The Next Day...
The soft sound of short kisses filled Grace’s apartnt as she and Haines stood in the middle of the living room. His arms circled her waist, and her hand rested gently against his chest.
When Haines finally drew his head back, the corners of Grace’s mouth curled up, her cheeks flushed pink as she bit her lower lip, still savoring the lingering softness of his kisses.
"You know..." she trailed off, wiggling her brows suggestively. "I still have so ti to spare. If you promise to make it quick, we could probably... you know..."
Haines let out a shallow laugh, watching her try to sound modest about it. "Should we?"
"I an... why not?" she humd, pressing herself closer. "We start the morning in a much better mood, and hey, your knees get the workout they need!"
"It’s not my knees that are the problem," Haines quipped.
She grinned mischievously. "Well, it’s close to your thighs, so—" she stopped mid-sentence, tipping her head toward the bedroom.
Haines chuckled and pulled her closer again. Temptation was definitely there, even though they’d just finished... not to ntion last night’s multiple rounds.
But before he could lower his head to kiss her again, the doorbell rang.
Both of them froze.
Grace jolted in his arms and turned toward the door. Haines did the sa.
"Were you expecting anyone?" he asked, eyes still on the door.
"No," Grace shook her head, brows drawn in suspicion. "I don’t invite people over this early. If I did, it’d be to my office—or sowhere public."
They exchanged a wary look.
"Should I hide?" Haines asked suddenly.
"Why?" she blinked, then smirked. "Do you want to answer the door?"
"..." Haines fell silent, looking away. "No."
Grace narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Next ti, you’re answering it."
"Maybe."
With that, Haines carefully let her go while she reluctantly stepped back.
"I swear... if this isn’t important, I’m going to strangle whoever’s outside," she muttered, stalking toward the door. Haines chuckled as he made his way to the kitchen to start breakfast.
As Haines busied himself, Grace took a mont to roll her neck and shoulders before the front door. Normally, she’d check the monitor first—but with Penny’s shadow guards ensuring her safety, she didn’t bother anymore.
She expected a delivery... maybe a neighbor with homade cookies.
But this? She didn’t expect this.
"Good morning!"
There, standing right outside her door, was Hugo. And behind him stood Kiara and Cassandra, both smiling nervously with a strange mix of guilt and apology.
"G-Good morning, Attorney..." Kiara stamred, visibly embarrassed to be at Grace’s place so early.
Grace scoffed and imdiately locked eyes on Hugo. "Hugo. What is the aning of this?"
"Well—" Before he could explain, Hugo grabbed Kiara and Cassandra by the arms and practically shoved them in front of him. "I’m delivering them to you via Hugo’s Special Services!"
"...What?"
"Oh, and I’m here to pick up my uncle," he added like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Grace opened her mouth... and then closed it again when Hugo, without missing a beat, pushed Kiara and Cassandra inside. She had to grab the doorfra to avoid being knocked over.
"Hug—"
"Uncle Haines! I’m here!" Hugo called out like this was his own ho. "Uncle! Where are you—oh! There you are!"
Hugo stopped between the dining area and kitchen, spotting Haines setting down a plate on the table.
Haines lifted his head slowly to et his nephew’s squinting eyes.
"Hugo..." His brow rose. "You’re... here?"
"Yup! I’m here to pick you up!"
"Pick up?" Haines frowned. "Did your father send you?"
"Nope! First Brother told to. He said it’s a... uh... crisis!" Hugo bead. "First Brother found out last night he’s terminally ill!"
"...What?"
"Yep! Everyone’s crying about it. He said he wants to see you on his deathbed."
Hugo blinked innocently while Haines’s expression turned from shock to utter disbelief.
Crap! He’s not buying it! Hugo panicked and quickly scrambled for a backup plan.
"Zoren killed soone last night!" he tried.
Nothing. Haines’s cold stare only grew colder.
"Penny’s getting a divorce? Because she’s pregnant and Zoren’s mad it’s only twins and not quadruplets?"
Still nothing.
"Uh... Slater gave all his savings to experience the thrill of earning money again?"
Haines’s silence deepened.
"...Butler Jen’s resigning?" Hugo tossed out desperately.
Still no reaction.
Hugo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Okay. Plan C it is... but I really didn’t want to go that far...
"You don’t have to lie," Haines finally said with a sigh. "You’re terrible at it."
He shook his head and turned back to the kitchen. "I’ll finish this and then I’ll go with you."
Hugo’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Yes!" he whispered in triumph.
---
\[Back at the Front Door]
As soon as Hugo disappeared, Kiara and Cassandra turned awkwardly to Grace, their faces pale with guilt and apology.
"I-I’m really sorry, Attorney," Kiara stamred, flustered. "We tried to stop him, but... Penny kicked the three of us out."
"This is so unprofessional... and we’re really sorry," Cassandra added, her head bowing in embarrassnt.
Grace winced, holding back the urge to groan. This is what I get for being the ’young’ aunt. They treat like I’m one of them!
She huffed and crossed her arms. "What do you an, Penny kicked you out? Where have you even been?"
"Well..." Kiara and Cassandra exchanged nervous glances before turning back to her.
"It’s... kind of a long story," Kiara started slowly, her voice shaky.
"But apparently," Cassandra finished, "we might be... um... killed?"
Hearing this, Grace closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She heard the sa from Penny when the latter planted shadow guards on her. At least, to Grace, it was perfectly explained. She wasn’t just sure if Hugo and Penny, especially explained the situation properly to them.
After another huff, Grace leaned against the doorfra. "Don’t bother. Just go in."
Still, Kiara and Cassandra couldn’t hide their sha as they welcod themselves in Grace’s place.
As for Grace, she had to follow the ladies and watch Hugo drag her lover out without even allowing them to share a kiss.
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