instead, I focused on my meal, letting the café’s warmth and his presence wrap around me like a quiet reassurance.

If someone had told me months ago that the only person I could rely on would be Eros Belmonte, I would have laughed and called them crazy. Yet here we were, sitting in a café late at night, sharing a moment of quiet companionship. Well, at least I was enjoying his company. I wasn’t sure about him.

"I... I don’t need all those clothes, you know," I murmured quietly.

Eros leaned back in his chair, watching me with quiet amusement. "You do. Those weren’t your clothes. And even if they were, you deserve better. Don’t you feel good dressed in something beautiful?" He asked, arching a brow.

I pressed my lips together, tracing the rim of my coffee cup. "I’m not used to people doing things for me." I said.

Eros shrugged, taking a sip of his espresso. "Maybe it’s time you got used to it." His tone was casual, but there was an underlying finality to it.

I scoffed lightly, shaking my head. "That’s easy for you to say. You act like money fixes everything."

His gaze darkened slightly. "It doesn’t. But it makes things easier. And right now, you need something easy." He said.

I sighed, stirring my coffee absentmindedly. "I don’t even know why you’re doing this," I muttered. "You must have more important things to do than… babysit me."

Eros leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Well, you’re not wrong," he admitted with a slight shrug. "By now, I’d probably be studying or tutoring a student over Skype. But I’m here because I want to be. And for the record, this isn’t babysitting—it’s just helping out a schoolmate."

I met his gaze, uncertain whether to believe him. "And that’s enough?" I asked.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "For now." He answered.

Just then, the waiter arrived with dessert—freshly baked croissants, red velvet cake, a bowl of fruit drizzled with honey, a rich chocolate and coffee-layered cake, and another cup of coffee. I blinked at the lavish spread in front of me as he cleared my plate, replacing Eros’s espresso with a fresh one.

"You think I eat like this every day?" I asked, staring at him in disbelief.

This was far more food than I ever had at home. Beatrix always instructed the cook to serve me small portions, insisting that I needed to watch my weight. It had been that way for years, so I never questioned it. My stomach had long since adjusted to eating so little, and now, I had no idea how he expected me to finish all of this.

"I think you should," he said with a chuckle.

I shook my head, still struggling to wrap my mind around everything. "This feels surreal. A few hours ago, I had nothing. Now, I have new clothes, food, and… whatever this is." I admitted as I picked up a croissant, almost hesitantly.

"A fresh start," he said simply, mirroring my action as he reached for his own croissant.

I hesitated before speaking, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do I even deserve one?"

"Yes." His response was firm, his gaze locking onto mine with quiet intensity. "Don't sell yourself short, Athena."

I swallowed hard as the weight of everything I'd been through pressed down on me all at once. My fingers toyed with the flaky edges of my pastry, my appetite suddenly faltering. He noticed.

"Eat, Athena," he urged, his voice softer now.

I huffed out a small breath, feigning a frown. "You keep saying my name like it means something."

"Maybe it does," he replied, smirking.

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought Eros Belmonte—Emerald Crest’s Ice Prince—was flirting with me. The idea was absurd, so I pushed it aside. The last thing I wanted was to say something that might annoy him and make him abandon me. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if he left me alone.

For a while, we ate in silence. The café’s warmth wrapped around us, offering an unexpected sense of solace. The scent of fresh pastries and coffee filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of the city outside. Even with a few other patrons scattered throughout the shop, it felt like it was just the two of us.

After a few moments of trying to gather my thoughts, I cleared my throat. "So, um… what now?" I asked hesitantly.

Eros met my gaze, his expression turning serious. "That depends. What happened to you?" He studied me closely. "Did you go home? You were obviously coming from there."

I nodded. "Yeah. Beatrix ordered the security guards not to let me in."

His brows furrowed. "Why?"

"I don’t know." I said, inhaling sharply. "It must’ve been because of what the officers told me. Beatrix thought I stole from her."

His frown deepened. "She didn’t even come out to see you?" he asked, disbelief lacing his voice, as if he couldn't comprehend how Beatrix could be so heartless.

I let out a bitter laugh, though it held no humor. "I begged them to let me see her," I admitted, my voice trembling as tears clogged my throat. "They refused. One of them even threatened me with a gun."

The memory sent a shudder through me. I lifted a hand to my face, pressing my fingers to my eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill over. Only when I was sure I had control over my emotions did I lower my hand again.

Eros watched me in silence, his sharp gray eyes following the way I lifted the cup to my lips. A wave of self-consciousness washed over me—I knew exactly what he was thinking. He had seen me cry. He had witnessed the way my body trembled when he found me walking alone on the road.

I stole a quick glance at him and caught the slight clench of his jaw, as if he were holding back words he wanted to say.

Without a word, he leaned forward and pushed the bowl of fruit toward me. "You should eat more."

I blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by the gentle tone of his voice. I had already finished a plate of classic French beef stew, slow-simmered in red wine with carrots and potatoes, served with crusty bread. Now, I was working my way through a slice of cake, yet my stomach still felt unsettled.

"I'm fine," I murmured, looking away.

"You're not fine, so don't pretend to be," Eros countered, his voice firm but not unkind. "At least, not in front of me. You haven’t been fine since you disappeared."

A heavy silence settled between us. I traced the rim of my cup with my finger, trying to gather my thoughts before finally meeting his gaze. His steady, unwavering eyes—ones I had once feared—now held nothing but concern. Somehow, that steadiness grounded me, easing the storm inside me.

"I... I didn’t disappear on purpose," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

I hadn't told the police about Scarlett. Fear of what she might do if the truth got out had kept me silent. But Eros... I knew he would be discreet.

"Okay?" he said, his voice calm, as if letting me know he was listening. "I know that."

"No, I mean…" I took a breath, steadying myself before speaking the words that had been suffocating me. "Scarlett had me kidnapped."