Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss

Chapter Twenty- Seven

"He's kidnapping me," she accused. "Call the police."

The waitress' eyes darted between them, but instead of alarm, a hint of amusement danced on her face. "I'll bring another plate, sir."

He nodded and she disappeared.

She seethed, "You're insane."

Suddenly, he chuckled, the deep sound transforming his features.

The waitress returned with a new plate, setting it before her. "Compliments of the house, sir."

As he poured her wine, Ahmet's gaze met hers. "Eat."

She glared, but he saw a flicker of uncertainty.

The waitress smiled knowingly. "Enjoy your meal."

His eyes locked onto hers. "Eat."

This time, his tone held a hint of warmth.

Her eyes narrowed. "Did you poison the food?"

He chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "No need for poison when I have more… efficient methods."

His gaze drifted to his gun, holstered beneath his jacket, then to his knife, hidden in his boot.

"A bullet or blade would be far more effective… you know that too," he said, his tone conversational.

Her face paled, but she refused to back down. "Why force me to eat, then?" It wasn't as if they were best of friends.

He leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "You need sustenance. You fainted earlier. I won't have you fainting on me again."

"Why care?" she spat. Did he think she was weak?

His expression turned enigmatic. "I don't. Let's just say your… cooperation is important to me."

Her eyes flashed with suspicion. "What do you want from me?" Seriously, what did he want with her?

He smiled, a cold, calculated curve of his lips. "Eat." He wasn't giving her the answer she wanted and it only irked her the more.

She glanced around the table, her eyes settling on the empty space in front of him. "Where's your plate?"

His gaze never left hers. "I'm not hungry."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yet you're forcing me to eat."

A hint of amusement danced on his lips. "Priorities."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's your priority? Me eating, or something else entirely?"

He leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Let's focus on your meal."

The evasive response sparked frustration.

She pushed her plate away. "I've had enough." She hadn't even taken a bite yet.

His eyes flashed, warning. "Finish. Your. Meal."

He watched her, intrigued by the spark in her eyes. Defiance he'd expected, but this… this was something more.

He wondered. She had no friends and was all to herself. Though Mafias are identified in families, she seemed to be alone.

Her refusal to yield, even when cornered, was admirable. A quality he'd exploited in others, but never encountered in one so...

Fragile.

No, not fragile. Far from being that. Resilient.

He recalculated his words. This wouldn't be a simple game of cat and mouse. She would push boundaries, and test his limits.

A thrill coursed through him, mixed with irritation. He hadn't anticipated this level of resistance and he wasn't regretting it. He always loved a challenge and she was the perfect match for him. He mused.

The realization brought a wry smile. He would adjust his strategy, and adapt to her rhythm.

But for now...

"Eat," he repeated, his voice firm.

She passed him one last look, a glint of submission in her eyes, before settling her gaze on the food. The candlelight danced across her face, highlighting the tension in her jaw.

She picked up her fork, the metal clinking against the plate.

She placed a small piece of meat in her mouth and chewed slowly. He watched, unsatisfied.

"More," he said, his voice low.

Her eyes flashed, but she took another bite. Small, deliberate.

The waitress refilled their wine glasses, her gaze flicking between them.

"Sir, would you like—"

"No," she cut in, pushing her chair back. "We're leaving."

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers. "We're not."

The waitress knew him. She knew he could burn the whole place down if they allowed her to leave without his permission.

Asli's eyes moved to the plate. "I've had enough."

"Finish it," he said, his voice sounding firm.

Her jaw clenched, but she pushed her chair forward again and picked up her fork again.

Her eyes never left the plate, but he sensed her awareness of him, of his every breath and gaze.

He leaned back, his eyes still never leaving her… watching her every move. Her expression never changed and so he couldn't tell if she was enjoying the food or not but he only hoped she was.

His eyes remained fixed on her. He lifted his wine glass, the crystal sparkling in the candlelight.

As he sipped his wine, his eyes continued to bore into hers, scrutinizing every twitch, every movement she made. The glass touched his lips, paused, and then retreated, leaving a subtle imprint of his mouth.

Still, his eyes held her captive, piercing through her defenses.

"All done," she announced, her voice surprisingly calm.

"I can see that," he replied, his tone low and smooth, his eyes roving over her face.

Their gazes locked, and the air was filled with tension. The candlelight created a golden shine on her skin, highlighting the features of her face.