The sun was already high by the time Jane put her coffee mug down on the dining table. She glanced at the clock, then back at Charles, who was reviewing a few emails before breakfast.
"Charles, is it just me or is Rosie not up yet?" Jane asked, her brows furrowed.
Charles looked up. "Hmm, even Arthur hasn't stepped out of his room."
Jane stood up, wiping her hands on a napkin. "I'll check her room again. That's the third time already."
She walked down the corridor to Rosie's door and knocked gently. No response. She pushed the door slightly—empty bed, no signs of Rosie.
Meanwhile, Charles pulled his laptop closer, sighing. "We should probably get going, Jane. The office isn't going to wait."
Jane returned with a small shake of her head. "She's not there. Maybe she went out early for a walk? I don't know, but I have a weird feeling."
Charles stood up, buttoning his blazer. "We'll call home from the office. Let's not overthink. Maybe they're just tired after the trip."
They left for work, the mansion growing quiet again.
Back inside, Rosie tiptoed from Arthur's room wearing his oversized tee, her hair a mess, face still flushed from the night before. She gently placed her head on Arthur's chest as he stirred awake.
"Mmh," Arthur muttered groggily, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. "You're warm."
Rosie chuckled against his chest. "You're sweaty."
Arthur grinned. "Because you wore me out last night."
They both laughed, the sound soft and sleepy, and cuddled back under the covers.
"You know," Rosie whispered, tracing her fingers lazily over his chest, "I've never felt like this before. This kind of… peace. Chaos, too—but in a good way."
Arthur kissed the top of her head. "Same. I don't know how we got here, but I'm not complaining."
The moment was interrupted by the creak of footsteps down the hall. Sam, the mansion's cook, was making his way toward the kitchen when he paused—he noticed Rosie sneaking out of Arthur's room earlier. He raised a suspicious brow but shook it off, muttering, "Not my business."
Later, while preparing lunch, Sam caught sight of Rosie entering the kitchen… again with Arthur, right behind her. They weren't holding hands, but the closeness—the whispers, the little smirks—made it obvious.
Sam narrowed his eyes.
Something was off.
Once Rosie left to grab something, Arthur lingered, opening the fridge casually.
"Sir," Sam said slowly, "I saw Rosie… coming out of your room this morning."
Arthur stiffened, slowly closing the fridge. "Sam… it's not what it looks like."
"It never is," Sam replied, crossing his arms. "But I'm not blind."
Arthur sighed. "Look, I respect you. You've been working here for years. This is just—"
"—Unacceptable?" Sam cut in. "Do you think Mr. Charles would be fine knowing what's going on under his roof?"
Arthur clenched his jaw. "Don't bring Dad into this."
"Well, someone should," Sam said firmly. "Rosie's like a daughter to this family."
Arthur moved closer. "Sam… let's talk."
Within minutes, they were in Arthur's room. Rosie was there, half-laughing from something on her phone. She quickly looked up and froze when she saw Sam behind Arthur.
Arthur gave her a warning glance. "He knows."
Sam's eyes darted between them. "I don't want to make a scene. But this can't go unnoticed."
"Then what do you want?" Arthur asked, arms crossed. "Because if you tell my dad now, it'll break everything."
Sam hesitated. Then he exhaled slowly. "Ten thousand."
Rosie's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"
Sam shrugged. "Secrets have value, don't they?"
Arthur looked at Rosie, then nodded. "Fine. Done. You'll have it by tonight."
Sam didn't look happy, but he agreed. "I'll keep quiet. But be careful. You might be able to buy silence once, not forever."
After Sam left, Rosie turned to Arthur, her nerves rattled. "This could've gone bad."
Arthur held her by the waist. "It still could. We just have to be careful."
Rosie tried to change the mood. "How about another wild party? Like the old ones?"
Arthur chuckled. "Trying to distract yourself?"
"Maybe," she smiled. "Also… I kind of want to see you in that wild, drunk chaos again."
Arthur leaned in, whispering, "That chaos might be the reason we got into this mess."
"And yet," she kissed his cheek, "I wouldn't change a thing."
Evening rolled in.
Charles and Jane returned home, a little more relaxed after handling a chaotic office day. As they walked in, Charles paused when he saw Arthur and Rosie sitting on the gallery steps, sipping tea.
"Hii, Dad," Rosie said softly.
Arthur looked at his dad, panicked for a second, then quickly stood up. "Hey," he mumbled and dashed inside.
Charles narrowed his eyes. "Did he just run away from me?"
Jane noticed it too. "That was… weird."
After freshening up, Charles pulled Jane aside in the study. "Something's off."
"You noticed too?" Jane whispered.
He nodded. "Tomorrow. Let's talk to both of them at dinner. I want everything out in the open."
That night, at dinner, the tension was obvious.
Arthur kept avoiding Charles's gaze. Rosie played with her food more than she ate. Jane tried making small talk, but it fell flat.
Finally, Charles put his fork down.
"Rosie. Arthur. We want to talk to you."
Both looked up instantly.
"Is everything okay?" Rosie asked nervously.
Charles didn't answer immediately. His tone was serious. "After dinner. In the study."
Arthur looked at Rosie, his heart sinking. Did Sam talk? Did they get caught?
They didn't touch the rest of their food.
As dinner ended, Rosie gripped Arthur's hand under the table.
"What do you think they know?"
Arthur leaned in. "Let's just stay calm. And deny everything."
They stood up together and followed Charles and Jane into the study, the hallway suddenly feeling ten times longer than it should have.