Chapter 159 A Farewell Written in Fire
POV Mikhail:
Maya really went to meet that son of a bitch Burt. She didn’t think twice—she just got ready and left. Four days and she’s gone. Shouldn’t she be spending this time with us? I understand we can’t give her what she wants, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t grown closer or that we don’t enjoy her company, because I do. Now I’m here alone making lunch, who knows how long she’ll be gone.
Yesterday, while my brothers and I were gathered in the living room listening to Maya and Luca fucking in the room upstairs, I felt something strange settle in my stomach for the first time. And it had nothing to do with them having sex, but with the fact that they were doing it without us. If my brothers felt the same way, they didn’t say anything. We kept pretending to watch the movie while Maya’s screams filled the entire house. After an hour, when the noises finally stopped, Luca came down the stairs and told us what she’d said.
“She wants to use the nights she still has here to say goodbye to us. Today it was me, tomorrow it’ll be one of you.”
After that, nothing else needed to be said. If she wanted a farewell, I would give it to her—especially since I haven’t had her even once since she entered our lives. And I want her. At least one fucking time, I want to hear her moaning my name. I glanced at Adrian, and my brother knew that was the moment for our agreement to happen.
Now I’m here simmering with a rage I can’t even name. Just thinking about her with Burt makes me even more irritated. Friends? Really? I close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself down. This anger is making me think things that shouldn’t even cross my mind. I go back to preparing my pasta, which no longer looks or tastes the way it does when she’s beside me helping. Maybe this is the perfect moment to try cooking something else.
Enough with the pasta!
...
I look at the food I’ve just cooked and sigh, not liking what I see. But it’s better this way—why keep making pasta when there are so many other dishes that can be made? I assess the look of the meat sauce and believe it’s better than the pasta, and I made it alone, without her help. It’s definitely wonderful.
I place the huge pot on the table, cut slices of bread, and set them beside the plates. I smile, pleased with myself for the accomplishment. No more Maya in this— I mean, no more pasta in this house. We don’t need pasta. It’s time to move on.
“That smells amazing,” I hear the redhead’s voice and end up dropping the glass I was holding. “Careful not to hurt yourself.”
I look at her as she rushes out of the kitchen and quickly returns with a broom and a dustpan in her hands. I remain frozen, watching her collect the shards of glass, unable to speak or even move. Fuck. As soon as she finishes gathering all the pieces, I turn away, putting some distance between us. The scent of her perfume is far too strong, and it’s bothering me. A thought surfaces, but I decide not to dwell on why she put on perfume to meet Burt.
“Mikhail, what food is this? The smell is almost making me drool, wanting to taste it.”
Just like my cock, imagining the day I’ll fuck her pussy.
“Meat sauce. Bread is the side,” I say, and she closes her eyes, inhaling the aroma near the pot. “And how was your conversation with Burt?” She looks at me, surprised. I imagine she didn’t expect me to question her.
“It was revealing, but nothing to worry about.” She doesn’t go into detail and, before I can ask anything else, she changes the subject. “What happened to our daily pasta?”
“I’m not making it anymore. I decided to innovate.”
“Oh, what a shame. I love that pasta.” She pouts, and I turn my back so she won’t see on my face how badly I want to make that damn pasta just to see her smile. Still, I shouldn’t. Enough with the pasta.
“The sauce is good too. Try some,” I encourage her, handing her a spoon.
Maya dips the spoon into the pot, scooping up some sauce. She opens her mouth and doesn’t take long to moan and close her eyes. My cock tightens in my pants, imagining other things I could do to make her moan like that. When she opens her eyes, the gleam of desire is reflected in them. I swallow hard as she takes the first step toward me. She doesn’t need to say anything—I know what she wants. And fuck, it’s the same thing I want.
As soon as she stops in front of me, I grab her hair, not letting her move any closer. I smile and stick my tongue out, licking her lips, cleaning the remnants of sauce left on them. A smile spreads across her mouth, and I know I’m lost. Because I don’t need to deny what I feel for her. I like Maya. I like her a lot. But I won’t be Sebastian. I won’t get into trouble with my brothers over a woman I can’t have.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, and it kills me not to be honest with her.
“Like what? I’m not looking at you any way,” I lie, and she lifts her nose defiantly, just like only she knows how to do.
“Hmm, right. I’m going to my room to change.” I let her go and she walks away, but before she reaches the doorway, she turns back to me, eyes wide. “Did you manage to read the note?” she asks excitedly, and I shake my head. I still haven’t managed to read that fucking note, and my brothers don’t want to help me.
“You made a mess of words. You can’t understand a damn thing in there,” I say, because I know her well enough to know she’ll grab the note and rub it in my face.
I hold back the urge to laugh as she walks away and returns a few seconds later with the pink note in her hand. Her eyes are red with irritation. She stands in front of me, pointing at the note I make no effort to look at. All I want to see is her.
Maya looks beautiful when she’s irritated.
“Look at this, the simplest thing ever,” she shouts, rolling her eyes. “Mikhail, if you read it, you’ll get a blowjob.”