Chapter <b>417 </b>
Back at home for quite some time, Mirabe was tasting the bitter vor of being ostracized by her father, her mother, and her brother for the first time. She sat at the dinner table, mindlessly pushing food around her te with a fork, asionally casting a sidelong nce at Donald, who sat next to her. She just couldn’t fathom what kind of sweet talker Donald was, to have hoodwinked them all into doubting her word.
After ackluster dinner, Mirabe was all set to retreat to her room when Delh insisted she stick around to keep Donaldpany. Reluctantly, she stayed put in the living room, not making any effort to strike up a conversation, and instead pulled out her phone for some solitary entertainment.
Shawn, witnessing his daughter’s aloof disposition, couldn’t help but shake his head in distress. He took a seat beside Donald and struck up a small talk, “Do you enjoy a good cup of coffee?”
As a man who wouldn’t end his meal without a cup of coffee, Shawn was naturally expecting to continue his ritual today.
At the mention of coffee, Donald’s eyes lit up. “That’s one of my few indulgences,” he admitted with a nod.
Encouraged by thismon ground, Shawn stood up and said, “Give me a moment. I’ll fetch the coffee set.”
Donald had been away from home for two days without thefort of his cofee ritual and was feeling rather out of sorts.
Mirabe, clutching her phone, spared a nce at Shawn and Donald, shook her head in dismay, and turned away from them, diving back into the digital world on her screen.
Shawn headed to the temperature–controlled pantry where his precious coffee collection awaited. His eyes scanned the array of prized leaves before settling on a box of Blue Mountain coffee. He hesitated for a brief <b>moment</b>, then grabbed the coffee and a pot, exiting the pantry with a purpose. Donald was a special guest and deserved the best.
Soon, Shawn returned to the living room, cradling aplete set of coffeeware along with the coffee. Donald’s gaze fell upon the y pot in Shawn’s hands, betraying a flicker of surprise.
A vintage coffeepot like this could fetch tens of thousands of dors. Donald tapped his fingers slowly on his knee, lost in thought.
“What kind of coffee do you usually prefer?<b>” </b>Shawn asked while heating <b>the </b>water.
“I’m not picky.” Donald replied with a smile. Despite being well into his eighties, hisplexion was rosy, and his wrinkles weren’t as profound as one might expect, <b>giving </b>him a lively appearance.
Chapter
“I’ve recently acquired a box of vintage Blue Mountain. Today’s a fine day to share it Shawn said, reaching for the tin box beside him.
Hearing this, Donald perked up. “Well, it seems I’m in for a treat today.”
His attention finally settled on the coffee box in Shawn’s hands, recognizing the all–too–familiar container. Donald was taken aback. Could it be the same as the one he had treasured for many years<b>? </b>
He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things, but when he looked again, there it was<b>, </b>the distinctive box he knew so well.
After acquiring a batch of Blue Mountain coffee beans, he had a special airtight container made to preserve it long–term. He was convinced that his batch was one of a kind with no duplicates out there.
So… could this coffee be from his storage?
His mind was racing with confusion as Shawn proceeded to brew the coffee, pouring the first cup
for Donald. As the rich aroma of the aged Blue Mountain filled the air, Shau invited, “Donald, please, have a taste.”
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