Chapter 11
“It’s just a big house, buddy,” I replied, keeping a firm grip on his hand.
Marcus turned to face us, waving off the servants who had gathered to greet the returning mistress.
“I had your old suite prepared,” Marcus said softly, pointing toward the east wing of the estate.
“It has been kept exactly as you left it five years ago, Evelyn.”
“Nothing was touched, not a single book, dress, or painting.”
I looked at him, feeling a strange ache in my chest at the thought of my preserved bedroom.
“I need food for the boys, Marcus,” I stated, keeping my tone strictly business-like.
“They haven't had dinner yet.”
“The private chef is already preparing fresh meals for them,” Marcus replied quickly.
“Anything they want, just name it.”
He led us down the familiar carpeted hallway toward the private family wing.
The boys ran ahead slightly, marveling at the ancient armor suits and paintings lining the walls.
Marcus walked beside me, his long strides slowing down to match my hesitant pace.
“You raised them well, Evelyn,” he murmured softly so the boys wouldn't hear.
“They are polite, confident, and beautiful.”
May you like
“I did it without your syndicate money, Marcus,” I reminded him sharply.
“I worked twelve-hour shifts at a bakery to buy their clothes.”
