XXI

Her expression remained the same as her eyes scanned through the answers provided by the search engine to the two alphabets her friend had typed in. Website after website after website and the same words - Dangerous, Ruthless, Inhuman - or words synonymous to them were still being continuously made use of.

She swallowed thickly the lump that had taken form in her throat as she read through the articles published on Wikipedia, but for some reason, she still doubted that the man that was currently sitting on their couch, awaiting her presence, was capable of doing any of the things the articles had stated about him.

For some reason, she didn't want to believe it yet she couldn't help but feel that she wanted to know. She had the hunch that she might regret not finding out what she could when she still had the chance to, so she exited from Wikipedia and tapped on the Images bar. She needed absolute confirmation.

She took a shaky breath as she shuddered when the countless photographs of the infamous J.K filled the brightened screen of her mobile device. It was all too real. Her lashes fluttered.

"He's a part of the Mafia?" her voice was small and hoarse - like that of someone that had just awaken from centuries of being in a coma - when she finally opened her mouth to speak.

"No. He is the Mafia," Oriana corrected.

Emerald shivered when her gaze collided with that of a certain picture. It was a portrait with only his face and broad shoulders on show. Emerald wanted to look away from the picture.

So overwhelmed by the rush of information she had to take in, she wanted nothing more than to exit from the search engine and possibly toss her phone at the wall to grab her head tightly in her palms to somehow ease the pounding headache that was starting to revolve around her head but all she could do was stare unblinkingly at the picture.

She seemed so spellbound by his gaze and that felt stupid because he wasn't even really looking at her. He wasn't even in the same room as her yet she couldn't stymie the feeling of being watched by him, of his eyes being bored into hers.

"Eme? Emerald, snap out of it!" Oriana shook her and suddenly, she was able to blink.

Immediately, she tossed her phone to the soft mattress of her bed as far away from her as possible; as far away from his cold, empty eyes and sinister smirk as possible.

She finally inhaled deeply, oblivious to the moment she had stopped breathing in the first place and at the moment, no amount of 'thank yous' could measure up to how truly grateful she was to Oriana for shaking her.

Suddenly feeling cold and exposed, she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her palms up and down her exposed skin, applying friction in attempts to warm herself up. Her skin had uncannily been covered in rows and dots of goose bumps just at the thought of his algid, piercing eyes and cold-blooded smirk.

"Mera, listen to me," Oriana began as she moved closer to her friend who was now in a daze before gently taking her cold and sweaty hands into her own while caressing them softly.

"I'm not trying to scare you. I only want you to be cognizant of his true identity. He is dangerous, Mera. He is every single thing you don't want in a person and he's every single damn thing you would find in a monster.

He kills without second thoughts or contrition. Is that who you want to be associated with?" Emerald shook her head once at Oriana's words.

Since the day she had met him, he had not been particularly nice but he hadn't been rude or unpleasant either. He wasn't much of a talker, she knew, but that was what made her seemingly comfortable around him because neither one of them needed to speak a word to break the gemütlich silence.

She had also taken note of people's reactions whenever he was near. At the restaurant the other day, she had observed the change in the behaviours of the customers and waiters and she had also perceived the grim and gloomy change in the once lively and cheery atmosphere the beanery had once held.

Strangely, she had also noticed how the male receptionist that had flirted to no end with her had avoided her like a plague when they were leaving. He hadn't even raised his hung head from the interesting view of the counter and that day, Emerald had found it rum, although she was grateful.

But now, everything was starting to make total sense. The pin-drop silence, the intense and unwavering stares, his one worded sentences, his stone cold expressions and not to mention the warning he had given her the day he came to her office. She had wandered why Claire had let him in without an appointment but now she knew that her blonde receptionist had not an ounce of power against him.

"I know you have a lot to take in, Eme, but I just want you to be careful. He's no good for you or for anyone, for that matter," Oriana concluded, giving her troubled friend's hands a squeeze to show that she was here for her.

"But. . .why were you so scared? I know you said he killed unsparingly but you're not the only one in the house, for all you know, he could've killed me as well. Besides, you kept saying he was here for you, he would kill you. Why?"

