James's fork hovered uselessly above his plate. His brows knit together, confusion carving deep lines into his forehead.
"Discuss?" he muttered, the word tasting foreign. "What…" His gaze slid to Stiletto—lingering just long enough to register confusion—then snapped back to Mya. "…Valora?"
Mya nodded once—her expression calm.
James blinked. "What about it?"
Mya held the silence for a long, deliberate heartbeat. Then she straightened in her chair, shoulders squaring as though she were stepping onto a battlefield instead of a breakfast table. Her hand found Stiletto's beneath the wood again—fingers threading tight, warm, grounding. The instant their skin met, the last tremor in her voice vanished.
"I am going to Valora with the Young Master."
Three reactions happened at once:
James's eyes blew wide—shock and confusion warring across his face.
Sarah's head whipped toward Stiletto, silver eyes huge and glittering with something dangerously close to hunger.
And inside Stiletto's skull a vicious little thrill detonated: 'A fucking declaration? She's really going for it...' His cock stiffened instantly, thick and insistent against the seam of his pants. 'Shit, Mya... you really turn me on~'
The table was deathly quiet.
Deciding to break the silence first, Sarah opened her mouth. "Mom, that's so c—"
"Quiet," James snapped, voice cutting sharp.
Sarah instantly jolted. Hurt flashed across her face—raw, unguarded—before she clamped her lips shut and looked down at her plate.
James seemed to be holding his breath as he turned back to face his wife. He tried to speak twice—unsure what to say—before a single word finally scraped out.
"Why?"
Mya didn't flinch. "It's my duty as his personal maid... something like this was bound to happen."
James's ears were quickly turning red. He kept his volume down, but the roughness bled through every syllable. "First time I've ever heard of this 'being bound to happen,' hun."
The last word landed pointed, like a thrown knife.
Yet Mya's expression stayed perfectly neutral, seemingly unaffected. "You've never asked about the specifics of my position before."
Feeling he wouldn't be of any help in conversation, Stiletto decided to tune most of the exchange out. Instead, he focused on Mya, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles over the beautiful woman's knuckles—a silent show of support and affection. Under the table his other hand rested loose on his thigh, fighting the urge to adjust the ever-growing ache in his pants.
Across from him, Sarah's face was still tight, eyes glassy with the sting of being shut down so publicly—more confirmation that James was an inadequate father.
Catching her gaze, Stiletto mouthed, slow and clear, "Are you okay?"
Sarah blinked, confused for half a second, then the corner of her mouth lifted just a little while a faint blush crept up her neck. She glanced at her arguing parents before turning back to mouth three words: "I could be." Her head tipped backward once—toward the hallway.
Intrigued, Stiletto let a warm, easy smile spread across his face—like he hadn't just been invited to sneak off while her mother fought for her right to leave with her lover. 'Damn, this girl is nothing like Mya... she's definitely easy. Or...'
'...perhaps it's just me.'
He kept his gaze on Sarah while Mya and James continued to argue, somehow still remaining civil. Mya's voice stayed level as she pitched it again as simple duty, explaining that she had served her Young Master almost his entire life and that Valora changed nothing about that. James muttered about sudden decisions and proper notice.
Tracing yet another circle on Mya's knuckles, Stiletto contemplated. 'Honestly, I don't know if I should leave Mya alone like this…' Another circle followed. 'But then again… maybe having her daughter absent will make things easier for her.'
After a couple more circles, he came to a decision.
Suddenly, he cleared his throat, prompting the married couple to stop mid-sentence.
"Hey," Stiletto said lightly, "so… it sounds like this conversation will take a while…"
Sarah instantly took notice as she jumped in with enthusiasm dialed to eleven. "Mom, Dad, do you mind if I give the Young Master here a tour of the place?"
Stiletto shot Mya a glance. For a second pure fear lived in her eyes—raw, naked terror that he might actually walk away—before her gaze slid to Sarah and understanding clicked. She gave Stiletto one last hard, possessive squeeze, then let go of his hand as she spoke softly to her daughter. "Sure, Sare-bear. Go ahead."
James, however, grunted. "What about breakfast? You two are only half-done."
Sarah simply waved him off without looking back, her eyes locked on Stiletto. "It's no problem, Dad… Stiletto can come here and eat my breakfast…" She dragged her gaze down his body and back up, slow and deliberate. "…anytime."
Before James could form a protest or Mya could react, Sarah sprang out of her chair like it was on fire, reached across the table, and grabbed Stiletto's arm. Smug little smirk fully in bloom, she spoke with clear intent. "It's probably not much to a noble such as yourself… but there's actually quite a bit of space in this apartment. There's more…" Her voice dropped low enough that only he caught the full heat behind it. "…privacy than you'd think~ Let's go!"
The faint murmur of Mya and James resuming their argument drifted after them down the hallway as Stiletto let Sarah guide him by the arm, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. "You're walking awfully fast," he teased. "What about the house tour, Sarah~?"
Mya's daughter only giggled in response—bright and wicked—as she led him toward the furthest room at the back of the hall, which just so happened to be hers. "Don't worry," she teased back, eyes sparkling. "As your official tour guide, I'd like to show you the first… and maybe the last… destination~"
Opening the door, she pulled him through the last doorway on the right. Sunlight poured through a single tall window, turning the room gold. It appeared almost untouched—fitting, since she hadn't lived here in three years. A narrow bed waited with soft-pink sheets, flanked by a plain nightstand and a lamp in the corner. An empty desk sat beside a small closet. Nothing more.
Stiletto raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Pink? I never would have guessed that…"
Sarah spun to face him, giddy. "And why's that~?"
He took one step deeper into the room, easing his arm free of her grip so he could look down at her properly. "I don't know. You just don't strike me as the pink-sheets type…" His grin sharpened. "…but then again, it fits 'Sare-bear' perfectly, doesn't it?"
For the first time, Sarah's face ignited—full, blazing red. She looked down and muttered, blushing heavily, "Stop it… that's embarrassing."
Immediately, Stiletto belted out in laughter. And then without hesitation, he flicked her forehead lightly. "Now that's more like it. You looked exactly like your mother just now~"
Squeaking, Sarah rubbed the spot, mock-glaring. "Ouch!"
However in the next breath, her smile curled into pure mischief as she hooked a finger into the neckline of her top and tugged it down—just enough for the upper swell of her supple breasts to spill into view, creamy skin catching the sunlight. "What about these then..." she purred. "Any resemblance~?"
Stiletto blinked. 'The fu—' His eyes dropped for half a second—long enough to register the soft heft and faint view of her nipples—before snapping back to her face. '—this girl…'
Narrowing his eyes, he gathered himself and answered bluntly. "The maid's are bigger."
Now it was Sarah's turn to blink.
A beat passed...
And then she burst into giggles. "Lost that round, huh…" She grinned wider. "But..."
With a flick of her heel, she kicked the door shut as the latch clicked, sharp and final. She stepped in close and shoved—gentle but firm—until his back met the wall. "…that's where the comparisons end." Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. "I'll win this one by default~"
Then before he could answer, she pushed up on her toes, grabbed fistfuls of his white T-shirt, and yanked him down into a hot, searing kiss.