Chapter 12

Yvonne withdrew her hand from the table, her expression guarded. "What?"

Javier leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I mean, something good must have happened, and you are refusing to share."

Yvonne sighed, a subtle smile playing on her lips.

"Well, I have already told you the reason for these feasts, and it is up to you to believe me."

He used the knife to cut the chicken and took a piece with it on his fork. 

"Open your mouth."

Yvonne leaned forward and opened her mouth slightly. In that unexpected moment, as Yvonne opened her mouth to savor the offered bite of chicken, he stood, fork in hand, their eyes locked, and he pressed his lips softly against hers.

Initially taken aback, she soon found herself kissing him back.

As he pulled away, he put the piece of chicken in her mouth. "How does it taste?"

"It tastes...sweet," she replied, her fingers lightly touching her lips.

"I meant the food," he chuckled.

"Oh!" she said, removing her hand from her lips. "The food tastes good since I am the one who cooked it."

Yvonne lowered her head; a veil of confusion and curiosity was seen on her face. What is she doing? Why had he chosen this moment to kiss her unexpectedly? 

As she continued to eat with him, her thoughts swirled like the aroma of the food. Why not just ask him about her sister, considering there is nothing to talk about? The idea floated in her mind like a fleeting breeze, prompting her to break the silence.

"I realized I never asked you this," She paused briefly before continuing. "Did you and my sister date, or are you guys only friends?"

She instinctively brought her hand to the edge of her shorts, fingers gripping it almost defensively.

"We dated for two years, and before she died, she was very worried about you," he revealed. "She said, 'If I die, how will Vivi take care of herself?'" His gaze showed a depth of sincerity as he continued. "To be fair, I never knew who she was talking about. But then she said that was your nickname your mother gave you, and to not remember you about what happened to your mother, your grandfather and Faith stopped calling you by your nickname and started calling you by your name."

Yvonne nodded in understanding, a mix of emotions swirling within her. "Yeah, the nickname was given by my mother when I was 6 years old, four years after she died."

"Did you hate her for making you go through that?" he asked, his tone gentle.

"At first, I hated her very much," Yvonne admitted. Her eyes reflected the pain of the past. "If she was going to commit suicide, why did she send me to get the sniper?"

[Flashback]

When young Yvonne entered her mom's dimly lit room, it was dark. Turning on the light, she saw her mother huddled in a corner, her body filled with painful bruises as always. 

"Mom, are you okay?" young Yvonne voice said with concern.

Her mother managed a weary smile, gesturing for Yvonne to come and sit beside her. 

"Vivi, if you are going to get married in the future, marry a man who is understanding, caring, and loves you," her mom whispered. Don't look at who is handsome; if they are ugly and treat you well, marry him. The more handsome a guy is, the more women will rush to take him away from you."

Confused, Yvonne said, "Why are you talking about marriage? I only want to be with you."

Her mother embraced her.

"Go and buy me a sniper. There are many insecticides in here that need to be killed."

"Really?"

"Get me one." She took money from her pulse and handed it to her. "Don't tell anyone," her mother insisted.

Young Yvonne nodded.

Twenty minutes later, young Yvonne returned with the requested sniper and handed it over to her.

"Thank you," her mother said. "Have you done your assignment?" her mother inquired.

"Oh, no. I forget."

"Go and get it done."

Young Yvonne nodded obediently and turned to leave, but before she could, her mother called her back.

"Vivi," her mother's voice softened,

Young Yvonne turned around with a smile on her face.

"I love you and your sister,"

"I know that."

"Lock the door on your way out."

"Okay."

A few minutes later, she returned to the room and found her mother with her eyes closed.

"Mom, are you sleeping? I have a question about my assignment."

She tapped her mother, but there was no response. She pinches her mother a little, as she always does, but there is no answer. 

[Flashback ends]

Javier snapped of the fingers jolted Yvonne back to the present. 

"So, what about now?" he inquired.

"I still hate her, but not as much," she confessed. "I think those who commit suicide are selfish; they do not care about the people that love them. If my mom had cared about me and my sister just a little bit, she wouldn't have taken that drastic decision."

Javier observed the shift in her expression and decided to steer the conversation away from the sad topic. 

"Today is a happy day, so let's be happy and not think about sad things."

"Okay." Yvonne agreed.

Javier glanced at her and wondered if he should ask her. Eventually, he chose to ask her directly.

"Should I sleep in your bed today?"

A sly smile played on Yvonne's lips. As expected, he was a man, and she could use this situation to her advantage. 

"Okay," she responded teasingly.

Putting his spoon down, he stood up and swiftly swept her off her feet. They went to the bedroom.

He put her on the bed and placed his lips gently on hers. She pushed him down and stayed on top of him. 

She unbuttons his shirt,and he removes her shirt. She kissed him on the neck.

"Tomorrow, I want to go out," she said, in between the kisses.

She unbuckled his belt and removed his pants and underwear. 

"I don't want those bodyguards to follow me," she said before she put her mouth on his dick. 

"They...ahhh, Yvonne," he moaned. "here...to...protect you."

"I don't need protection." Her voice was muffed. 

She removed her mouth before continuing, "I am going with a friend."

He pushed her down and was on top of her. 

"Who?" he said as he removed her shorts and underwear.

"Helen," she said as she wrapped her arm around him.

"Fine."

He put his dick on her. 

"Ahhh..." she moaned. 

The next morning, as Javier prepared to leave for work, Yvonne woke up from her sleep and caught a glimpse of him.

"Don't forget what you said last night. I hope you won't go back on your word," she reminded him.

Javier turned around with a reassuring smile. "I won't forget it." Leaning down, he kissed her on the forehead. "I'll come late today."

"Okay," Yvonne replied, concealing the relief that crept into her expression. The later he comes home, the better.

As Javier left the house, he took the bodyguards with him. 

Later that night, Yvonne carefully selected a few essential items, not wanting to burden herself with unnecessary baggage. Uncertain about what lay ahead, she recognized the need to travel light. 

At 8 p.m., she entered a taxi to get to the place. By 9:30 p.m., she arrived, meeting Helen, who stood patiently waiting. 

"Did anyone follow you?" Helen inquired cautiously.

"I don't think so." Yvonne replied as she looked back.

Thirty minutes later, the boat was here.

"The boat driver will take you to my maternal house. Stay there until you get yourself, even though it might not be fancy than your other houses."

"Okay. Thank you so much," Yvonne expressed her gratitude, embracing Helen tightly. "I will never forget it."

As she was going to enter the boat, she heard a voice, "Where do you think you are going?"