Mirabe''s vi wasn''t far from James''s ce, just a quick one or two-minute drive.


    At the entrance, James handed her a pair of shoes and pointed to the fingerprint lock on the door. "Go ahead, enter your print."


    While slipping into the shoes, Mirabe shot him a sidelong nce. "Aren''t you worried that one day, in a fit of poverty, I''ll rob your house clean?"


    From the moment she stepped inside, thevishness of the ce hit her like a wave.


    James raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes gleaming with hidden meaning. "If you want to, you don''t have to wait. You can do it now."


    Silently, Mirabe went to register her fingerprint.


    James chuckled, shook his head, rolled up his sleeves, and headed to the kitchen.


    Mirabe quickly finished, turned around, and started exploring the opulent vi. The more she saw, the more insecure she felt about her own financial state.


    "You''re actually cooking?" she asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway, surprised to see him skillfully washing and chopping vegetables.


    James continued without missing a beat, his deep voice carrying over. "Surprised?"


    Mirabe noddedzily, her delicate features rxed. "A bit."


    Given his princely demeanor, she would''ve never guessed he could handle a knife, but the sight of him chopping vegetables was oddly captivating.


    After a moment, a thought struck her. "So, during boot camp, those meals were your handiwork too?"


    James hummed in affirmation. Raised with little parental oversight, cooking was a skill he''d mastered early on.


    He went to the fridge, pulled out a bunch of grapes, washed them meticulously, ced them on a te, and handed it to Mirabe. "Dinner''s in twenty minutes."


    With that, he turned back to his tasks in the kitchen.


    Mirabe blinked, looked at the grapes in her hand, and popped one into her mouth.


    Pretty sweet.


    She wandered back to the living room, sat down, and started idly flipping through TV channels while munching on the fruit.


    The phone on the coffee table rang nced at it, spat out a


    "Your phone''s ringing."Jam


    kin, and called out to.


    After a few seconds with no response, she got up, slipped on her shoes, and grabbed the phone,


    "Someone''s calling you."


    walking towards the konto ele


    James, busy with his gloves on, didn''t even nce at the phone. "Who is it?"


    Mirabe checked the screen. "No name, just a number."


    "Don''t answer it," James replied without hesitation.


    "Alright." Mirabe nodded, figuring it was likely a scam, and hung up before heading back out.


    Not long after, James brought out three dishes and a soup, calling Mirabe over from the living room.


    As she sat down, she mentioned, "That call came through two more times."


    James, still not reaching for his phone, leisurely served her a bowl of soup. "I know."


    Mirabe shot him a look but then quietly started eating.


    The taste was just as she remembered.


    After dinner, Mirabe checked the time, nning to stay a bit longer before heading home.


    Just then, Curtis walked in,


    momentarily surprised to see her He quickly regained hisposure, nodding respectfully. "Ms.


    Mirabe."


    Mirabe nodded back, her gaze lingering on Curtis. "Did you get hurt?"