Content with the report, Elliana headed to the dining room, Heather trailing behind her, barely containing her excitement.
Once inside, Heather bustled about, setting out an impressive spread. “I’ve been trying out some new recipes,” she said proudly. “You have to try today’s specials!”
Within minutes, the table was transformed into a banquet—aromatic dishes neatly arranged, steam curling into the air like an invitation.
Elliana’s stomach growled again, louder this time. She accepted the silverware Heather handed her and wasted no time diving in. “This is phenomenal,” she said between bites, eyes wide with delight. “Truly. You’ve outdone yourself. You really ought to consider training an apprentice before the recipes die with you.”
Heather’s cheeks flushed pink as she beamed at the praise. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, already weighing candidates in her head. Perhaps that slow-moving Hugh? He was dim, sure, but teachable.
Unaware of the culinary plans brewing in Heather’s mind, Elliana simply continued eating, savoring the rare quiet moment. Breakfast and lunch had blurred into one, but time meant little to her now—her research into Psychephrenia had already scrambled the rhythm of her days.
Just then, Damian came barreling into the room, breathless and wide-eyed. “Something’s happened!”
Elliana arched a brow with practiced calm. “What is it now? Has the sky decided to fall?”
“Almost!” Damian gasped.
She set down her fork, amused. “Damian, breathe. Then spit it out—no suspense. I’m eating.”
Damian scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. “Cole dispatched a few guys to deliver gifts for you. Should I let them in?”
Elliana froze, her fork suspended mid-air. Gifts from Cole? In all their days of marriage, he’d only ever given her one—”Love,” the bracelet. He was never the thoughtful type, and now, post-divorce, he was sending gifts? Finding herself intrigued, she said, “Alright, let them in.”
“Right away!” Damian chirped, bolting out of the room.
Elliana finished the last bites of her meal, then rose and wandered into the living room to wait. She’d barely taken a seat on the couch when the floor trembled beneath her. The next moment, the doors opened wide, and an entire squadron of men in black suits swept in like a tactical operation, moving in perfect synchronization and flooding the room.
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The men, all dressed in sharp black suits, walked in one after another carrying finely crafted crates. No one could tell what was inside.
Elliana blinked, stunned by the bizarre scene unfolding before her. Seriously? Did Cole really need to make such a big show just to send her some gifts? A procession of dozens of men in identical black suits, each holding an identical crate—it wasn’t just a gesture. It was extravagance on full display.
And Elliana wasn’t the only one gawking. Clifton dropped his cleaning rag mid-wipe. Kieran forgot his patrol route altogether. Heather ripped off her apron with wide eyes, and even Damian, who had just finished locking the gate, rushed over to see what was going on.
Once the men in black lined up in perfect, silent formation, Hugh entered last. Unlike the others, he held a small, delicate box. The moment Heather spotted Hugh, her eyes lit up, and her gaze locked onto his with quiet intensity.
.
.
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