The door opened easily, and she stepped into what felt unmistakably like him. The air smelled faintly of coffee and leather. The décor was simple with dark woods, neutral tones, wide open space. But beneath the restraint, there was warmth. A large sofa faced a minimalist entertainment setup, and along the walls were small but telling details: framed football jerseys filled the walls, a surfboard propped against one corner, disarray of badminton racquets lying around.
It wasn't staged like the main house, no antique mirrors or polished silver. This was lived-in. A man's den in every sense: practical, uncluttered, confident.
Noelle moved deeper into the room, her eyes tracing the clean lines of the space. She could almost picture him here: late at night, reviewing documents with a glass of whiskey beside him, or spending quiet mornings watching the sunrise through the tall glass panels.
The stillness wrapped around her. There was no one else: no staff, no sound, only the faint echo of her own footsteps. Then, from somewhere deeper in the house, she heard his voice, low, steady, and unmistakably focused. He was on a call.
For some reason, that steadied her. She set her bag down on the counter and exhaled softly.
She was in his world now and it was very different from what she'd imagined.
Ren's voice faded as he ended his call. A moment later, he stepped into the living area, rolling his sleeves down and offering her a small, apologetic smile.
"Sorry," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "That went longer than I thought. Thanks for coming. I didn't want to cancel on you, but today's been… hectic."
Noelle smiled faintly. "You don't have to explain. I get it."
He studied her for a second, as if checking whether she truly meant it, then nodded toward the sofa. "Have you eaten? I can have something brought over from the main house."
"I'm okay," she said, though her eyes were wandering again, not rudely, but curiously, as if trying to piece together the man from the space around him.
Ren noticed and gave a soft chuckle. "You're looking around like you're in a museum."
She smiled faintly. "Well… I've only been to the main house before. This feels so different. I didn't know you lived here."
He hesitated for a beat, then gestured toward the hallway. "Come on, I'll show you around."
They walked through the open floor plan, past a small kitchen area, a study with floor-to-ceiling shelves and a compact gym that looked like it actually got used. The rooms were minimalist but full of traces of him: a pair of running shoes by the door, a half-finished book on his desk, a trophy or two tucked discreetly onto a shelf.
Noelle paused by the window that overlooked the courtyard. "This place feels… separate," she said softly. "Like it's not really part of the main house."
Ren leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets. "That's because it isn't, not exactly."
She turned to him, waiting. He smiled a little, the kind of smile that came before something personal. "My father built this entire compound. He wanted all of us to stay close, but still have our own space. Our privacy. So each of us has a house connected to the old one, like branches off the same tree."
Noelle blinked, surprised. "All of you? I didn't even know you had siblings."
Ren nodded, amused by her reaction. "Most people don't. I'm not exactly the talkative type when it comes to family."
"How many?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
He glanced out the window toward the neighboring wings. "There's my older sister... she's married now but still keeps her place here. Then a younger brother and two younger sisters. The girls stay together in one of the units but the rest of us have our own."
Noelle tried to picture it: each of them with a house like this, quiet and distinct but still connected to the colonial main house at the center. "That's… actually kind of nice," she said softly. "Like your own little village."
Ren chuckled under his breath. "That's one way to put it. My father called it his way of keeping the family close without giving us a reason to fight over the same bathroom."
She laughed, and the sound seemed to lighten the air between them.
Then, for a moment, neither of them said anything. Ren turned back toward her, the faintest trace of a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. "I'm really glad you came, Noelle," he said simply.
Something in his tone made her glance up. There was sincerity there, softened by fatigue but unmistakably genuine.
"I wasn't sure if I should," she admitted, half-smiling. "You sounded… busy."
"I was," he said, running a hand through his hair, "but having you here makes the day feel less endless."
Her heart gave a small, involuntary flutter at that.
Ren motioned toward the hallway again. "Come on. There's one more room you should see."
They walked down a short corridor lined with framed photographs, landscapes, mostly: mountain trails, misty lakes, the kind of places that made her wonder if he ever went there to get away from everything.
He stopped before a wide door and pushed it open.
Noelle froze for a second at the threshold.
The bedroom was enormous, larger than her entire apartment, easily. A wall of glass looked out over the trees, where the fading sunlight poured through like gold silk. The furniture was understated but rich in detail: dark wood, soft gray linens, and a long, low bench at the foot of a bed big enough to lose herself in. The bed faced the window, so that mornings would begin with light and the whisper of leaves.
Behind the bed, the space curved gently away, forming a quiet alcove that led to the ensuite. The layout was deliberate, the angles of the walls blocking any direct view from the bedroom. Beyond the bath and shower, the Poliform walk-in wardrobe waited, private and luxurious, lined with soft lighting and the faint scent of cedar. It was the kind of thoughtful design that let someone step from water to clothing without ever crossing back into the open room until they were ready.
Near the window, an armchair and a low table caught the last of the evening light, a half-read book resting beside a glass of water as if she had only stepped away for a moment.
She turned slowly, taking it all in. "You call this a room? It's practically a palace."
Ren laughed quietly behind her. "I like having space."
She glanced over her shoulder, amused. "You think?"
He stepped closer, his voice lowering just slightly, a little teasing. "The best part," he said, "is that no one ever comes over here to bother me."
Noelle raised a brow, sensing the tease. "No one?"
"No one," he said again, that half-smile returning. "I told you — privacy has its perks."
She folded her arms, pretending not to notice how close he was now. "And I suppose that's why you invited me over, then?"
Ren met her gaze, steady, unhurried. "Maybe," he said quietly. "Maybe I just wanted someone to share the privacy with."
The room fell still for a moment as Ren's gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat longer before he exhaled softly, breaking the silence with a faint grin. "Alright," he said, "before I say something that'll make you think I'm flirting too much on an empty stomach—"