<b>Chapter </b>444
<b>Upon </b><b>hearing </b><b>the </b>distinctive <b>tone </b><b>of </b>his <b>customized </b><b>notification </b>chime, James swiftly <b>fished </b><b>his </b><b>phone </b><b>from </b><b>his </b>pocket. A brief look of surprise flitted across his face as <b>he </b><b>read </b><b>the </b><b>text </b><b>from </b>girl next <b>door</b><b>. </b>
<b>The </b>words from this morning<b>? </b>
His piercing <b>eyes </b>squinted slightly as his fingertips paused on the screen. After a long moment<b>, </b>a faint smile crossed his chiseled features, and he replied, [Of course<b>, </b>my word is my <b>bond</b><b>.</b><b>] </b>
Mirabe was referring to his earlier offer, “You cane over to my ce sometime. It’s peaceful. I’ll add your fingerprint to the front gate.”
Mirabe pursed her lips as she read the response and typed back, [Are you home right now?]
James replied, [Yes, juste over.]
With that, Mirabe pocketed her phone and made her way next door, decisively choosing the handsome neighbor over the insufferable Donald.
As Mirabe approached the vi next door, James stepped out to greet her, dressed in light casual wear, his handsome face exuding an air of serene elegance. He reached out to open the gate, eyeing Mirabe with an inquisitive intensity. “So, did Zach’s blind date wrap up?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, stepping inside.
James closed the door behind them without a second thought.
“How’d it go? Anyone catch your eye?” he asked in a low voice, walking beside her.
Mirabe hesitated briefly before admitting, “Nope.” Finding a match for the infamous yboy was a lost cause.
They had just reached the entrance hall when James suddenly took hold of Mirabe’s arm. The warmth of his hand seeped through her clothes, causing her to look up in confusion.
James quickly released her, a gentleman once more, and pointed to the small,puterized security system on the wall. “For the fingerprint.”
Catching on, Mirabe moved closer to the embedded touchscreen with a look of mild surprise that faded as she remembered the tech–savvy Curtis.
James had already pulled up the fingerprint entry settings. “Let me show you how,” he said, stepping aside to give her space.
But Mirabe was already ahead of him, deftly navigating the screen andpleting the
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<b>process in under </b><b>ten </b><b>seconds</b><b>, </b><b>signaled </b><b>by </b><b>the </b><b>system’s </b><b>confirmation of </b>a <b>sessful </b><b>entry</b>.
<b>James</b><b>‘ </b><b>hand </b><b>awkwardly lingered </b><b>in </b><b>the </b><b>air</b>. He nced at <b>the screen</b><b>, </b>impressed by <b>her </b><b>proficiency</b>. <b>“</b><b>Seems </b>like you’re <b>quite </b>familiar with security systems,” he remarked.
<b>Mirabe </b>curled her fingers slightly, her long<b>, </b>curledshes casting a shadow over her <b>eyes</b>. “We installed one at my ce recently. I picked up a few things from the installer,” she exined, then sidestepped toward the nearby shoe cab.
James didn’t dwell on it, pulling out a pair of new, fluffy pink slippers and cing them before her. <b>“</b>Brand new.”
Mirabe eyed the pastel slippers with a touch of resignation and slipped them on. Pink, everywhere she went.
With her footwear changed, she followed James into the living room, which was conspicuously empty, save for the two of them.
“Are your guys… I mean, Wyatt and Curtis not around today?” Mirabe tactfully swallowed the words ‘your two muscle–bound bodyguards.‘