Spanish food

Five days passed, and the dynamics between Hazel and Francisco underwent subtle shifts, bringing them closer. Yet, Hazel maintained a careful boundary, navigating the newfound closeness with a cautious demeanor. During this time, Francisco's restrictions prevented her from going to the office or accompanying him outside.

Hazel cooked for him every day, and she seized every opportunity to discreetly explore Francisco's mansion. Despite her knowledge of the security code, she hesitated to venture into his room, wary of surveillance cameras that could potentially betray her actions.

On the night Francisco prepared to depart for Georgia, Hazel knew this was her last chance. Determined and with a strategic plan in mind, she took a deep breath.

I hope you guys have been there already.

Rafael, I hope you are doing well.

As the night unfolded, Hazel prepared a spicy meal for Francisco, knowing it would be their last dinner together. Francisco, engrossed in a phone conversation, continued his discussion while Hazel seized the opportunity to execute her plan. Holding a file in hand, she entered the room, her sidelong glance conveying a sense of determination.

Placing the file on the table, Hazel made a strategic move. Over the past few days, she had discreetly gathered information on Francisco's potential involvement in illegal dealings.

Tonight, she took decisive action by informing the authorities, ensuring that her actions would set in motion the investigation needed to uncover the truth.

While Francisco remained engrossed in his phone call, Hazel moved towards his suitcase, her hands deftly fixing his dress.

During the conversation, Francisco mentioned, "I will be in Texas, and my man will be in Georgia."

Hazel's ears perked up, attentively absorbing every word. She heard the details of his plans, an invaluable piece of information that could potentially aid her mission.

"I will call you at the right time."

As Francisco continued to assure the person at the other end of the line, Hazel stood there. Dressed in a stunning white frock, she became an unexpected force in the room.

Francisco observed Hazel as she busied herself preparing his bags. A mixture of thoughts and emotions played across his face.

I thought you would come to my room when I was not home.

But you didn't.

Every time you keep proving me wrong.

But when I think about trusting you, something is stopping me.

But tonight, I am going far from you.

So my heart wants to believe you.

Will you break my trust?

I know you won't.

Getting up from the couch, Francisco approached Hazel, who was about to turn around. In their proximity, she accidentally hit herself, but Francisco deftly clasped her in his arms, preventing any further mishap.

"Mr. Francisco!" Hazel exclaimed, caught off guard by the sudden closeness.

"Hazel," Francisco's voice softened, their gazes locking onto each other.

"I was just fixing your suitcase. I arranged all the files here," Hazel explained, attempting to move away, but Francisco's grip remained firm.

Suddenly, he made her look at him with a determined expression.

"Hazel, listen to me!" he urged.

Turning fully towards him, Hazel met his gaze, their eyes locking in a moment of intense connection.

"I am going tonight," Francisco revealed to Hazel.

Hazel, taken aback by the unexpected statement, narrowed her eyes. The question lingered in the air, "Will you wait for me?"

Her mind raced with confusion, questioning why Francisco would say something like that.

Stammering, Hazel replied, "Of course, I will."

"I am your PA."

"But you are not allowing me with you," she added, seeking clarity.

Francisco raised his eyebrows, a subtle acknowledgment of her words, yet he didn't directly respond. Instead, he explained, "It was urgent work, Hazel."

Hazel nodded, accepting the explanation, and lowered her eyes.

Suddenly, Francisco cupped her face, gently making her look at him. His gaze was intense, creating a momentary silence in the room. For a brief second, Hazel wondered if he was going to kiss her, but he chose to rub her lips instead.

Hazel gulped slowly, feeling the weight of the intense gaze and the unexpected touch. In her mind, the mission she had been carrying out quietly continued to play out.

"Mr. Francisco!"

Hazel's voice carried a note of urgency and nervousness, the weight of unspoken questions hanging in the air. She needed clarity, a reassurance that Francisco hadn't uncovered her plan.

"Why... Why did you ask me that?"

Hazel questioned, her words revealing a mix of curiosity and unease.

"It's just I have feelings," Francisco replied, his tone carrying a sense of vulnerability.

Hazel, eager to dispel any doubt, smiled and assured, "I hope you won't do something that makes me disappointed."

"Why would I do that?"

She added, her attempt to deflect with humor was evident in her tone.

However, Francisco, ever perceptive, caught on.

"Wait, are you thinking I am going to steal something from your mansion?"

Hazel teased, trying to make light of the situation.

Hearing her, Francisco chuckled, "You can't do it. Because if I go away from you, my eyes will still keep on you. You can't run away with my things."

Hazel, feigning surprise, raised her brows and playfully pushed him a bit.

"Then, as I am going to run away, and you are going to chase me, why not we celebrate our last night, Mr. Francisco?" she suggested with a mischievous tone.

The playful banter danced in the air, concealing the true intentions that lurked beneath the surface. Hazel's words held a double meaning, a hidden agenda masked by the facade of jest.

"Really, what are you going to give me, Ms. Hazel?"

Francisco inquired, his demeanor shifting from amusement to curiosity.

Hazel, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, responded, "Wait a bit."

With that, she swiftly exited the room, leaving Francisco with a hint of anticipation.

His smiley face turned stern as he glanced at the drawer where he kept his secret plans. Suspicion crept into his expression, a silent acknowledgment that trust wasn't easily given.

However, in just a minute, Hazel returned to the room with a tray. On it lay a bottle of whiskey and Txistorra, a spicy Spanish dish. Francisco, arching his brows, couldn't hide his surprise at the unexpected offering.

"I didn't know you could make Spanish food," he remarked.

Hazel, with a touch of self-consciousness, confessed, "I don't know. Actually, I was trying hard to learn it from YouTube and also took help from Lily."

She pressed her lips together, a hint of uncertainty in her expression.

"I... I don't know how it will taste, Mr. Francisco."