CHAPTER 4: SHOPPING AND BLOODY STEAK

HAVEN'S POV

I eyed the small, black card Allessio was handing out to me. The part of me that I miss but have slowly forgotten because of everything that happened to me for the past year blinks its eyes as if it's been woken up from sleep.

Before my fingers could touch the credit card, he snatched it back, his eyes narrowing at me. "I don't like the look you have on your face. You look like a junkie being offered unlimited supplies of drugs."

My lips parted in shock but I quickly shut it close to glare at him. He still scares me, but being with him for hours is starting to transform my fear into something else. He's an infuriating person. So much so that people who work for him, like Fierro, must get paid a lot so they won't murder him in cold blood.

He's domineering and opinionated, and he seems to be the kind of person who always gets his way. In short, he's a lot like me before my life turned into shit.

Allessio tipped his head to the huge store boutique in front of us. "Go buy whatever you want, but be practical. Don't purchase the whole store. Just buy enough." He handed the card to Fierro. "Don't look at the price."

"That's hard to do." I pointed at the boutique in front of us. He brought me to a mall near Paris Le Bourget Airport, where we stopped for a five-hour layover before we headed to wherever he's planning to bring us. I don't know how but he managed to keep the boutique and the mall open even though it's past midnight. "That's an expensive store. If you want practicality, you should have brought me to Monoprix."

"Have you been here in Paris?" Fierro asked.

I shrugged. "My everyday life before consisted of just two things: thinking about what to buy next and shopping. Paris is a great place for it." I turned to Allessio before he could think of something to say. "You're probably right about me looking like a junkie. I love shopping. I love credit cards. But it's not like I'm planning to spend your money the way I spent money before."

"I just told you to buy whatever you want, didn't I? I told you to be practical because you can buy more when we land in Tuscany. I didn't say that you should look for a Parisian version of a dollar store."

"You said I look like an addict."

"You basically admitted that you're a junkie for shopping."

God, he's so annoying! "Which means you shouldn't let me shop."

"I didn't give you the credit card because that's like handing out cocaine to a recovering addict."

"But you still want me to shop to my heart's contents? That's the same thing."

"It's not. I gave the card to Fierro. That means I gave the drug to him and not you." He massaged his temple, and he said something in Italian that, of course, I didn't understand. "You need clothes. You're not here to shop for things you won't even look at twice because you have too many of them. You can't walk around with the clothes you own because, one, they are either too casual or too...much." Tumikhim siya. He's probably remembering my uniform. "Second, we threw away all your clothes."

"What?!"

He leveled me with a look. "It's not like you love those clothes. You bought them because you have no choice."

He wasn't wrong. Every designer outfit I had before was gone. It wouldn't feel right to keep them anyway. Not when a lot of people died because of my parents' negligence.

"You have a choice now, Haven."

I looked at Allessio in surprise. This is the first time that he has called me by my name.

As if exasperated, he sighed and took my hand before he pulled me inside the boutique. His touch didn't last long because he let me go the moment we were inside.

A gorgeous woman approached us and greeted us with the enthusiasm of a person who's determined to make a sale. She greeted us in French before she repeated the greeting in English. "My name is Collette, and I'll be happy to assist you. We have the best collections that just arrived today, and I'm sure you'll be able to find something you'll love."

"Get her everything she wants," Allessio grumbled.

Collette's eyes brightened like two light bulbs. "Absolutely, sir! I'll make sure your daughter has the best of everything."

I blinked while Fierro who was behind us coughed loudly. I turned to Allessio but I couldn't read anything from his face. Does he want people to believe that he's my father? I mean... that's understandable, I guess. That's an easier way to explain things.

I don't think he's old enough to be my father though. My father's in his mid-forties. Allessio's older than me, but I don't think he's that old. He's probably in his late twenties? I read somewhere before that most people in mafia are turned into made men very young so he's probably like that too.

I plastered a sweet smile on my face and squared my shoulders when I looked at the saleswoman. "My birthday is coming up, so my daddy wants to treat me a little."

Fierro coughed so hard that it sounded like he coughed out a lung. Allessio, on the other hand, is looking at me like he wants to boil me alive. What? I thought he wanted to pretend that he's my father?

I gave him a "what" expression by raising an eyebrow at him before I turned to the saleswoman again. "On commence?" I asked which meant "shall we start" when translated from French to English. I might not know a lot of French but I know enough.

Almost an hour later, I have a pile of a mix of comfortable lounge wear, sleepwear, elegant casual clothes, formal ensembles, jackets and cardigans, and a few shoes that will match them.

I didn't go gung ho. It feels uncomfortable to do so when I don't know how I will ever pay him back. Allessio already saved me, and he's taking me in when he didn't need to. That's why when Collette and I put a pile on the side that I like, I only chose three pairs out of them.

It's just been a year since I was dropped from the paradise that I was born into, but if there's one thing that I learned, it's that one luxury item could feed an average incomer for more than a month. What more to those who are earning just enough to feed themselves for a day?

I shook my thoughts away when Allessio walked towards us. He glanced at the pile of clothes before he turned to me. "Are you done?"

I nodded and pointed at the clothes Collette is already folding. "She'll bring it to the counter."

His eyebrow knitted together and he pointed at the ones on the side. "How about all these?"

"Collette and I selected the things I liked, and then I narrowed it down to what I like best."

"But you like all of them?"

I shrugged. "They're pretty."

