The study was alive with the familiar bickering of Joseph and Anna. August's parents.
"You're far too calm, Joseph! That boy doesn't want help, but someone tried to attack him!" Anna snapped, hands on her hips, pacing.
"He can handle it, Anna," Joseph replied evenly, leaning against the desk, arms crossed.
"I know he can handle himself, but I'm telling you, he's my son! And don't roll your eyes at me!" she shot back, glaring, daring him to contradict.
Joseph shook his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "You are impossible. I love that fire of yours."
"You're hopeless," she jabbed him, smacking his chest lightly.
Just then, Malcolm appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow. "You two, get a room already," he said dryly, smirking.
Anna spun on him, pointing a finger. "And you, young man, get a girlfriend! Life isn't going to wait for you to grow up!"
Malcolm rolled his eyes, sinking into a chair. "Thanks, Mom. Very helpful," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.
Anna laughed, shaking her head, and clicked away down the hallway, leaving father and son in the quiet study.
Joseph leaned back in his chair, expression turning serious. "Enough about that. Let's focus. The restaurant attack… it wasn't random. Someone sent a message, and we need to find out who."
Malcolm straightened, attention sharpening. "I know. My informants caught one of the guys. He confessed, but he wouldn't say who sent him."
Joseph's frown deepened, his voice calm but firm. "Figures. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. He doesn't want our help, and we won't force it, but we need to make sure the money keeps flowing strategically until we trace it back. Protect the assets, cover the business. Whoever tried to threaten him… they're going to regret it."
Malcolm nodded. "Understood. And we make sure nothing escalates while we investigate?"
Joseph's gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "Exactly. Watch closely, stay alert. Whoever tried this, there's a trail, and we'll follow it. Keep him safe. And Malcolm…" he added quietly, "he may not say it, but we know he counts on us in his own way."
Malcolm's jaw tightened. "I won't fail him."
Joseph gave a faint smile, leaning back. "I know you won't. Now, let's start working. The people who did this—they'll pay."
Later, Malcolm stepped out of his sleek car. In his hand was a leather suitcase, heavy with bills, enough to make anyone pause before opening it.
The garage was quiet, save for the hum of a single overhead light. At the far end, a tall man in uniform waited, his posture precise but his eyes sharp, calculating.
"You're late," the chief said, voice low, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Malcolm didn't flinch. He set the suitcase on the hood of the car, clicked it open, and let the bills slide out neatly. "This is for your best men on my brother's case," he said firmly. "I need answers. My brother's safety isn't negotiable."
The chief's eyes flicked over the cash, lingering a beat too long. He leaned closer, voice casual, almost friendly. "Impressive," he said. "Generous, even." He let a pause hang in the air. "Of course… you understand that high-priority cases require… sustained attention. Resources. You know how it is."
Malcolm's jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. "I'm aware. This is a start. I expect results, not excuses."
The chief's smirk widened, his fingers brushing a few bills absentmindedly. "Naturally. We'll do our best, Mr. Creed. But, well…" He tilted his head, letting the implication hang like smoke in the dim light. "Cases like this… they tend to need ongoing support. You understand."
Malcolm's eyes narrowed. "Understood," he said quietly, voice cutting through the tension. "I'll provide what's necessary. Just make sure it's worth it. No mistakes. My brother's life isn't a bargaining chip."
The chief nodded, carefully neutral, hiding a glint of greed. "Of course, Mr. Creed. We'll get to the bottom of it. Consider it… priority."
Malcolm closed the suitcase with a firm click and gave the chief one last sharp look before stepping back toward his car. "Good. I expect updates. Frequent updates."
The chief's smile lingered long after Malcolm drove off, counting the bills slowly, already plotting the ways he could extract more without raising alarm.
***
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, painting the room in warm, golden hues. August stirred, blinking against the sunlight, only to find Celine snuggled against him, her red hair spilling across his chest and face.
He didn't move. He simply watched her sleep, mesmerized by the rise and fall of her chest, the faint sound of her quiet, even snoring. Her lips were slightly parted in an unladylike way, and a small frown creased her forehead.
August's finger instinctively reached out, gently tracing the line of her brow. She twitched slightly but didn't wake.
