The man''s face turned stormy in an instant. His expression was tense as he shot a deep look at Lizetta and Jerome standing behind her, then spun on his heel and stormed out, a cold gust following him as he mmed the door.


    Lizetta watched him leave, unable to suppress a small, ironic smile as she turned away. Oddly enough, her spirits were surprisingly high.


    "Hey, I''m heading upstairs. You should get some rest too," Lizetta said, ncing up at her brother, Jerome.


    Just as she was about to leave, Jerome spoke up.


    "I''ve got a couple of meetings to attend tonight, Liz. Could you brew me some coffee?"


    Lizetta looked at Jerome, feeling a slight urge to avoid being alone with him. There was always a vague pressure around him.


    If Jerome had asked her to join him for coffee, she could have easily refused, saying


    it would keep her up all night. But brewing a pot was different, especially since she''d just enjoyed the dinner he prepared. There was no polite way to say no.


    She nodded, conceding, "You just got out of the hospital, and caffeine isn''t great for the stomach. If it''s not urgent, maybe you could postpone..."


    Jerome smiled slightly, "These two virtual meetings have already been postponed because of the hospital stay. Just make me a light cup, okay?"


    "Alright."


    The two headed to the small kitchen downstairs.


    Back when Lizetta lived at the Dashiell family estate, Fiona loved coffee, so Lizetta had picked up quite a bit about brewing the perfect cup. She even got certified as a barista in her spare time.


    Later, at Tranquil Meadows, she''d often brew coffee for her grandparents.


    When Jerome and Nelson were in discussions, Lizetta would frequently be nearby, listening and brewing coffee.


    She had be quite skilled at it, and her movements were graceful and fluid. Soon, she ced a cup of coffee in front of Jerome.


    The in white mug, with just a simple engraving of a sprig of oak, held a rich, aromatic brew.


    The sight was pleasing, but even more striking was the hand that held the cup.


    Her hands were elegant and


    unadorned, without any nail polish,


    Which was


    yet it was is hard to tell which was


    pristine, her hand or the white


    mug.


    Just as Lizetta was about to release her grip, Jerome suddenly sped her hand with his, his firm grip halting her.


    The coffee rippled slightly in the cup.


    Lizetta''s heart gave a small jolt as she looked up at Jerome.


    Through the swirling steam, his eyes were clear but carried an unusual intensity.


    "Liz, have you let him back into your life?" Jerome asked, his voice steady but probing.


    Tonight, between Lizetta and Remington, there had been an unspoken connection, a familiarity Though their interactionscked any physical touch, the air between them was charged with mutual understanding.


    Jerome had noticed their frequent exchange of nces.


    Lizetta hadn''t anticipated Jerome would be so direct. She had concealed her


    feelings from her grandparents to spare them the worry.


    But with Jerome, she hadn''t nned to hide. In fact, she wanted to be upfront.


    Her initial surprise faded, and she steadied her gaze, "I..."


    Before she could continue, Jerome interrupted, as if he already knew what she was about to say.


    "Liz, I don''t know what he did to


    make you open up to him again so quickly but remember, those who are favored often take it for granted. Have you forgotten the pain he caused you before?"