Emerald needed a distraction, she needed something to get her mind off of that scarring picture and those perturbing words she had read from the articles and heard from Ori.

"Oh. . . You know how I was the one who got information about the release of his new wine product last month?" Emerald nodded, "Well, I thought he was here because he found out that I was the one or something. I don't know, I kinda guessed that he'd prefer things to be done privately. . .but I leaked out the info and I thought that maybe he was. . ." she exhaled. ". . .here to end me?"

Clearly, she was still bothered by his presence as she unclasped her hands from Emerald's before running it through her red hair while simultaneously rubbing the other hand down her face.

"So what changed?" Emerald dared to ask.

Oriana's eyebrows perked up her forehead as she peeked at her friend through the crack of her fingers.

"Clearly, he's not here for me. If he were, I'd be lying in the pool of my own blood by now," she gulped, "Ahh, I can't believe I slammed the door in his face," she cringed as dread flitted across her countenance.

Seeing that her friend was still so affected by their unexpected visitor, she killed the thought of informing her that this same man had been lying unconscious on the very same bed they currently sat on. She didn't want her to develop a heart attack, so she remained quiet.

"Take your mind off of it, Ori. It happened as a reflex, okay? And I'm sure he understands," she whispered the last part.

"Understands?" Oriana's figure immediately straightened up as her eyes grew wide at her friend's words. She wasn't full on yelling the words into her friend's ears only because their subject of discussion was right below them.

"Did you not pay attention to all I've been saying since? Even if you weren't paying attention, did you not read the articles on the websites? Emerald, this man isn't someone who thinks twice before ending a life. Understanding. . ." she air quoted. ". . .is not a word in his dictionary."

Emerald was shocked when Oriana called her name in full, she had only done that once since they had met and that was the day they had introduced themselves to each other. She had tested out Emerald's name on her tongue before resorting to giving her nicknames. The names, 'Eme' and 'Mera' had since then, been born.

"Listen to me, Mera," she grasped onto Emerald's hands again, making both their clammy palms collide. "This is no joke at all. If I currently am still alive, speaking with you, that means he isn't here for me. And if he isn't here for me, then that could only mean one thing. You're the one he's here for.

I don't know what he's up to, neither do I know why he's here nor do I know how far you both have gone since you met. But, there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of and that's the fact that he's no good for you.

I can't make your decisions for you. I could only show my concern for you as your friend. You don't expect me to see a bottomless pit in the path on which you're treading and not warn you, do you? I really care about you, Mera. You're more than just my best friend, you're an older sister to me and I can't possibly watch you fall to your death.

Jordan Kale spells danger, ineludible peril. I could only implore you to stay away from him. Please. . ."

▬▬▬▬▬

Emerald could undoubtedly vividly remember Oriana's words of advice. She could irrefragably remember the emotions that had played out in her friend's eyes as she said those words to her less than an hour ago.

Yet, what her friend had advised her to do was the exact opposite of what the man before her was telling her to do or maybe she didn't hear him well, so she asked,

"I apologise. I think I spaced out while you responded. Please, can you repeat what you said?" she wanted to be certain she wasn't hallucinating.

She began packing up the clinical equipment she had made use of to put them back into the first aid box when he responded.

"I said I wanted to live here," he reiterated. Jordan wasn't one to repeat himself. If you didn't hear him speak the first time, his gun or dagger would be the one repeating his words. But today, for her, he would.

"Why?" her grip tightened around the tweezers she had used to carefully pull out the tiny shards of glass that had embedded themselves into his knuckles. "Aren't millionaires supposed to have something as fundamental as a house?"

She moved to rise to her feet when cold fingers wrapped around her warm wrist. In surprise, she turned her head to meet the eyes of their owner but he was looking down at her hands.

Firmly yet gently, he pried the metallic instrument out of her delicate hands before lifting her palm to his lips.

"I have to sterilise those. . ." her resistance died as quickly as her voice had disappeared in her throat when warm air from his mouth collided with her palm which had turned red from gripping the tweezers so harshly.

Inhaling sharply, she tried to close her palm on reflex but Jordan was quick to use his unbandaged hand to hold hers open.

