"What do you recommend?" Pharos stood before the service window, his posture relaxed. Dorian's food truck had no fixed menu; the dishes offered varied each time he opened.

" Fried fish and ragù pasta wrap. Today's best seller. Freshly fried."

"I'll have that."

Dorian turned and began frying. Pharos stood to the side waiting, maintaining a subtle distance from the other customers. People stole glances at him. No one recognized him as the heir to the Cesare family; they were simply naturally curious about the handsome stranger.

Dorian, quick and efficient with his hands, could handle several dishes simultaneously. Ten minutes later, he handed Pharos a fried fish and ragù pasta wrap in grease-proof paper.

"What time do you close today?" Pharos took the food.

"Eight." Dorian was packing another customer's order.

"I'll pick you up at eight twenty."

Pharos's reply was less of a command and more of a question awaiting confirmation. Dorian spared him a glance, the corner of his lips curving upward slightly.

"Eight thirty. In front of my place."

"Alright."

Unfortunately, the romantic movie scene of picking up one's boyfriend after work couldn't happen in real-life Italy. If Dorian left his food truck where it was, it would undoubtedly be a violation of the law. Not only would it mar the cityscape, but it would also be occupying public space belonging to citizens.

Dorian had no desire to receive an official notice the next day informing him that his food truck had been confiscated and his mobile vending license revoked.

Therefore, if Pharos wanted to pick him up, he could only wait in front of the old workshop Dorian rented, until he finished packing up and returned home.

Pharos returned to his car and slowly savored the specialty wrap Dorian had made. The tortilla was soft and thin, the golden fried batter crispy. Upon biting into the fried fish, one would notice the delicate texture of the flesh, its subtly sweet juices gently spreading through the mouth with each chew. The filling of ragù coated springy noodles, the savory aroma of ground meat, the slight acidity of tomatoes, and the fragrant layers of herbs like bay leaf and thyme all interweaving, complementing one another perfectly.

After finishing his meal, Pharos pulled out a wet wipe, something he had been keeping in the car regularly these days, and wiped his hands and mouth. He gathered the trash into a small plastic bag, then started up his metallic gray Maserati and drove toward the workshop.

After eight o'clock, Pharos waited in the car for a while longer before he saw Dorian's food truck return. Dorian opened the iron door of the workshop, parking the large food truck inside the indoor workspace that served as a garage. He spent nearly half an hour tidying everything up, then walked toward Pharos's car with the smell of cooking fumes clinging to him, casually pulling open the passenger door and getting in.

"Where to?" 

"My place." Pharos started the car and slowly pulled away from the industrial district.

There was a moment of quiet in the car. Neither of them was the talkative type, yet the occasional silence was never awkward.

"How was your day?" Pharos asked while stopped at a red light.

"Not bad. Some drunk didn't want to pay. I scared him off with a knife and fork." Dorian gazed out the window.

"Just scared him off? Didn't collect any 'emotional damages'?"

"You can't reason with drunks. He probably forgot where he even put his wallet. Besides, I still had to make the next order. No time to waste on him." Dorian stated the reality calmly.

"Pragmatic." Pharos gave a faint smile.

Dorian turned his head. "And you? Another day of mafia prince routine?"

"Same as always. Also, Flora said she liked that sandwich you made last time."

The Maserati pulled into the underground garage of an upscale apartment building in Posillipo. The two took the elevator directly to the top floor. The elevator opened into a private foyer. The smart home system recognized the owner, automatically unlocking the front door and turning on the interior lights. Dorian followed Pharos into the residence and surveyed the open-plan living room, seemingly searching for changes since his last visit.

"New bookshelf." He pointed out the obvious change. For them, a piece of furniture like a bookshelf carried a certain unspoken commemorative significance.

"Needed room for more books." Pharos tossed the trash he had brought from the car into the household bin.

Dorian walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked down at the Bay of Naples under the night sky. The scattered lights were like colorful stars fallen to earth.

"I have something for you." Pharos retrieved a delicate small box from the TV cabinet.

"Another mysterious collectible?" Seeing the small box in Pharos's hand, Dorian's expression turned somewhat teasing.

"You mentioned wanting to find an energy conduit to stabilize the control of two different types of Occult Ability energy. This might suit your needs." Pharos opened the box and took out that antique, irregularly oval-shaped metal pendant.

This wasn't the first time Pharos had brought him antiques or collectibles related to Occult Abilities. Dorian took the pendant, his fingertips tracing lightly along the rune patterns. The runes on the pendant's surface flickered faintly at his touch, the response of a high-quality energy conductor to a Beyonder.

"Runes in the style of Egypt's Ptolemaic dynasty, but the material composition seems more like something from Scandinavia. A rare fusion piece. Good eye." Dorian demonstrated his professional knowledge of such items.

Pharos wasn't surprised that Dorian could identify the pendant's origin and properties at a glance. After all, Dorian's knowledge of Beyonder items surpassed his own, thanks to his unique family background.

"Romo found it. I'm glad you like it." Seeing Dorian satisfied, Pharos naturally felt pleased as well. Even though he understood that Dorian, as the treasured darling of "The Scarlet Sovereign" and "The Amethyst Key," could probably have countless rare items at his fingertips if he ever asked, that didn't mean he as the boyfriend could skip showing his thoughtfulness.

Dorian hung the pendant around his neck. The metal rested against his skin, radiating a comfortable warmth, as if it had long known its owner.

"It fits well. Thank you. Feels much more comfortable than the one I saw at the Potenza market last month."

His fingers lightly touched the pendant. Last month, he had mentioned that market item of questionable quality, which was why Pharos had decided to find a truly superior energy conductor accessory, rather than some shoddy product that might fail at a critical moment.

Dorian turned toward the kitchen. He felt the "early dinner" in his stomach had mostly digested, and he could go for a late-night snack. "What's left in your fridge?"

"Rice, pasta, ham, bacon, eggs, fresh vegetables and fruits, and bread are all stocked. Actually, you don't need to cook every time you come over." Since Dorian had started visiting, the food inventory in Pharos's kitchen had increased significantly to meet the chef boyfriend's needs.

"Are you implying you want to cook? Like a recipe from that Spanish cookbook I gave you?" Dorian retrieved cooking pots and pans from the cabinet with practiced ease, as comfortable as if he were in his own home.

"Don't make me relive that disaster." Pharos couldn't help but laugh, not the least bit embarrassed by the mention of his past mishap.

"I thought your Spanish Paella was quite creative. Those practically raw grains of rice deserved to be posted on Instagram for posterity." Dorian wore a mischievous smile.

Earlier this year, when they were just getting to know each other, they had made quite a few clumsy attempts. Back then, Dorian had been highly skeptical of the mafia prince's culinary skills, while Pharos had tried to prove he wasn't the type of pampered young master who couldn't lift a finger for himself. The end result was, of course, a disaster worthy of laughs.

"What I meant was, we could order takeout, and I've also prepared some instant meal kits to save time. You said you don't mind instant food." Pharos shook his head with a helpless smile.

"Even with instant meal kits, I can't help but want to add my own touches. Not just eating to fill the stomach, but eating well. Old family tradition."

Dorian opened the fridge and picked through its contents. Pharos leaned his waist and hips against the counter, watching him retrieve various ingredients from the refrigerator.