ADAM I woke up in an unfamiliar hotel bedroom, my skull throbbing as I tried to collect my thoughts from an awful night. I must’ve gotten drunk and ended up here. My head was just too occupied with Eloise and the Jacksons, and I needed to get away from those distractions. Lying next to me was a redhead, her skin as pale as paper and her wavy hair on my bed. However, it wasn’t the same redhead I preferred to wake up next to. My mind instantly drifted to Eloise, the woman who had been messing with my thoughts lately. The woman beside me was Michelle, a woman I’d already fucked from the past. “Hey…” I nudged her shoulder. She groaned and blinked her brown eyes. “Adam.” “We need to go. Get up.” She lazily pulled herself up, and the blanket slipped, revealing her breasts. I quickly averted my gaze, feeling a strange discomfort. Though Michelle was undeniably attractive, my interest just wasn’t in it. My head kept circling back to Eloise, and I even imagined her last night beneath me

ELOISE Nina led me to the right wing into a ridiculously spacious bedroom decorated with peonies. Sunlight streamed through two tall windows with swaying white curtains. Two baby pink sofas and a center table were placed nearby with sweet snacks on top. I could easily imagine waking up here with coffee or a book. In the center of the room stood a four-poster queen-sized bed with intricately carved wooden posts that stretched up to the ceiling. The mattress was covered with fresh white sheets that looked so comfy, almost making me forget how unwelcome I felt in this house. Across from the bed, a vanity furnished with delicate feminine decorations matched the room’s aesthetic. A private bathroom was conveniently located nearby, giving off the same cozy vibe as the bedroom. As I took in the room’s details, Nina spoke with warmth. She stood beside me. “I hope you like it. I asked the maids to make it comfortable and minimalist. I was thinking you might feel overwhelmed.” “That’s very

ELOISE My meals were delivered to my bedroom for the rest of the day. Honestly, this way was much better because I had no interest in dining with my father or Davina. It felt kind of lonely whenever I contemplated if this was their everyday life in the mansion. Probably because Malcolm had just passed away, the silence was painfully pronounced. I suppose my actual hellish day starts tomorrow. I checked my phone again before bed. I had messages from my work emails that needed responses, but I figured I could ask Trina to handle those. Fortunately, she was there as my counterpart. Jenna had messaged me this morning to ask how it was going, and there was also an unanswered message from Adam. He hadn’t messaged since. Rolling onto my side in bed, I wondered what I could reply to him, constantly composing and deleting messages. “I’m busy…” I deleted the text. “Just say it here.” I deleted the text again. “You can just call me…” Damn it. I deleted my message again but accidentall

ELOISE When we returned to the mansion, Nina read my schedule in her notes as we selected my evening dress. It felt incredibly tiring to change repeatedly on various occasions in a day. “You’ve got a dress rehearsal with the personal tailor tonight, Mrs. Laurent. Lord Cunningham’s birthday dinner is already on Friday, so we’re tight on time for a custom dress. Instead, you’ll try out her new designs, which she’ll adjust to your size. She’s waiting for you in the drawing room. I’ll give you some basic table manners lessons tomorrow morning during breakfast. “After that, I’ll take you to the hairdresser, shopping, and the spa. You’ll have some free time in the evening, but since Lord Cunningham wants you to meet the baron, I’ll keep you engaged to avoid him. That might also help us postpone meeting him until we’re more prepared. Your father still expects you to attend at least one dinner with him.” I clenched my teeth. “Fine. What else?” “Around afternoon tomorrow, you’ll officiall

ELOISE The next morning, we started our activity following our schedule. Nina and I were sitting close to a long, extravagant dining table, surrounded by the family’s shiny and overwhelming wealth. Right in front of us was a neat arrangement of plates, bowls in different shapes, and silverware, all decked out with elegant table mats, candlelight, and floral centerpieces. Our goal for today was to navigate the traditional Scottish dining etiquette, where each utensil had a purpose. “Let’s get into it step by step,” Nina said confidently, squaring her shoulders. “The utensils here have their own roles.” Her movements directed my attention to the organized utensils. “This,” she pointed at the spoon with a deep, round head, “is a soup spoon. Obviously, it is used for consuming soups and broths. Next up, the salad fork,” she explained, focusing on the fork with slightly shorter tines. They also used this for appetizers.” “So fussy,” I murmured. “And then?” She moved to a knife wit