Chapter 6

Elle's POV

Raymond and I were halfway through dressing when he spoke up casually, brushing lint off my sleeve.

"How about we get breakfast before work today?" he asked.

I raised a brow at him. "Were we supposed to leave without having breakfast?"

He let out a chuckle. "No, I don't mean breakfast as usual. I meant for us to go outside and have something to eat. Like a date."

I blinked at him, unsure if I heard him right. "Breakfast? Outside?"

"Yeah. There's a little place I used to go to. Been thinking about it all week," he said, his lips tipping into that devilishly charming smile.

I glanced at the wall clock in the room. "Raymond, I have to get to the office early today. I have a report due and—"

He pulled me closer by the waist, eyes twinkling as he locked them with mine. "You’re married to the CEO, Princess. Do I have to keep reminding you? Besides, I promise, no one will care if you're late."

I sighed. “They’ll talk. You know they have already been talking.”

He grabbed my shoulders, before rubbing his palms up and down my arms. “Let them. I want time with my wife.”

I felt heat creep onto my cheeks. I didn't need to look in the mirror to see that they were red.

"So, what do you say?" he asked.

I let out a sigh as I nodded. I hoped it would help me get over the whole past thing.

Besides, he said he wanted to spend more time with his wife. When he put it like that, how could I refuse?

We finished getting dressing up. Raymond helped me with my necklace, his fingers brushing the back of my neck with a tenderness that sent a small shiver down my spine.

Once ready, we made our way downstairs. Two maids paused from their duties and gave a respectful bow.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson," one of them greeted with a smile.

Raymond nodded at them with a grin. "Good morning. We're heading out for breakfast."

Their eyes widened slightly, but they masked their surprise with polite smiles. "Very good, sir. The car is ready out front."

I felt a little embarrassed at their reaction. Raymond was always fond of showering me with love in front of the workers at the Jefferson Mansion. It was obvious he loved me, and he did not attempt to hide it.

He took my hand again, lacing our fingers naturally as we stepped out through the double doors.

A sleek black car waited in the driveway, its engine humming softly. The chauffeur opened the rear passenger door, but Raymond shook his head.

"I’ll drive," he said with a wink, walking over to the driver's side.

I slid into the passenger seat, smoothing my skirt. Raymond reached over to tap my knee affectionately before driving off.

***

The Café Raymond took me to was tucked into a quiet corner of the city—a charming little place with ivy-covered walls and the scent of baked bread drifting from the kitchen.

We had sat in a private booth by the window. I watched silently as he buttered my toast and poured my coffee.

The whole scene was just... perfect. Too perfect.

But work at the office wasn't. It wasn't the usual.

It wasn't like my work was fun, but I loved getting tasks done. But today was different.

I sat at my desk, eyes on the screen, but my thoughts were miles away. I kept seeing Raymond's face and kept hearing his voice as he whispered the name, Nuelle.

I had tried to forget it, to let it go. But I couldn't. It was like I was getting haunted again.

And I needed to be sure about what Raymond knew.

By the time I got home that evening, I had already decided—I needed answers.

Raymond wasn’t back yet, which worked perfectly in my favor. I kicked off my heels and changed into something more comfortable before heading toward the servants’ quarters.

If Raymond wouldn’t tell me the truth, then maybe someone else would.

Mr. Elias, the butler, was the first on my list. He had been with Raymond the longest—or so he claimed.

It's not like I knew much about these rich families. But from what I always saw in movies, the Old Butlers in the mansions had always been around since the heirs were kids.

That would mean, Mr. Elias would know a lot about Raymond.

I was about to round a corner when I caught sight of him.

“Mr. Elias,” I called, meeting him in the hallway. “Can I have a moment?”

“Of course, ma’am,” he said with a courteous bow.

We moved to the kitchen, and I sat at the counter while he stood with his hands folded respectfully.

“I want to know, how long have you known Raymond?” I asked, keeping my voice light and casual.

I didn't want to spark any suspicion.

“Almost seven years now," He replied. "I started working for him shortly after he inherited his first business.”

My eyes widened in shock. That wasn't even up to a decade. Still, I continued.

“Do you know where he’s from? His hometown?” I asked casually again.

Mr. Elias hesitated, just for a second. But I saw it.

“I’m afraid I don’t, ma’am. Master Jefferson is a private man. He doesn’t talk much about his early life.”

That wasn't weird. But I still felt like it was off.

“You’ve never seen pictures? Heard stories?” I continued.

He smiled politely. “Only of his accomplishments. Business trips, awards, and company anniversaries.”

That was it from him.

“Alright. Thank you, Mr. Elias,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face.

An hour passed, and I’d spoken to every senior staff member I could find. From the Drivers, Gardeners, and even the Chef.

None of them knew where Raymond came from. They knew his food preferences, his business achievements, his favorite color, and how he liked his shirts pressed—but not a single person could tell me a thing about his past.

It was like he had emerged fully formed and out of nowhere.

And that scared me more than I was willing to admit.