Chapter Hundred and Fifteen
The lunch box sat on the passenger seat, its foil-wrapped contents sending faint waves of heat into the confined space of the car. Markus stared at it, one hand lazily gripping the wheel as he waited for the gates to open.
Matilda's aunt had done it again, always shoving food into his hands like he was one missed meal away from starvation. He hadn't even said yes. One minute, he'd said he wasn't hungry, and the next, the damn thing was warming his car like it belonged there.
Now, he was used to it. He was used to getting his lunchbox before leaving.
He sighed and started driving. It was his off day, the one day he wasn't expected to train anyone, kill anyone, or drag anyone to safety.
If Ahmet's mother, his aunt, ever found out he was eating someone else's food like he had paid her to cook for him every single day, especially that woman's food, he was a dead man.
