Lunch

Mr. Fox entered the living room slowly, Jessica sat gracefully on the cream-colored couch, one leg crossed over the other, flipping through a magazine she wasn’t actually reading.

“Ah, Jessica,” Mr. Fox said warmly, his deep voice filling the quiet room. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. You know how business calls can be.”

Jessica looked up, offering him a polite smile. “It’s alright, sir. I understand you’re a busy man.”

He gestured toward the side table. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Wine? Maybe some of the chef’s lemon pie?”

Jessica shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m here for business”

Mr. Fox chuckled as he settled into the seat across from her. “Still as sharp as ever, I see. That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Jessica. You're smart and determined.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Then I’ll get straight to the point. The lunch plan didn’t work. Kris looked… almost disgusted when he saw me.”

Mr. Fox smiled faintly, his fingers steepled together. “Disgusted? Oh, Jessica, my dear, even I understand how confused my son is right now. I mean, seeing you again after all these years, it must have brought up a lot of old feelings. Don’t mistake his shock for rejection.”

Jessica laughed softly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Shock? Please. That man barely looked at me. If anything, he looked like he wanted to throw me out of the mansion.”

Mr. Fox leaned forward, his tone calm but firm. “You’re being too impatient. Kris has always been… stubborn. But believe me, beneath all that anger, he still feels something for you. That much I’m sure of.”

Jessica crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Well, it’s only a matter of time before he files for divorce anyway. You and I both know that once he does, everything changes. If we want to do something, it has to be now.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes darkened. “He won’t file for divorce.”

Jessica tilted her head. “And what makes you so sure?”

“Because he’s still my son,” Mr. Fox said coldly. “And I know him better than anyone. Kris may think he’s in control, but he’s not. That woman—” his lip curled in distaste “that poor commoner, Amelia, has him under some kind of spell. He’s blinded by her, but not for long.”

Jessica smirked, running a manicured finger along the rim of her glass. “You really think she has some hold on him?”

Mr. Fox gave a low, humorless laugh. “It’s the only explanation. My son, a Fox, wanting to marry a nobody? It’s absurd. Amelia doesn’t even belong in our world.”

Jessica’s smirk faded slightly, her tone turning serious. “And what happens if he goes through with it anyway? If he actually marries her, what then? I refuse to be a second wife, Mr. Fox. I want my rightful claim, the life that comes with being his wife.”

Mr. Fox’s expression softened slightly. “You’ll have it, Jessica. I promise. You were always meant to be part of this family. You just need to trust me.”

She raised a brow. “And how exactly do you plan to stop him?”

He smiled, a calm yet dangerous smile. “Leave that to me. Kris just needs a push in the right direction. Once he realizes the kind of woman he’s dealing with, he’ll come back to his senses. I’ve worked too hard building him into the man he is. I’ll be damned if some worthless girl ruins everything.”

Jessica leaned back, satisfaction glinting in her eyes. “Then I suppose I should leave it in your capable hands.”

Mr. Fox nodded, his gaze distant. “Good. Because soon enough, Amelia will be out of the picture, permanently.”

******

Meanwhile, across town, Amelia sat at her desk in the Daily Gossip office, typing away furiously. She had promised herself she wouldn’t think about Kris, but it was nearly impossible when she could feel his eyes on her every few minutes.

She sighed, shifting uncomfortably. Does he really have to watch me like that all day?

Each time she glanced up, she caught him pretending to be busy, flipping through a file, making a phone call, adjusting his tie. But she knew he'd been watching her.

It made her skin prickle.

Maybe he’s just checking on everyone, she told herself. You’re just being paranoid, Amelia. Relax.

But even she didn’t believe that.

When lunch break came, Amelia opened her bag to grab her food, only to realize it wasn’t there. She blinked. “Oh, come on…” She rummaged through every pocket. Empty.

Her stomach growled.

“Great. Just great.” She slumped against her chair, groaning softly. “Guess I’ll be surviving on coffee today.”

Just then, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Or you could survive on actual food.”

Amelia turned quickly, and froze as Ryan leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Her eyes widened. “Ryan! What are you doing here?”

He grinned, holding up a small food container. “Bringing you lunch, apparently. You left it on the counter this morning. I went by your house to pick you up, but Mel said you’d already left.”

Amelia flushed slightly. “You shouldn’t have. This is a workplace, you can’t just walk in here and—”

“Oh, come on,” Ryan teased, setting the container on her desk. “I’ll sit quietly, I promise. Just a quick lunch, and I’m gone.”

“Ryan…” she sighed, looking around nervously. “You really shouldn’t be here. My boss—”

“Doesn’t have to know,” he said with a wink, pulling out a chair beside her.

Amelia bit her lip but eventually smiled in defeat. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Admit it, you missed me.”

“I missed my lunch,” she shot back, opening the container. The smell instantly made her stomach growl again. “But I guess you’ll do.”

They both laughed softly. The atmosphere between them was pleasant. Amelia hadn’t realized how much she needed a moment like this.

Ryan watched her with a soft smile. “You’ve been working too hard, Amelia. You need to slow down sometimes.”

“Can’t,” she said, chewing. “Bills, responsibilities, single motherhood. You know, the usual.”

He nodded, watching her quietly. “Still, you deserve a break once in a while.”

Amelia smiled faintly. “Maybe someday.”

Upstairs, Kris stood by the glass railing, looking down at the lunch area. His jaw tightened when he saw Ryan sitting beside Amelia, laughing with her, eating with her, touching her arm casually.

He clenched his pen so tightly that it cracked in half.

One of the staff, a young assistant, happened to walk past at that moment.

“You there,” Kris said sharply.

The man stopped immediately. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re a journalist, aren’t you?”

The assistant blinked. “Uh, no sir. I’m just an intern in the marketing—”

“Not anymore,” Kris interrupted, his tone like ice. “Congratulations, you’re now a journalist. Your first assignment…” he pointed toward the lunchroom “find out everything you can about that man sitting with that lady.”

The assistant followed his gaze nervously. “You mean the one with Miss Amelia?”

“Yes,” Kris said, his voice calm but dangerous. “I need his name, job, everything. I want it by tomorrow morning.”