The house was silent, save for Michelle’s angry sobs.
“Enough, Michelle.” Gareth’s voice was sharp. “Go up to your room! We will talk about this later.”
Michelle flinched but didn’t back down. She scread louder. “No! You’ll just kick Jasmine out and expect to be okay with it! You can’t fool !”
“Michelle, stop this nonsense right now. You don’t understand,” he warned again, but I could hear the strain in his tone. He could order the entire Lycan community, but he was helpless when it ca to his young daughter.
“You are the one that doesn’t understand! You didn’t even co to my last archery test! All the other parents showed up!” she shouted, her voice breaking with hurt. “I won a prize, but you didn’t even ask how it went! Only Butler Jones congratulated !”
There was a sharp silence. I looked at Gareth, and for just a second, I saw it—pain. It flashed in his eyes before he blinked it away, but I caught it.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Ran a hand down his face. He looked... tired.
Then he let out a long breath. “Fine.”
Michelle sniffed. “What?”
“Jasmine stays. Happy?” Gareth muttered, rubbing his temples.
Michelle wiped her face on her sleeve and nodded quickly. Her voice was softer, but it wavered with childish hope. “Promise . You can’t lie to .”
He hesitated, clearly wanting to say no. But he looked at her, and then he said, “I promise.”
She sniffled again but smiled a little. Just a flicker.
Then Gareth turned to . “You. Co with . We need to talk.”
I followed him into a wide, modern office with shelves of books, sleek furniture, and a large window overlooking the garden. He shut the door behind us.
I stayed near the entrance, arms crossed. “So... this is the part where you fire in secret?”
“I promised Michelle I wouldn’t.”
He sat behind his desk and stared at for a long second. “I brought you here to thank you.”
I blinked. “Excuse ?”
I didn’t see that coming. My arms dropped to my sides, the tension slipping just a little.
He leaned back in his chair. “She’s difficult.”
“She’s hurting,” I said quietly.
He nodded once, eyes dark. “She wasn’t always like this. She used to be... lighter. More cheerful. But after Isa got engaged...She doesn’t smile like she used to.”
“She’s lonely,” I said. “She told .”
He looked out the window. “I’m not good at this.”
“No,” I said honestly. “You’re not.”
His eyes snapped back to , surprised—but not angry.
“But that doesn’t an you can’t try,” I added.
There was another silence. Then he cleared his throat. “Look, I still don’t trust you.”
“Yeah, I got that part loud and clear.”
“But...” he sighed. “She likes you. I’ve never seen her open up to anyone like that. Ever. So if you’re staying—”
“I’m staying,” I said, firmly.
“Then do your job,” he finished. “Do it right. Don’t hurt her. And if you ever try to use her to get close to or my family—”
“I won’t,” I cut in. “I told you. I didn’t co for you.”
He nodded slowly, still watching like he wasn’t sure whether to respect or throw out a window.
“And Gareth?” I added, voice soft. “If you want her to stop feeling like an afterthought... if you want her to be happy, make the effort to show up. Even if it’s ssy, even if it’s not perfect. She just wants you to be there.”
He didn’t answer, but
I could tell I’d hit a nerve.
“She just... misses you,” I added, trying to smooth it over. “She doesn’t say it, but it’s obvious.”
Gareth leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp again. “Do you always enjoy judging how I raise my daughters? First Isabella’s engagent, and now Michelle?”
That stung, even if it shouldn’t have. I forced a shrug. “I’m just the ssenger. You don’t have to listen.”
He stood slowly, walking around the desk until we were only a few feet apart. I didn’t back away, but I could feel the tension growing between us. Every step he took seed louder than it should’ve been. The space between us felt too close and too charged.
“I don’t need parenting tips from soone who barely knows us,” he said, voice low. “Especially not from soone with no children of her own.”
“And I’m not giving them,” I replied calmly. “I’m just telling you what I see.”
His jaw ticked.
I raised an eyebrow. “Unless you don’t want to hear that either.”
He didn’t answer. But he didn’t look away either.
I didn’t know how it happened—how we got so close. One mont we were arguing, and the next, I could feel the heat of his body. His scent—woodsy and clean—wrapped around before I realized it. My heart beat faster.
His eyes dipped, flicked to my collarbone, and then lower. I felt heat wash over my body.
Gareth cleared his throat and stepped back fast, rubbing the back of his neck like he was annoyed with himself.
“From now on,” he muttered, “if you’re coming here to tutor Michelle, you’ll dress appropriately.”
I blinked. “What?”
“No more tank tops and shorts.”
I glanced down at my outfit, then back at him. “This? This is casual and comfortable.”
“Not for tutoring,” he said gruffly, already walking back behind his desk.
“Right,” I muttered under my breath. “I wear breathable clothes while dodging knives.”
He didn’t respond, but I saw his fingers tighten around the edge of his desk.
The air between us had changed—again.
A wicked thought ca over and I sashayed toward Gareth’s desk, slowly. My hand brushed against my hip as I moved, and I caught the way his eyes flicked to the curve of my waist.
Gotcha.
I tilted my head, pretending not to notice. “So let get this straight,” I said, taking one step closer. “You’re letting stay, but only if I wear long sleeves and baggy pants?” I gave him an innocent look. “Should I co in a nun’s robe next ti?”
His jaw tightened. “Jasmine...”
I stepped a little closer, letting my fingers run through my hair as I glanced down at myself, then back up at him. “It’s just skin, Gareth. I didn’t know you were so... sensitive.”
He stood up too quickly, the chair scraping back behind him. “I’m not sensitive.”
“Oh? Could’ve fooled ,” I said with a smirk, turning half away from him so he could get a better look at the curve of my back, and my legs.
He was dead silent. But the tension in the air? It was electric. If either of us said one more wrong thing, the room would explode.
His voice ca out low and rough. “Don’t play gas with .”
“Why not?” I whispered, eting his eyes. “You’re the one who made rules about what I wear. I’m just trying to understand... What exactly is the problem?”
He stared at like he wanted to say sothing—maybe shout or whatever. But he didn’t.
He just looked... hungry.
I smirked, enjoying the rare upper hand. Dangerous? Yes. But for once, I wasn’t the one on edge.
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