Chapter 27

"Chaos and Cookies"

Valeria's POV

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Two weeks.

That's how long it had been since Ren left for Russia. Not that I was counting. Because I wasn't. At all.

Okay, maybe a little.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling through my phone with zero interest in whatever nonsense Raymond had texted me that morning. He could wait. For once, I was indulging in a rare moment of normalcy—or as close to normal as life got in Ren's penthouse.

And then, like clockwork, the front door opened, and Dante's obnoxiously cheerful voice rang out.

"Shorty! I'm here!"

I groaned loudly. "For the last time, I'm not short. You're just freakishly tall!"

Dante sauntered into the kitchen, looking every bit the chaotic teddy bear he was. His hair was a mess, his grin was smug, and his presence was as loud as ever. He reached over and ruffled my hair like I was some kid at a family reunion.

"Aw, come on, Shorty. Don't be mad. You're, like, fun-sized. It's adorable."

I swatted his hand away, glaring up at him. "Call me Shorty one more time, and I'll show you just how unadorable I can be."

"Oh no," he said, feigning fear. "Whatever will I do against the terrifying wrath of the Fun-Sized Fury?"

"Dante," I warned, grabbing a wooden spoon off the counter and pointing it at him. "Don't test me."

He grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Truce. But only because I need your help."

"With what?" I asked suspiciously, lowering the spoon.

"Setting me up with Lily," he said, his grin turning sheepish.

I blinked, momentarily stunned. "Wait. You? The human golden retriever? You need my help to get a date?"

"She's different, okay?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, she's sweet, and kind, and... and she makes those little heart-shaped cookies, and—stop laughing!"

I was laughing. Hard. Like, leaning against the counter for support because Dante Moretti, the literal definition of confidence, was reduced to a stuttering mess over Lily.

"I'm sorry," I said between laughs. "It's just—you're so whipped!"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, his cheeks turning pink. "Just help me, alright? I can't mess this up."

"Alright, alright," I said, waving him off. "Here's the plan: you're taking her out this Friday. I'll text her and make sure she's free. And you're gonna show up looking like a gentleman, not the walking disaster you are right now."

"Deal," he said, his grin returning. "Thanks, Shorty. You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, trying to hide my own grin. "Now, let's make cookies before I regret this."

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The plan to bake cookies quickly spiraled into chaos.

"Dante, I said one cup of flour, not five!"

"Details, details," he said, dumping an ungodly amount of flour into the bowl.

"Are you trying to kill us?"

"Relax, Shorty. It's called 'culinary creativity.'"

"It's called a disaster waiting to happen."

The kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour was everywhere—on the counter, the floor, and somehow in Dante's hair. I had cookie dough on my shirt, and the smoke alarm had gone off twice.

And yet, I couldn't stop laughing.

"Okay, okay," I said, holding up a hand. "Let's at least try to follow the recipe."

"Fine," he said, grabbing the sugar. "But only because I trust your genius."

"Damn right, you do," I said, snatching the sugar from him before he could dump half the bag into the bowl.

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By the time we managed to get the cookies in the oven, we were both a mess. Dante had a streak of chocolate on his cheek, and I was pretty sure I had flour in my hair. But it was fun. Too much fun.

"You know," Dante said, leaning against the counter, "you're not so bad, Shorty."

I rolled my eyes. "And you're not as annoying as I thought. Sometimes."

"Aw, look at us bonding," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Ren's gonna be so proud."

"Speaking of Ren," I said, narrowing my eyes, "when's he coming back?"

"Soon," Dante said with a knowing grin. "Missing him, are we?"

"No," I said quickly. Too quickly.

"Sure, sure," he teased, ruffling my hair again.

Before I could retaliate, the front door opened, and a familiar voice called out.

"I'm back!"

Ren.

He walked into the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks as he took in the scene.

"What... happened here?" he asked, his eyes darting between the flour-covered counter, the bowl of half-melted chocolate, and the two of us looking like we'd been through a baking apocalypse.

"Cookie war," Dante said casually.

"I see," Ren said, his gaze settling on me.

My breath hitched under his scrutiny, and for a moment, the chaos of the kitchen faded into the background. He looked tired but happy, his eyes warm as they locked onto mine.

"You've been busy," he said, his voice low and teasing.

"Someone had to keep Dante entertained," I said, crossing my arms. "He's like a toddler with too much sugar."

"Hey!" Dante protested.

Ren chuckled, stepping closer. "I missed you."

His words were simple but heavy, and they hit me like a punch to the chest.

"I—"

"Alright, lovebirds," Dante interrupted, clapping his hands. "I'm gonna head out. Got a date to plan, thanks to Shorty here."

He gave me a wink before disappearing, leaving Ren and me alone in the flour-covered kitchen.

Ren stepped closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"You've got flour in your hair," he said softly.

"You've got a lot of nerve," I shot back, my voice quieter than I intended.

He smiled, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us.

"Come on," he said, taking my hand. "Let's clean up."

And just like that, the chaos melted away, replaced by something softer, something warmer.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

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˗ˏˋ Author's note ˎˊ˗

Heyy (✿◡‿◡)

Aww they are so cute!!!!

Please Vote and comment to make another insignificant human happy (^◕.◕^)

Question of chapter:

What is your ideal first date?

Mine would be a picnic where we can talk and eat. Nice and simple. 

Believe in yourself <3

Byeeee

Izel

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