The moment she entered her office, her assistant’s voice cut through the air, "Your grandpa, Leonardo, has returned to the country and summoned all upper management to the No. 1 conference room for an urgent meeting."
Upon hearing this, Giselle turned and walked toward the meeting room, casually instructing her assistant as she went, "Get me a few sets of the latest suits and watches."
The assistant quickly responded, "Yes, President Deveraux. I’ll arrange it and have them delivered straight to Assistant Remington’s place."
Giselle paused, pinching the bridge of her nose. "No, send them to the Thatcher Grand Residence."
In her mind, since I left the villa, the Thatcher family home was the only place she figured I could possibly be staying.
A week later, late at night.
After finally wrapping up a project, Giselle returned home and found a figure curled up on the living room sofa like a shrimp.
"Milo, how many times have I told you? I’ll come home when I’m done with work. You don’t need to…"
But as she drew closer and realized it was Knox, the sneer on her lips stopped mid-sentence.
Under her cold stare, Knox couldn’t help but shiver. His expression was a mix of hurt and pleading.
"Giselle... he... he still hasn’t come back. I’ve sent him so many apology messages, but he’s ignored all of them. Maybe I should just move out?"
Seeing the hurt in Knox’s eyes, Giselle’s heart softened. She wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace.
She planted a half-hearted kiss on his cheek and gently whispered, urging him to take care of himself, not to overthink things.
"Whether Milo accepts it or not, from now on, this is your home."
Half an hour later, dressed in a robe, Giselle stood alone on the open-air balcony, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.
She knew better than to smoke while pregnant, but tonight, she couldn’t seem to help herself.
Almost without thinking, her fingers slid across her phone screen until her eyes landed on my name at the very bottom of her contacts list.
Her thumb hovered over the call button for what felt like an eternity.
After finishing two cigarettes, she finally made her decision. Instead of calling, she typed a warning message.
[Milo, tomorrow is Grandpa’s 80th birthday. Don’t even think about pulling any stunts at the banquet. Don’t embarrass me or Knox.]