A soft yawn escaped him, and the touch seemed to stir her. Celine blinked awake, her green eyes wide and embarrassed as she realized she'd been sleeping pressed against him.
"Did I… snore loudly?" she asked in a small, anxious voice, her cheeks flushing a deep pink.
August's lips curved into a soft, amused smile. "I like it. It suits you," he murmured, his finger brushing against her temple again.
Celine's blush deepened as she pressed closer, hiding her face against his chest. "You're impossible," she whispered, but the warmth in her eyes betrayed her.
August chuckled softly, tucking her closer. "I could watch you sleep forever," he said, a playful sparkle in his gaze.
Celine froze mid-stretch, her eyes landing on a small, wet spot on August's crisp white shirt. Her mouth fell open. She had… drooled on him.
August noticed her staring, his lips twitching into a soft smile. He raised a hand, waving it off casually. "It's okay," he said, his voice gentle.
Her face turned crimson almost instantly, heat rising from her cheeks to her ears. Without thinking, she jumped off the bed, muttering the first thing that came to her mind. "I'll cook!"
August let out a chuckle, amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned back against the headboard. "You can't cook," he teased, shaking his head.
"I do," she shot back, still flustered, though the confidence in her voice didn't fully mask her embarrassment.
She bolted from the room, hair wild and cheeks burning. My mother would be so disappointed if she saw me like this, Celine thought, the memory of her mother's scoldings about being "unladylike" flashing in her mind.
Now standing in front of the stove, robe slightly askew, she stared at the ingredients in front of her. Her hands trembled slightly as she muttered under her breath, cursing herself. I have no idea how to do this… how does anyone even cook?
The kitchen smelled faintly of butter and oil from previous uses, but she had no idea where to start. Her thoughts tumbled over themselves in panic, though deep down she couldn't help smiling at the memory of August's soft chuckle and teasing eyes.
Thirty minutes later, Celine was still staring at the cooker, sweat beading at her temples. She had tried to turn it on, but to no avail. Her glare could have killed, it felt like if looks were weapons, the stove would already be six feet under.
August entered, taking in the scene, and laughter burst from him as he doubled over, holding his stomach.
"Celine…" he gasped between chuckles.
Celine feigned a frown but couldn't hide the warmth rising in her chest. After yesterday's drama, seeing him laugh made her happy; she wanted him to loosen up.
"I can't seem to light this, girl," she muttered, exasperated.
He nodded, still smiling, and strolled toward her. His Singleton sportswear clung in all the right places, hardly hiding the curve of his biceps. Celine couldn't help but glance, then felt herself caught. He chuckled at her.
His hands wrapped around her waist, and Celine closed her eyes, bracing for a kiss, but he simply shifted her gently away from the stove and flipped a switch.
"See?" August said, his voice teasing, low and amused. "It's electric. There's an on switch, you have to press it."
Celine opened her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. "I… got it," she muttered, a mix of embarrassment and relief in her voice.
August smiled knowingly to himself before heading over to a chair, settling in to watch her attempt breakfast.
Celine finally managed to put a pan on the stove. She grabbed what she thought was oil, tipping it over, almost emptying the bottle.
"Wait—no, that's—!" she started too late, as the thick liquid slipped from her fingers.
As she chopped vegetables, her elbow caught the bottle. Oil splashed across the counter, some even landing on the floor. She jumped back with a sharp, panicked cry.
"Jesus!" she yelped, eyes wide, cheeks blazing red.
August, still seated, let out a deep laugh, clutching his stomach. "Relax," he said between chuckles, though his gaze was warm. "You're doing fine… mostly."
Celine glared at him, muttering under her breath, "Mostly my ass…" But a small smile tugged at her lips despite the mess.
Celine scrambled to clean up the spilled oil, grabbing a towel and muttering curses under her breath. Her hair had fallen into her face, strands sticking slightly with sweat, and she swiped them back impatiently.
August leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, still smirking. "You're making it… memorable," he teased, his voice low and amused.
"Memorable?" Celine snapped, waving the towel at him. "It's a disaster!"
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Disaster or not, I like watching you try."
Her cheeks flamed, and she dropped the towel with a huff. "I can't believe you're just sitting there!"