As he continued to blow warm air while soothing her cotton-soft palm, he could feel her slowly relax against his touch as her breaths came out shallowly.

Emerald couldn't help but ease into his touch. His cold hands were so soothing around her warm ones that she couldn't help but relish the contrasting yet fitting temperature they emanated around her skin.

She looked at him. Really looked at the man seated before her. He was looking so peaceful as he delicately fondled her hand. She watched as a tendril of his raven black hair fell forward onto his forehead and she felt the irrepressible itch to take it away. To take away every thing that brought him discomfort.

Was this the same man Oriana had warned her about? Was this the same man the countless tabloids and articles that she had read had described as Dangerous, Ruthless or Inhuman? Was this man who was presently treating her like an egg, the same one who was tagged as being cold-blooded?

Countless of those questions flooded her head as she continued to stare at him. She couldn't bring herself to believe it. She didn't want to see him the way they did. Even if he really was all those things they claimed, there had to be a logical reason behind it.

She for one, was one to believe that there was a reason behind every action exhibited by living beings. Be it a natural or killer instinct, a programmed reflex or a scarry effect of an unforgettable past. What she didn't know was which one fuelled his own actions.

Moreover, if there wasn't a past to be set free from, why would Carol introduce her brother to her in hopes of getting him to open up. She could only guess from treating Carol that his case was also a past that had left behind scars that couldn't be erased.

She didn't know what it was but somehow, she felt like she could understand his pain. She herself, had been there before. She herself, was still healing, yet she felt the unsubdued urge to help him.

She wanted to know the secrets he held within, the past he had had to suffer through, the demons he had had to overcome and the scars his dreadful past had left behind. She wanted to know him. But, there were a myriad of walls between them.

Seemingly going deeper and drowning in the sea of the stinging curiosity to uncover the every secret of the tagged 'dangerous' man perched up on the stool before her, Oriana's words of warning suddenly rang in her ears like a persistent tocsin. She jerked to reality.

Jordan - noticing that the woman whose warm and dainty hands he held had not uttered a single word since - looked up from her palm, which was starting to return to its formerly pale colour to find her eyes glazed over as she appeared to be deep in thought.

She was looking straight at him yet she wasn't seeing him. He studied her. He observed how she seemed to be biting her inner cheeks, her mouth moving in odd directions. His eyes glimmered with amusement yet if one could patiently watch him closely, they would notice the swirling convolutions of adoration in his Nutella eyes.

Oddly, he wanted time to freeze for a moment or an hour or maybe forever. He didn't want this moment to pass. He admitted that he loved the feel of her tepid, cloud-soft hands against his cold and callous ones. Undeniably, he conceded that somehow, someway, their hands fit perfectly in each other's embrace. But a man could only wish; for all good things, alas, must come to an end.

He watched her jolt back to life before snatching her hand out of his hold as though she had been scathed. For reasons unknown to him, it bothered him more than it really should when she stood up and took a few steps away from him as though he were a monster.

Emerald watched as his eyes became hard as his once soft expression vanished into oblivion. He was beginning to look like what those articles had described him to be. Unconsciously, she took another step back, piquing him even more.

"I am a billionaire," he clarified.

"Exactly the more reason you should have thousands of luxurious houses awaiting your presence," she retorted, facing the sink to finally sterilise the tweezers.

For some reason, she was sure he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She shook her head, labeling herself as being psychotic for thinking that after all of Oriana's warnings.

"But I don't want luxurious houses. I want you- I mean I want to stay here," Jordan cleared his throat but kept his face hard in attempts to reduce the awkwardness his slip up had caused in the room.

'Why did I say that?' he wondered.

Emerald gulped. She noticed his blunder but knew better than to dwell on it. "Why here? It's nothing fancy, palatial or richly appealing," she sighed frustratedly as she returned the first aid box to its rightful place.

"The more reason for its suitability," his words were only confusing her further.

"What? How so?" her confusion and frustration were evident by the creases on her forehead.

"Remember when I was shot?" he stood up and walked gently towards her figure which was leaning against the cupboards.

