"At least throw this on? Open, if you like. Are you OK?"A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face. He took the shirt, slipping it on but leaving it completely unbuttoned, the singlet and shorts still fully visible, the shirt just framing him. "I'm okay, Boss," he winked.Walking downstairs felt like stepping onto a stage. The air in the grand hallway seemed cooler, charged with unspoken awareness. The rich scent of coffee and bacon intensified as we approached the sunlit breakfast table adjacent to the kitchen by the large window overlooking the gardens. The chef stood near the sideboard, arranging silver domes over plates. He turned as we entered, his gaze professional, sweeping from me to Reuben. His eyes registered the singlet, the open shirt, the bare legs, the sheer informality of Reuben beside my usual morning attire. There was the briefest pause, a micro-expression too fast to decipher, before his usual impeccable composure settled."Good morning, Bosses," he greeted,
Last Updated : 2025-07-07 Read more