At the Fletchers' place.
I looked up into a pair of eyes that shimmered with a cold, distant light.
Skylar.
He hated me.
If it weren't for me, the one sitting in the Fletcher family's head seat today might have been him.
"Sorry." I set down my slipper and looked up at him. "Actually, I'm your sister-in-law."
"You and him are divorced now, aren't you?"
"Ex-sister-in-law still counts as sister-in-law."
I rummaged through the shoe cabinet but couldn't find a pair that fit me.
"Forget it, you can wear mine."
He placed the slippers at my feet. "They're new."
"Thanks." I bent down to take off my shoes.
"Why didn't he come with you?"
"My brother's busy with work, he'll be here later."
"Really?" He smiled slightly. "Busy with work, or busy with blind dates? Big Brother sure is popular."
"What do you mean by that?"
I switched shoes, almost losing my balance.
"The news of your divorce just broke, and today he's already on a blind date with the eldest daughter of the Buck family."
He reached out to steady me: "He really has no mercy for people he sees no value in."
I pushed him away. "Are you mocking me?"
"I'm just advising you."
He grabbed my wrist, "Don't have unrealistic fantasies about people you shouldn't be interested in."
The door opened.
Kendrick walked in, carrying his suit jacket.
When he saw me, there was a brief flash of surprise in his eyes.
It was as though the thing he least wanted to be exposed had suddenly appeared in broad daylight.
Skylar let go of my hand and called out quietly, "Hey, Kendrick."
Kendrick raised his eyebrows and responded lightly, then bent down to change his shoes.
While changing, his eyes flicked down to my feet, where I was wearing Skylar's slippers.
His expression was strange—stifled and gloomy, and he took a slow, deep breath.
Skylar glanced at me, then turned and walked into the living room.
Leaving me alone with Kendrick.
As soon as Skylar left, Kendrick abruptly grabbed me and hissed, "How dare you show up here?"
The red mark on his jaw hadn't healed.
Such a scar-prone physique—any small scratch seems impossible to heal.
"Why wouldn't I dare?" I answered with calm indifference.
The one who was panicked was him.
"By what right are you here?"
"You can go on blind dates, why can't I come here for a meal?"
Kendrick pondered for a moment, finally settling on this question, his voice turning low: "What's your relationship with Skylar?"
When he spoke, there was a rare flash of awkwardness and discomfort on his face.
Ah, now I understood.
He had made a huge misunderstanding.
This man, so self-disciplined, had woken up to realize that he had forcibly taken advantage of his brother's wife.
Tsk.
This was getting interesting. I stepped forward, pressing him: "What are you afraid of?"
He tilted his face up, his tone cold: "What is he to you?"
"Skylar is your subordinate, everyone knows that."
I deliberately added more fuel to the fire: "Isn't this exactly what you like? Making these little moves right in front of him."
He suddenly took a step back and bumped into the heavy door.
"What happened? Did you hit something?"
Skylar's mother hurried over at the sound.
"It's nothing."
He answered quickly, side-stepping and walking past me without even glancing at me.
He even made sure to avoid brushing against my clothes.
As if he was afraid to catch even the faintest trace of my scent.
I thought, I must still have some sense of revenge.
I couldn't accept how quickly he had distanced himself from this relationship.
So, I decided to punish him.
In the way he would find most unbearable.
At the dinner table, Kendrick had already composed himself, sitting calmly next to me.
His emotional control was always impeccable, especially in front of the Fletcher family—his true nature was hidden beneath a flawless mask.
Kendrick, without expression, picked up a piece of boiled shrimp.
"Hubby, I want shrimp."
I said this, not even looking at him but keeping my gaze fixed on Skylar sitting across from me.
It was clear that more than one person was startled.
Skylar met my gaze and coughed twice from the surprise.
Kendrick's chopsticks wobbled, causing the shrimp to fall into the middle of the table.
He never made such a simple mistake.
It was beneath his dignity.
"Don't you know how to peel it yourself?" Skylar shot back coldly.
He might have said it casually, but as soon as the words left his mouth, Kendrick misunderstood.
The tension in his eyes flickered toward Skylar.
"Skylar, what's with the tone?" Skylar's mother tried to smooth things over, casually adding, "Kendrick, peel the shrimp for Eleanor."
"Why should I peel it for her?"
Kendrick reacted like he had been caught off guard, eager to distance himself from the situation. "Skylar, just do it."
"What does it have to do with me?" Skylar frowned, then paused, his eyes shifting toward me.
He was sharp. He sensed something was off between Kendrick and me and raised an eyebrow at me.
Then, he slowly raised his hand, peeled the shrimp with deliberate slowness, and carefully watched the subtle shifts between me and Kendrick.
Once the shrimp was peeled, he dipped it in the fragrant soy sauce and placed it in front of me.
"Is it good?"
The question was directed at me, but his eyes were fixed on Kendrick.
Kendrick appeared utterly indifferent.
"It's good," I responded politely. "You should have more, too."
"Who should have more?"
Skylar raised his fox tail, insistent on getting to the bottom of things.
I forced a smile at the corner of my lips, slightly turning my head, and said to Kendrick, "Honey, you should eat more too."
That term of endearment made the people around us jump like startled cats, scrambling out of their chairs in confusion.
It was a rare slip from the usually composed Kendrick.
Everyone at the table turned their gaze toward him.
"What's wrong, bro?" Skylar asked. "Why does your face look so bad?"
"I'm fine."
"Do you want to eat shrimp, too?"
"No." His eyes grew colder, rejecting three times in a row. "I hate shrimp with shells on."
A sound came from the foyer.
Reece Fletcher had returned.
He merely glanced toward the dining room before signaling Kendrick to head upstairs to the study.
It was time for a private conversation.
The two of them walked up the stairs one after the other, leaving behind a drop in atmospheric pressure.
After dinner, in the living room on the couch.
"This is about the marriage talks between the families."
Skylar rested his hand on the back of my chair, speaking in a voice low enough for only the two of us to hear.
I flipped through a magazine. "Why don't you help find someone too? Just because you don't have a 'throne' to inherit?"
In the kitchen, the conversation between Skylar's mother and the housekeeper,Lydia, could be heard in fragments.
"I told you to change into the new slippers this afternoon, didn't I?"
"I did, I brought out a new pair. Didn't you see?"Lydia wiped her hands and walked toward the foyer. "This is strange."
I lowered my gaze to the slippers at my feet—Skylar's.
My eyes then shifted upward, meeting the reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window.
Skylar, standing behind me, was also looking at me through the reflection.
Too close.
He had crossed the line without me realizing, his intentions too obvious.
"Why can my brother do it, but I can't?"
"What did you say?"
I turned my head, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall figure by the stairs.
When did he get here?
Kendrick, wearing a black silk shirt, walked over to Skylar and patted his shoulder with a smile. "Let's go, drive me."
The sudden display of brotherly affection froze Skylar for a moment. He instinctively looked toward the closed study upstairs.
"Why are you leaving already?"
Skylar's mother hurried out.
"Work matters."
"Ah, work is important. What's Skylar hesitating for? Go see your brother off."
She handed Kendrick his coat. "This child still needs to practice his awareness."
"It's fine."
Kendrick smiled and turned to Skylar and me. "In terms of work, he's my subordinate. He'll learn soon enough what's appropriate and what's not."