"Of course, I do. That was yesterday. It was terrifying," she whispered the last sentence. "Speaking of which, how is your arm?" she snuck a look at his injured arm, whose bandage peeked from underneath the short sleeved cotton shirt he donned.

A smile threatened to break out on his face at her words. She was concerned. "It's good," he gave a curt nod, his amble towards her torturously slow.

"Concerning the shooting, I have a hunch that the culprits aren't done with me yet," he lied. The Timos weren't going to be any more trouble.

Emerald's eyes widened at his words and she had almost blurted out the words, "why not report to the police?" when she remembered that he wasn't just any man.

"If I move to another one of my countless mansions like you suggested, that would be a predictable move and it would most certainly cause my death."

He was now standing before her, as close as he could be, yet still not close enough. They could now inhale each other's alluring scents. Balsamic fragrance mixed with the sinfully tempting hints of vanilla, cinnamon and cedarwood wafted softly from their respective sources, filling the kitchen atmosphere.

Their redolence could have never smelled better.

▬▬▬▬▬

"If you check the upper drawer in the closet, you'll see some clean blankets in there," Emerald pointed out as they were now standing in one of the spare rooms they had. Logan had occupied one which left them with two more empty rooms.

"Hmm. . .thank you," Jordan mumbled as he looked around the dark yet clean room - an evidence that it was also included as a part of their sanitation rituals.

Emerald nodded and proceeded to leave the room before stopping abruptly with her hand on the door knob. She inhaled deeply before voicing the thought that had been biting at the back of her mind.

"Are we safe?"

"Hmm. . .what's that?" he turned around to face her tensed back.

"My friends and I, I mean."

"Yeah, of course. Why'd you ask?" he had his suspicions but he wanted unmitigated confirmation.

"Well, your uhm. . . profession? It is only appropriate for me to be sure of our safety, don't you think?" her grip tightened around the knob as her voice grew shaky. She didn't know if she had struck a nerve by asking.

Jordan was peeved, yes but not because she had asked that question. Sooner or later, he knew she would discover who he really was, but what aggravated him was the slight fear that laced her words. Now that she knew who he really was, was she scared of him?

That thought didn't sit well with him, for some reason. He didn't want her to be scared of him like the others.

"I guess you finally found out."

"Were you hoping I wouldn't?" her back was still to him, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was nothing to tell, was there? You are nothing to me, so I see no reason telling you who I was when I knew not who you were?" his words were blunt but he didn't want to care.

Emerald swallowed through the lump that pushed its way up her throat as she closed her eyes. She didn't think his words would hurt as much as they currently did because he had spoken nothing short of the truth. Their relationship had been nothing but professional and she had been the one to keep that notion registered between them both. So, why did it hurt so?

"I guess I must have looked like a fool who didn't know the almighty J.K." she proceeded to turn the knob when his words stopped her.

"No, you didn't. Actually, you really intrigued me," in surprise, she finally spun around to look at him. His eyes were glued to the floor as he appeared to be reliving a memory. "It was refreshing to see someone who wouldn't cower in fear at the sight of me. It was peeving at first but then, it made me. . ." he stopped, making Emerald want to yell out the words, 'made you what?!'

"But now, it seems you're just like them," he looked up at her, his glacial exterior taking control once more.

"Just like them?"

"Scared. Weak. Breakable," with each word, he took a step closer to her till they stood face to chest. "Just like everyone else."

His words annoyed her. The man before her had no idea what she had been through. He had no idea what she had had to suffer through, yet he was so quick in judging her. She clenched her fists.

With the blazing flames of anger evident in the depths of her green orbs, she looked up into his eyes.

"Don't be so quick to judge people, Mr. Kale. I think you really need to dwell more on the quote, 'Do not judge a book by its cover.' Even if I may appear small compared to you, I won't sit still and act as a bucket for your insulting spits."

She spun on her heels and twisted the knob before speaking again.

"Regardless of who you are or what social status you may hold in the society, as long as you're under my roof, you will abide by my rules. If you're unfit to do so, then be my guest and leave.

Have a good night, Mr. Kale," she slammed the door behind her.

With her parting words still lingering in the cool night air entangling itself around the curtains, Jordan stood frozen with his mouth agape. She had stunned him into silence.