Chapter 58 – Unexpected

Margot’s POV

The taste hit my tongue harder than it should have. Warm, peppery chicken, slightly overcooked rice, and something that resembled curry sauce but wasn’t quite there—it was basic, bland, probably bulk-made by the ton. And yet, as I sat across from Coban at a steel table in the echoing cafeteria, my tray trembling slightly in my grasp, it might as well have been the best meal I’d ever eaten. They were right when they said anything would taste great when you’re hungry!

The adrenaline still buzzed faintly in my system, my pulse a soft hammer in my ears. I felt it in my cheek too—throbbing steadily where the girl’s knuckles had met bruised bone. It stung, and every few bites made my jaw twinge, but I couldn’t stop. My stomach overruled the pain right now.

Coban ate like a machine, fork scraping aggressively against the tray, each bite a little more forceful than the last. His gaze, however, stayed fixed on me. Not soft. Not gentle. But fiercely observant.

The silence between us was suffocating until he broke it.

“I’ll fucking kill him later,” he muttered lowly, his voice as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. His fork pointed briefly across the cafeteria before returning to his tray. “That slut too. Think she can lay her hands on you like that? Not when you’re here with me!”

I froze mid-bite.

I didn’t dare look in the direction he had gestured to. I didn’t need to. I could still hear the girl’s muffled sobs in the back of my mind. The sickening crack of Coban’s palm across her cheek haunted the edge of my hearing.

“Please don’t,” I whispered, trying to sound calm, but my voice betrayed me with a faint tremble. I set my fork down gently. “You don’t have to… it’s done now.”

He scoffed under his breath like I’d said something foolish. “Look at your face,” he snapped, his fork dropping with a loud clatter onto his tray as he leaned forward. “She hit you right on top of that damn bruise. Just when it was starting to go down too. Who does she think she is?!”

I didn’t know what to say. I could feel the heat on my cheek still, blooming over the already sore skin from yesterday. But the way he looked at me—like I was broken glass someone else had dared to shatter—made it feel heavier. Like I was something he had reluctantly started to care about?

“Hopefully they just take that as a warning, right?” I said quietly, trying to steer his anger somewhere less… deadly. I gave a small shrug, eyes back on my plate, as if I wasn’t terrified of how real his threats always sounded.

He didn’t respond at first. He only grunted, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t catch, before reaching across the table and yanking the biscuit, yogurt, and extra fruit from the top of my tray. His movements were fast, impulsive, like his hunger hadn’t been satisfied by his own plate.

I didn’t stop him. I didn’t even flinch. I knew the drill by now. This was who he was. How he acted. I just exhaled through my nose and tried to focus on what was left. Bite by bite. Swallow by swallow.

“I shouldn’t have made you skip breakfast and lunch,” he said a few moments later, the words rushed and almost… awkward, as though he was displeased saying them.

I blinked.

That was… unexpected.

I looked up, fork suspended halfway to my mouth. “What?”

He didn’t repeat himself. Just glanced up at me, then looked back at the yogurt he was now devouring with his finger like he’d never held a spoon in his life.

“I won’t do that again,” he added more firmly, voice gruff. “You’re hungry. I can see that. It wasn’t fair.”

I nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. His voice still held that possessive edge, the one that made me feel like I wasn’t just his assigned human—that I was his property, in ways I didn’t quite understand yet.

“Well, thank you…” I murmured after a moment, and then added, almost sheepishly, “I suppose you made it to lunch yourself?”

He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly somewhat amused by my words.

“Yeah, nearly ate the place empty too from the mood I was in. But I shouldn’t have punished you with the food. I knew you hadn’t had breakfast either… I was debating even pushing it to having you skip dinner too…” He admitted, as my lips parted at his honesty.

So it actually had been calculated? Another control move, knowing that I’d be in the cell hungry and waiting for him…

I shrugged again, keeping my voice low, cautious of the inmates still sitting at surrounding tables. “It wasn’t all bad…” I played it off, but I could tell that he didn’t believe me by the way he rolled his eyes, which pushed me to continue…

“I got to think about what happened. About my mistake earlier. I get why it upset you, and please believe that I didn’t mean it. After that, I just read some more of that book. The one I started in the room. The guy in it reminds me of you,” I said softly, lying through my teeth about reading since I knew I had been far too anxious and on edge to even consider it.

But the thinking over what happened part was real… my mind wouldn’t stop reeling over it… terrified for what he would do or say when he came back.

“Better be the villain,” he muttered, smirking under his breath, surprising me since he didn’t address what happened or my apology either.

I gave a small, breathy laugh, surprised he even tried to joke with me right now.

More bipolar points to add to my list… I thought, as I stared across at him, his shoulders still tense.

“No,” I said, the corners of my mouth twitching before I could stop it. “He’s the one the girl thinks is the villain at first. But then he ends up saving her.”

Coban’s smirk faltered ever so slightly, as if the weight of those words settled somewhere behind his eyes. His gaze dragged back to mine across the table.

“What sort of soppy shit is that?” He grunted, shaking his head, as I all but shrugged, deciding not to push his buttons any further today.

I enjoyed him more when he was able to hold a conversation and wasn’t yelling and hauling me around like a rag-doll.

The room was finally beginning to thin out. Most of the tables had been cleared. The staff in the kitchen quiet.

Still, he didn’t rush me as I ate my own fruit for dessert.

For once, there was no barked demand. No impatient sigh. No pulling me away from the tray to fit his own agenda.

Coban leaned back in his seat, arms folding across his chest, legs stretched out like he didn’t give a single fuck anymore.