August's grin widened as he pushed off the chair, stepping closer. "I'm helping. Mentally," he said, fingers brushing a stray strand of red hair from her face.
She flinched, still flustered, and muttered, "Mentally isn't very helpful when oil is everywhere and I don't even know what I'm doing."
"Maybe not," he admitted, his voice softening, "but you've got the pan on. That's a start. That counts."
Celine took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but the warmth of his presence made her pulse quicken. She glanced up at him, caught in that teasing gaze, and couldn't help the small, reluctant smile creeping onto her lips.
August leaned just a little closer, lowering his voice. "You know… even if you burn it, I'll eat it. Just because it's you."
Her heart skipped, and she felt a mix of embarrassment and warmth flood her at the words. She nodded quickly, muttering, "Okay… okay, I'll try again."
And with that, she grabbed the pan, adjusting her grip, determined to get it right this time. August sank back into his chair, grinning, prepared to watch, and maybe tease, every clumsy, adorable step of the way.
After a few tense minutes of fumbling with the pan and muttered curses, Celine finally managed to steady her hands. She cracked an egg into the pan, carefully this time, watching it sizzle as the white began to firm and the yolk glistened.
"Okay… okay, maybe I've got this," she muttered to herself, pride and nerves mingling in her voice.
August, seated nearby, grinned softly. "See? You're getting there," he teased, eyes twinkling.
She shot him a sideways glare, though a tiny smile betrayed her. "Don't encourage me too much. I might think I'm competent," she said, still flustered.
She tapped the spatula against the edge, trying to flip the egg without breaking the yolk. The kitchen smelled faintly of butter and cooked egg, a simple, comforting aroma that made the morning feel warm and intimate.
August stood and drifted closer, hands brushing lightly over her shoulders. "Careful with that edge," he murmured, voice low, lips near her ear.
Celine's pulse skipped, and she leaned slightly into him, embarrassed. "I can do this myself!" she insisted, though her voice quivered a little.
"I know," he said, stepping back just enough to give her space, though his eyes remained fixed on her. "I just didn't want you to set off a smoke alarm… or spill another bottle of oil on me."
Finally, she slid the perfectly cooked egg onto a plate. The yolk was slightly runny, the edges golden, and she wiped her hands on her robe, cheeks flushed with triumph and lingering embarrassment.
August leaned over to inspect her work with mock seriousness, then broke into a wide grin. "Not bad… for someone who almost drowned me in oil earlier."
Celine huffed, trying not to laugh, warmth blooming in her chest at his teasing. "I did my best!"
He stepped closer, wrapping an arm gently around her waist. "And it's enough for me. Come on, let's eat before I start eating straight from the pan."
She laughed softly, letting him guide her to the small breakfast table.Celine carefully set the plate in front of August, eyes sparkling with pride. "Here! Take a bite," she said excitedly, almost bouncing in place.
He picked up his fork, cut a piece, and let it melt in his mouth. A soft hum escaped him. "Tasty… well done," he said, nodding appreciatively.
Celine's smile spread wide, lighting up her whole face. "Really?" she asked, almost disbelief lacing her tone.
"Absolutely," he said, eyes twinkling.
She reached for a piece herself, but before she could, he grabbed her hand gently. "Let me try," she insisted, leaning for a bite.
"Nope," he said firmly, grinning as he held her hand in place. "This is mine."
"Share!" she protested, laughing.
He shook his head, stuffing another forkful into his mouth. "Nope," he said between chews, eyes gleaming mischievously. By the time she realized it, he was nearly done with the egg.
He leaned back, rubbing his tummy with exaggerated satisfaction. "Perfect," he said, sighing contentedly. "Absolutely perfect."
Celine poured herself a cup of coffee, her cheeks still flushed with pride and amusement. She watched him take another bite, still praising her, and couldn't help but beam.
"You really like it, huh?" she asked softly, sipping her coffee.
"Like it? I love it," he said, eyes locking with hers. "And I'll be honest… I didn't think you could pull this off after yesterday's… chaos."
Celine laughed, a soft, genuine sound, feeling her chest warm at his praise. "Well, you doubted me," she teased, "but I proved you wrong."
August grinned, leaning closer. "You always prove me wrong, Celine… in the best way."