Briella tiptoed up to the second floor and glanced at her phone—ten o’clock.
She eased open the doors to her children’s rooms one by one. Both were already fast asleep.
She let out a quiet sigh of relief and slipped back to her own room.
From her pocket, she drew out a black card and laid it on the table. Leaning closer, she studied the silver script embossed across its surface:
Dutton Mortensen — Chairman of the Mortensen Group.
Tonight’s sudden appearance of those two had disrupted her original plans. Dutton and the elderly man clearly hadn’t come for the gala alone.
Their attire had been too formal, too polished. They must ha
Early that morning, Briella arrived at the Mortensen family estate, black invitation card in hand.She took a long look at the legendary residence, nodding in quiet approval.No wonder they’re the top among the noble families.Unhurried, she stepped up to the grand, antiquated gates.Presenting the card, she watched as the guard inspected it with great care. Once verified, he returned it respectfully with both hands.“This way, Miss. Please wait in the banquet hall. Someone will inform the masters.”Briella nodded without a word and followed the guard through a side path that led to the grand hall.Once alone, she chose a sofa and sat down casually.Before long, a servant approached with a gentle bow. “May I offer you something to drink, Miss?”“I’m not picky. Just bring me any floral tea you prefer,” she replied with effortless poise.The servant nodded and
“Koa… Koa, it’s Mommy. What’s wrong, sweetheart? Can you open your eyes and tell Mommy where it hurts?”Briella pressed a gentle palm to his forehead.Burning hot.Her heart skipped a beat.Panic flared inside her as she reached down to feel his wrist, checking his pulse with practiced fingers.Moa stood beside her, wide-eyed and worried.She could sense it—this wasn’t an ordinary fever. Something deeper was wrong.“Mommy… what’s wrong with Koa?” Moa’s voice was soft, her eyes brimming with concern.Briella turned to her with a mother’s instinct, cupping her small face.“Do you feel sick, baby? If anything hurts, you must tell Mommy, okay?”“I’m fine,” Moa said, voice low. “Just a little dizzy earlier… but I feel okay now.”She gently moved Briella’s hand off her forehead an
Diego withdrew his hand nonchalantly and sat back down.Even from a lower position, his aura remained undiminished—if anything, it seemed even more imposing.“It’s fine. You can change bit by bit, as long as you stay by my side.”His thin lips pressed lightly together, his gaze unusually deep. One hand rested on the desk as he studied her steadily.Briella’s pupils dilated slightly, as if she couldn’t quite comprehend his words.Her voice wavered. “Minister… what do you mean by that?”“What do I mean? Just the literal meaning. I need a woman.”He said it flatly, without the slightest ripple of emot
“You two rest well tomorrow. I’ll see you the day after.”Briella waved at the car with a serene smile.Alan stuck his head out the window, a grin tugging at his boyish face.“Okay, Skye… Bye!”The car rolled away, his gaze lingering on her figure until it disappeared.Only then did he sink back into his seat, the warm smile fading as that quiet, aloof air returned.“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Princess Winona broke the silence, trying for casual conversation.But Alan, for once, grew stubborn.“Whatever.”Winona slowly tu
“Alright, alright! No need to be so fierce about it…”Alan muttered, frustrated when Briella said nothing and made no move to help him with the luggage.Just as his hand touched the suitcase handle—“Brother Alan! Princess Winona! You’re here! Did you miss me and my brother?”Moa dropped her tablet and ran straight to the door, her little face beaming at the two visitors.Koa followed behind at a slower pace, twisting a freshly solved Rubik’s cube in his hand.“Of course we missed you,” Alan grinned, crouching down to their level. “And your big brother brought gifts! They’re all in the suitcase. I’ll hand them over once we
Briella tiptoed up to the second floor and glanced at her phone—ten o’clock.She eased open the doors to her children’s rooms one by one. Both were already fast asleep.She let out a quiet sigh of relief and slipped back to her own room.From her pocket, she drew out a black card and laid it on the table. Leaning closer, she studied the silver script embossed across its surface:Dutton Mortensen — Chairman of the Mortensen Group.Tonight’s sudden appearance of those two had disrupted her original plans. Dutton and the elderly man clearly hadn’t come for the gala alone.Their attire had been too formal, too polished. They must ha