Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 20: Chapter 20 Feeling Sick

"F*ck!" Cedric said as he sat in the back seat, his head pressed against the window, his eyes squeezed shut. "I feel so sick."

The car glided through the city streets, sunlight washing over his pale face. His skin had a greenish tint. His forehead was damp with sweat. The cruise ship had been a nightmare. Three days of nausea, of pretending everything was fine while Jessica laughed and drank and took photos for her social media.

He had suffered in silence. Now he was home. Now he could stop pretending.

Daisy sat beside him, her small bag clutched in her lap, her dark eyes fixed on his face. She watched the way his jaw tightened with every bump in the road, the way his hand pressed against his stomach and the way his breath came in shallow bursts.

Her heart ached for him.

She wanted to reach out, touch his hand, and comfort him but she knew he would not want her touch. He never wanted her touch.

So she just watched and thought about the kitchen in the mansion. The ingredients she would need. Ginger, mint, honey, and lemon. Her mother had taught her the recipe years ago, on a summer trip to the coast when her father had been sick from the ferry.

She would make it for Cedric. He would feel better.

After a while, the car pulled into the mansion gates.

Daisy did not go to her room. She dropped her small bag on a chair in the hallway and went straight to the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty. The chef had left for the day. The servants were cleaning in other parts of the house. Daisy was alone.

She moved quickly. She pulled a small pot from the cabinet and filled it with water. She placed it on the stove and turned the flame to high. While the water heated, she gathered her ingredients.

Fresh ginger root from the basket on the counter. She peeled it with a small knife, slicing it into thin coins. The smell was sharp and clean, filling the kitchen with warmth.

A handful of mint leaves from the small potted plant on the windowsill. She crushed them between her palms, releasing their oils. The scent mingled with the ginger, fresh and soothing.

A lemon from the fruit bowl. She rolled it on the counter to loosen the juice, then cut it in half and squeezed every drop into a small cup. A jar of honey from the pantry.

The water began to boil.

Daisy dropped the ginger slices into the pot and watched them dance in the bubbling water. She let them steep for five minutes, until the liquid turned golden and the air smelled like her mother’s kitchen.

She strained the tea into a warm mug. Added honey, mint and a thin slice of lemon on the rim, because her mother always said food should be beautiful as well as useful.

The mug was warm in her hands.

Daisy held it carefully and walked upstairs.

—Cedric’s Room—

The door was closed. Daisy knocked softly, her knuckles barely making a sound.

"Come in," Cedric said. His voice was weak, tired, and annoyed.

Daisy pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was dark. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the sunlight. The lamp on the nightstand was off. The only illumination came from the hallway behind her, spilling across the floor in a soft rectangle.

Cedric was lying on the bed. He was sprawled across the covers, still wearing his clothes from the cruise. His shirt was wrinkled. His hair was messy. His arm was thrown over his eyes, blocking out even the dim light.

He looked lifeless.

Daisy’s chest tightened. She walked toward the bed, her footsteps silent on the thick carpet. The mug sent tendrils of steam into the cool air, carrying the scent of ginger and mint.

Cedric moved his arm.

He looked at her.

His blue eyes were dull. His handsome face was twisted with annoyance. He looked at the mug in her hands like it was an inconvenience.

"What is this?" he asked.

Daisy held the mug out to him. She pointed at the mug, then at him, then made a drinking motion with her hand.

It is for you. Drink.

Cedric stared at her. "For my sickness?"

Daisy nodded. Her dark eyes lit up with hope. She nodded again, her caramel hair bouncing around her shoulders. She looked eager, almost desperate.

Cedric stared at the mug, then at her, then at the mug again.

He sat up slowly, groaning as the room tilted around him. He reached out and took the mug from her hands.

He sniffed it. It did not smell terrible.

He took a small sip.

The warmth spread through his chest. The ginger settled his churning stomach. The honey gave him energy. The mint cleared the fog from his head.

He took another sip, then another. Then he drank the whole thing.

He held the empty mug in his hands and blinked. The nausea was gone. The dizziness was fading. His skin felt cool instead of clammy.

He felt better. Much better.

He looked at the empty mug, then at Daisy.

She was standing by the bed, her hands clasped in front of her, her big dark eyes watching him anxiously.

"How did you know how to make this?" he asked.

Daisy pointed at herself, then at her heart, then made a small gesture with her hands like she was remembering something.

My mother taught me.

Cedric stared at her. Then he set the empty mug on the nightstand.

"It is good," he said.

Daisy’s whole face lit up. She smiled so wide her eyes crinkled at the corners. She clasped her hands together and bounced on her heels slightly, her joy overflowing.

Cedric just watched her. He did not bother to say thank you or give a small smile.

He lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

"Close the door on your way out," he said.

Daisy’s smile dimmed, but she nodded. She picked up the empty mug and walked to the door.

She paused at the threshold and looked back at him.

He was already pulling the blanket over his shoulder, turning away from her. She closed the door quietly and walked to her room.