Chapter 141: You Are Efficient and Reliable
"No, it’s not. Rather, it’s about what comes after next week," April spoke up, her voice calm. "I want to host a massive cooking competition the week after we’re done with the black market. I want to use the Greels and Reed’s influence to front it."
She explained the rough outline of the idea, her words concise and clear. As she spoke, she found herself suddenly questioning why she was even telling him this.
Usually, she kept her ideas close to her chest until the last possible second and she mostly only told those involved. And in this case it was Greels and Reed. But for some reason, sitting here in this empty, locked-down space, the words came naturally. She didn’t think too much of it at the time, brushing the brief hesitation aside.
"If you’d let me, I’d like to use your influence too, if it doesn’t scare off the cooks," April added, looking directly into his wild eyes. "This competition must invite the top culinary masters from across the globe and nothing less."
Nat stared at her for a second, the piece of wagyu beef he had just picked up floating halfway to his mouth. He blinked, and then a wide, unhinged grin slowly split his face. He leaned entirely across the table, his eyes dancing with a manic, dangerous amusement.
"A global cooking tournament right after a multi-billion-dollar underground trade?" Nat chucked, a rich, raspy sound that vibrated across the crystal glasses. "Sweetheart... that is beautifully psychotic. What’s the play? You trying to steal the world’s finest secret recipes before the grid goes dark?"
"I need the food," April said flatly, her expression completely deadpan and serious. "Thousands of master-tier, cooked meals. If the top chefs are competing, they will prepare hundreds of gourmet dishes every single day. I want those meals properly packaged and handed over to me under the guise of competition rules."
Nat let out a loud, boisterous bark of a laugh, slamming his hand lightly on the table, making the silver utensils rattle. He didn’t know how she planned to keep all those cooked meals, but she indeed had a plan and he liked it.
"Interesting. You’re using a worldwide corporate event just to hoard premium catering for the end of the world. Done. Consider it handled, sweetheart. I’ll have my front companies draft the logistics and coordinates with Reed’s legal teams by tomorrow morning. We’ll make it so massive the news stations won’t talk about anything else."
Hearing his response, April felt a sense of satisfaction and without realizing it, a smile broke through her lips.
"You may be crazy," she mumbled, "but you are very efficient, and reliable."
For a moment, Nat froze. Seeing that rare and genuine smile break across her lips definitely caught him off guard. The wild, predatory spark that usually occupied his gaze slowed to a dead stop, his fork hovering millimeters above his ceramic plate as he simply stared at her.
He was a man who ruled by fear, who grew up surrounded by fake sycophants and blood-soaked transactions, yet the simple, clinical praise from her lips felt louder than the concussive blasts at the shooting range.
A slow, uncharacteristically soft expression tugged at the corner of his mouth before his usual manic energy rushed right back into his veins. He lowered his fork, leaning back into his chair with a low, raspy chuckle that sounded a bit more breathless than usual.
"Efficient and reliable, huh?" he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers with a fierce, burning intensity. "Careful, sweetheart. You keep talking to me like that, and I might just decide to annex that mountain fortress of yours and move in early. Reed can have the basement."
"My residence is strictly single-occupancy," April replied instantly, her small smile vanishing as she smoothly returned to her clinical demeanor, cutting into her food. "And Mr. Reed’s financial contributions currently out-log yours. If I were to start giving spaces, I’d say he commands the master wing."
"For now," Nat grinned, his white teeth flashing in the dimmed light. "But the week after next, when my front companies bring in the world’s best catering squads on my dollar? We’ll see who holds the premium title."
The rest of the dinner passed in a strange, wholesome sort of harmony. Nat pestered her with ridiculous questions about what kind of building blocks she was crafting on her phone, and April actually humored him, explaining the basic resource loops of Winecraft while the mafia lord listened as if it were the most intricate heist strategy on earth.
He even reached across the table to slide a heavy chocolate dessert toward her, his rough fingers completely contrasting the delicate silver spoon he pushed into her hand.
By the time they finally stood up to leave, the moon was high in the sky, reflecting sharply off the glass walls.
Just where did the time go?
They walked down to the private, desolate rear garage, the cool night air blowing past the heavy concrete pillars.
Nat unlocked the G-Wagon, turning around to look down at her. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, that familiar, arrogant smirk returning to his face.
"See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, sweetheart? No games, no wild animals screaming at each other. Just a nice, peaceful dinner."
April stood perfectly still before him on the smooth concrete floor. She looked up at his tall frame, her eyes entirely steady, completely devoid of the casual amusement they had shared over dessert.
The reality of the system’s crimson warning from that morning flashed vividly across her mind—the image of him stepping out of his bathroom, completely unbraced, bleeding out alone on the tiles because of a shadow he hadn’t seen coming.
She felt it was time to tell him.
"Nat," April said softly, her voice carrying a sudden, chilling gravity that made his smirk slowly falter. "You almost died today."
For a moment, Nat said nothing. The silence in the desolate concrete garage stretched, heavy and profound, broken only by the distant, muted hum of the city outside. Then, his eyes gleamed like the absolute madman he was.
"I knew there was something fishy," he said, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling register.
April’s eyes widened slightly. She took a step closer, her gaze tracking the sharp lines of his face.
"Wait. You knew there were going to be attackers? You knew about the ambush?" Her heart gave a sudden skip, a beat too frantic for her usual unbothered rhythm. Had he calculated the threat on his own?
"What? No, not that," Nat chuckled, the sound deep and completely unbothered by the concept of his own mortality.
He leaned his face forward, tilting his head down so his wild eyes were locked directly onto hers. "Im talking about you."
"What?"
"I just knew there was something off about how you suddenly called me and wanted to see me. It was totally out of the blue, and highly suspicious... but I couldn’t resist."