Chapter 4 Dinner in the Dark

CHAPTER FOUR

The storm rolled in hard.

By late evening, wind howled through the Bellmore Estate like a living thing. Trees creaked, rain battered the windows, and thunder cracked so violently that even Elias looked up from his work.

"I'd say this place is charming in bad weather," Anika muttered as she kicked off her heels, "but I'd be lying."

She was barefoot, hair tied up in a messy knot, wrapped in a cardigan that wasn't nearly warm enough. She had intended to finish sketching her concept for the upstairs study and leave by six. But nature had other plans. Roads were flooded, her car battery had died, and the power flickered back off minutes after it came on.

Elias appeared from the shadows of the hallway holding two lanterns.

"No signal?" he asked.

She shook her phone. "Dead. No service, no car, no power. I'm officially trapped in a horror movie."

"You'll survive."

She shot him a look. "Comforting."

He handed her one of the lanterns, fingers brushing hers again-warm, solid, and annoyingly steady.

"Dining room's warmer," he said. "Stone insulation helps. I started a fire."

"A man who can fix generators and build fires. Color me impressed."

He didn't respond, but his lips twitched again, like he was always fighting the urge to smile. Or maybe just unsure how.

The dining room was a contrast to the rest of the estate. A fireplace blazed at the end, throwing golden light across long-forgotten portraits and a massive oak table that hadn't seen guests in years. Two mismatched chairs sat in front of the fire, and on the table... food?

Her eyes widened. "You cooked?"

He pulled out a chair for her, casual. "I reheated. There's a difference."

Still, a warm plate of pasta with grilled vegetables and a bottle of red wine sat between them. Real wine glasses too.

She sat, hesitant. "You don't talk much. But you do surprise."

He poured the wine with practiced ease, then handed her a glass. "Talking's easy. Listening is harder."

"That supposed to be deep?"

He glanced at her. "No. Just true."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. Anika studied him through the soft glow-his sleeves rolled up again, collar loose, eyes lowered. Not closed off exactly. Just always on guard.

"You live here completely alone?" she asked finally.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He set his fork down, slow. "People talk too much. Expect too much."

She tilted her head. "So, you run from expectations?"

"No. I run from patterns."

That threw her. "What does that mean?"

Elias leaned back in his chair, gaze locked on hers. "Patterns repeat. People see you once, they want to see you again. They want you to stay. To explain. To belong. That leads to attachment. And attachment leads to pain."

She blinked. "That's a dark view of humanity."

"It's realistic."

She took a slow sip of wine, watching him. "Or maybe it's just lonely."

He looked into the fire, jaw tight.

"I don't mind being alone," he said.

"But you mind being seen."

That got his attention.

Their eyes met again-sharper this time. No flirting. No pretense. Just two people staring at each other, stripped of noise and distractions.

"You're not easy to read," she said softly.

"I'm not meant to be."

"But you're trying," she added. "With me."

He exhaled once through his nose. "You don't scare easy. Most people would've run the first time they saw me."

"I considered it," she said honestly. "But then you said something."

He raised a brow.

"You said, 'I didn't think I was staying long enough for it to matter.' That's not something a dangerous man says. That's something a hurt man says."

A flicker of something passed over his face. Regret? Pain? She couldn't name it. But it was real.

And then he stood.

"You should sleep in the east room. Second floor, end of the hall. I'll keep the fire going until the generator resets."

She rose too, slower. "Are you always this good at avoiding emotions?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he walked over to the hearth, adjusted the wood, and said without turning, "There's a lock on the door. If it makes you feel safer."

Anika stepped closer, stopping just behind him. "Do I need to be safe from you?"

His voice was almost a whisper.

"That depends on whether you want honesty or comfort."

A shiver ran down her spine.

She wasn't sure which answer she wanted.

But as she walked slowly up the grand staircase, lantern in hand, she knew one thing for certain.

This wasn't just a job anymore.

Elias Black had just started peeling back her walls.

And if she wasn't careful, she might let him.