Chapter 203 072
MEETING Wendy felt almost unreal to the twins. It was as though time paused for a few seconds and resumed in slow motion.
“Hi, boys,” she had greeted, her voice soft and polite, that easy smile curving her lips as she placed the plates before them.
And then she was gone.
The kitchen doors swung shut behind her, leaving Gabriel and Gaddiel staring at the space she had just vacated as if she might reappear any second.
George noticed the stillness.
He cleared his throat gently.
“Alright, boys,” he began in his calm, steady voice. “That was Wendy, my daughter.”
Both heads snapped toward him at once.
“Your daughter?” Gabriel repeated, eyes wide.
Gaddiel leaned forward.
“Like… your actual daughter?”
George raised a brow, amused.
“Yes. My actual daughter.”
The twins looked at each other in disbelief.
“But…” Gabriel started cautiously.
“You are… older,” Gaddiel finished, struggling for diplomacy.
George’s lips twitched.
“That tends to happen with age.”
Gabriel shook his head quickly.
“No, I mean… she is young.”
“And pretty,” Gaddiel added without hesitation.
Gabriel nodded vigorously.
“Very pretty.”
George folded his hands behind his back, the hint of pride impossible to hide in his eyes.
“Thank you. I will be sure to let her know she has admirers.”
The boys instantly straightened.
“We are not admirers,” Gabriel corrected quickly.
“Just observers,” Gaddiel clarified.
George chuckled softly.
“Observers who stare with their mouths open?”
Both boys clamped their lips shut at once.
“We were not staring,” Gabriel insisted.
“You were staring,” Gaddiel countered.
“You were staring more!”
George laughed outright this time, the sound warm and genuine.
“Gentlemen, eat your lunch before it gets cold.”
The twins finally looked down at their plates as though remembering food existed. Grilled cheese sandwiches cut into neat triangles sat beside a small bowl of tomato soup. A handful of carrot sticks and cucumber slices rested at the edge of the plate.
Gabriel dipped his sandwich into the soup thoughtfully.
“She doesn’t look like she could be your daughter.”
George tilted his head.
“And what exactly does a butler’s daughter look like?”
Gaddiel paused mid-bite.
“Not… like that.”
“Like what?” George pressed lightly.
“Like… regular,” Gabriel said.
George’s eyes sparkled.
“She is regular. She just happens to be beautiful.”
The twins exchanged a look again.
“How old is she?” Gaddiel asked.
“Ten,” George replied calmly.
Gabriel nearly choked on his sandwich.
“Ten?”
“Yes.”
“That is older than us,” Gaddiel muttered.
“By two years,” George confirmed.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair thoughtfully.
“That is fine.”
George lifted a brow again.
“Is it?”
“Yeah,” Gabriel said, nodding as if he had conducted complex calculations in his head.
Gaddiel elbowed him under the table.
“Ow!” Gabriel hissed.
“Eat,” George reminded them, though he was clearly entertained.
They obeyed, finally taking proper bites of their food.
After a few moments of chewing in relative silence, Gaddiel looked toward the kitchen doors.
“Is Wendy not going to join us?” he asked casually.
Gabriel nodded immediately.
“Yeah. She can sit here.” He gestured to the empty chair across from them.
George shook his head gently.
“She already had lunch when she returned from school a few hours ago.”
“Oh,” Gabriel said, clearly disappointed.
“What school does she go to?” he asked quickly.
Before George could answer, a familiar voice carried from the staircase.
“Boys.”
Both twins stiffened instantly.
Adrian was descending the stairs, his loosened undone tie on his neck, sleeves rolled up just enough to signal he was done with office formalities for the day.
“You are here to eat,” he continued evenly. “Not conduct interviews.”
“Yes, Dad,” they chorused immediately.
Gabriel lowered his head and focused intently on his sandwich.
Gaddiel reached for his lemonade without another word.
Adrian stepped into the dining room, glancing briefly at George.
“They settling in alright?” he asked quietly.
“Perfectly, sir,” George replied. “Very… observant boys.”
Adrian’s lips twitched knowingly.
“I can imagine.”
Gabriel tried very hard not to look curious again. Gaddiel shoveled a carrot stick into his mouth to avoid speaking.
Adrian stepped closer to the table.
“You two behaving?”
“Yes, Dad,” Gabriel answered quickly.
“Very much,” Gaddiel added.
Adrian studied them for a second longer, then nodded.
“Good. Finish up. I will see you both later.”
He turned slightly toward George.
“Everything ready upstairs?”
“Yes, sir. Rooms prepared, uniforms will be pressed for tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect.”
Adrian lowered his voice slightly.
“And thank you.”
George gave a small respectful nod.
“Always, sir.”
Satisfied, Adrian adjusted his watch and moved toward the hallway.
The twins waited until he was fully out of sight before slowly lifting their heads again.
George caught the movement and shook his head in mild amusement.
“Eat,” he reminded them once more.
They complied this time without protest, dipping sandwiches into soup and finally focusing on their plates, though every now and then, their eyes flickered toward the kitchen doors as if hoping for another glimpse of Wendy.
George picked up the empty tray and paused for a second, watching them with a knowing smile.
Young hearts, he thought.
Then he turned and walked back into the kitchen, leaving the twins to their lunch and their very new, very distracting discovery.
The suite was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant murmur of traffic drifting in from the balcony doors. Amelia was no longer sitting at the balcony, she now sat at the small glass desk near the other window, not in her usual structured posture of a CEO reviewing quarterly reports, but slightly leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes narrowed at the screen before her.
This was not Satin & Sage.
This was not the resort.
This was not the flower shop.
This wasn't even payroll, fabric and floral shipments, or new franchise proposals.
On her laptop were tabs layered upon tabs. A private browser window. Security logs. Archived call histories. A spreadsheet she had personally compiled over weeks which included dates, times, unknown numbers, unusual access attempts to her company’s internal network. A pattern. There had to be one.
Her fingers moved calmly across the keyboard, but her mind was razor sharp.
The café at her resort.
The same Tuesdays.
The same hour.
A few unfamiliar faces appearing repeatedly on different days in the background of security captures. Too coincidental to be random. She enlarged one image slightly, studying posture, build, clothing repetition. Not staff. Not regular guests.
Interesting.
She reached for the notebook beside her and wrote something down— three short bullet points. Then she underlined one name. Not a full name. Just an initial.
Her lips curved faintly.
So, someone thought they were clever.
She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, eyes still fixed on the screen. The boarding decision. The trip. The carefully timed absence. Every move she had made these past weeks had been deliberate. If someone was watching her routine, let them now scramble.
Let them wonder.
Her phone lay face-down beside the laptop. Silent since the last call from Charles, except of course for the occasional message from staff confirming things were running smoothly.
She picked it up and checked something briefly. No new alerts.
Good.
She turned back to her screen, pulling up another window, this one requiring a password she typed slowly and deliberately. A different interface loaded. Clean. Minimal. Professional.
Her gaze hardened slightly.
“Let’s see how far you have gone, baby,” she murmured to herself.
Just as she clicked into a new file, her phone vibrated sharply against the glass desk, breaking the quiet intensity of the room.
She paused.
Once.
Twice.
She flipped the phone over.
Adrian.
A soft smile replaced the steel in her eyes almost instantly.
The boys.
Of course.
She exhaled, closing the laptop halfway but not completely, then picked up the phone and swiped to answer.