He regarded me with a look before he called the saleswoman who immediately piped up, reminding me of an excited puppy.

Allessio gestured toward the pile of clothes and shoes. "We're taking all that."

My jaw dropped to the floor while Collette looked like she was about to cry happy tears. Seriously... this man is something.

I don't know what to make of him. He's annoying, but he could be not annoying. He's frightening, but any person who's willing to save another person from being killed is kind in my book. Unless, of course, he has an ulterior motive. But he has made it clear that he wants nothing from me.

It us what's making me feel unsettled. He wants nothing, but he's giving a lot. Even my parents have their reasons why they shower me with money. They don't want me to ask for attention like a normal child would from her parents, they don't want me to whine because they literally don't have time for me, and they want me to do whatever I want except bother them.

I don't think my mother even held me when I was an infant just because she wanted to hold me. All my life, it's always been the maids who took care of me. All the pictures I have in our home are taken during an event. Aside from that, there was nothing.

But Allessio's just giving. It's making me uneasy because I don't know what to do with it.

As if feeling my gaze, the Italian looked at me. "Daddy needs to give his baby everything after all."

I'M NOT SURE how long I've been staring at Allessio since we got back on his private jet. I know he's aware that I'm looking at him, but he's ignoring me by reading whatever is on his tablet device.

I only stopped staring at him when the male flight attendant approached us. His eyes flickered down at the new white tweed dress I'm wearing, which falls a few inches above the knees. I changed into it after I showered in the exclusive lounge that we were provided by the airport.

"Welcome back aboard, Ma'am. We've got amazing dishes ready for you. Would you like to see the menu?"

"That would be great," I said with a small smile.

He handed me the menu, and my forehead knotted a bit when I felt his hand linger on mine longer than it should, but I chucked it away as a coincidence.

I quickly read the menu, and I went for miniature canapés for my starter, fillet mignon for the main, mixed green salad for the sides, and fruit tart for the dessert. If I'm dreaming, don't wake me up. From every day instant noddles to this? Heaven.

When the flight attendant shifted his attention to Allessio, I noticed that he was staring at him in a way that brought me back to the first night I met him at the club. Why does he look murderous? Is he that hungry?

"I want the steak as well." Allessio fixed the other man a gaze that could cut through steel. "I want it to be as bloody as possible."

My face pinched in disgust while the flight attendant paled for some reason before he scurried away like a scared mouse.

"You're really going to eat a bloody steak?" I asked Allessio when he was gone.

He turned back to his tablet. "Yes."

"Ew."

He glanced up. "You asked for medium rare."

"Medium rare is pink, not bloody." I shivered when I remembered that one instance where a server gave me a rare steak by mistake. "If you're going to eat rare, why don't you just bite the cow while it's alive?"

Fierro, who's sitting not far from us, cough. I frowned at him before turning to Allessio. "You should have him check. He's coughing too much. Maybe he needs to drink medicine."

Allessio gave him a look. "Or maybe he wants new lungs."

Fierro coughed again, but I caught a grin on his lips before he raised the newspaper he's holding to hide behind it.

When Allessio's attention returned to me, he said, "After you eat, go to sleep. You need to rest."

I put an elbow on the table then I rest my face on my hand while staring at him. Sometimes his actions are in contrast to his words. His words could also be sharp, but their meanings aren't. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What?" he grumbled.

"What are you planning to do to me?"

He sighed. "This again? I'm not going to kill you, I'm not going to sell you, and I'm not going to harvest your organs."

"I know, but that doesn't answer my question."

"I told you. I don't know."

"That doesn't feel reassuring."

He massaged his temples. "I'm not going to involve you in my business if that's what you're scared of. You're already too involved. I'm not going to add another gun pointed at your head."

I crossed my eyes, biting the inside of my cheek. "I just... this doesn't feel fair to you. I'm not contributing anything to you except by adding problems that shouldn't be your problem. There must be a reason why you're helping me. I mean... you know my parents. Are you friends with them? Is it really just a coincidence that we met?"

That's what he told me when I asked. That he wasn't planning to go after me just because my parents were indebted to him. He knows I have no money to pay him and according to him, he doesn't have the habit of making the family of those who owe him pay for something that is not of their own doing. Unless, of course, they have a direct involvement.

"Like I told you, it was a coincidence that I met you. I'm not fucking friends with your parents. I might not be as trigger happy as the rest of the people in my world, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to slit their throats for pissing me off." I feel like my face lost color, and it didn't escape Allessio's notice. "But they offered another way to pay me back, and frankly, I just don't want to think about what they owe me anymore. It wasn't much because I wasn't that stupid to invest a lot to them. I was just trying them out, and I'm glad I made the right decision of not trusting them completely."

"Y-You're not going to kill them?"

"Too much headache." He crossed his arms. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Well... they're my parents. Of course I should be bothered."

"You should." He looks at me in contemplation. "Do you know what I will answer if someone asks me the same thing I asked you?"

"What?"

"An immediate yes."

I lost my voice when I realized what he meant. I suddenly felt guilty. My parents might seem like strangers to me, and I know more about their account numbers than anything about them, but they're still my parents.

"If you feel guilty, don't. You're not obligated to be loyal to your parents, nor should loving them be automatic. Your response depends on how they are to you as parents. From the looks of it, they didn't treat you that well."

"They gave me everything," I whispered.

"Money is not everything. You should know that by now, Haven."