Chapter 2
Chapter 2
For a moment, nobody noticed him.
The twins were too busy arguing.
“That was not a goal,” Callum insisted, pointing accusingly across the room.
“It crossed the line.”
“It crossed nothing.”
“It crossed everything.”
The young housekeeper lifted both hands again.
“I am officially retiring from professional sports,” she declared. “The refereeing is too dangerous.”
The boys laughed.
Thomas felt something tighten in his chest.
Not because of what he saw.
Because of what he remembered.
The last time he had heard that sound from either of his sons was before the accident.
Before hospitals.
Before surgeries.
Before the endless procession of specialists who spoke in percentages and probabilities.
Before every conversation became careful.
Measured.
Fragile.
The laughter finally faded.
Eli was the first to notice him standing in the doorway.
His smile disappeared.
“Dad?”
The room fell silent.
Callum turned.
The housekeeper froze.
Thomas realized she looked barely older than a college student.
Twenty-three, maybe twenty-four.
Young enough to be intimidated by a billionaire employer.
Yet somehow not intimidated enough to stop whatever had been happening here.
“Surprise,” Thomas said.
The word sounded strange.
His sons stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, Eli grinned.
“You’re early.”
“I know.”
“Mom doesn’t.”
“I know that too.”
That earned another laugh.
A small one.
But real.
Thomas stepped farther into the room.
“What exactly am I looking at?”
The housekeeper immediately straightened.
“Mr. Hargrove, I can explain.”
Something in her voice suggested she expected trouble.
Serious trouble.
Thomas looked around.
There were rolled-up socks scattered across the carpet.
A laundry basket positioned against the far wall.
Several pillows had apparently been arranged as obstacles.
The entire sitting room looked as if it had been converted into an indoor sports arena by people with absolutely no concern for interior design.
His eyes returned to the young woman.
“And you are?”
“Marisol Reyes.”
“Housekeeping?”
“Yes, sir.”
Callum snorted.
“That’s technically true.”
Marisol shot him a warning look.
Eli ignored it.
“She also cheats.”
“I do not cheat.”
“You absolutely cheat.”
“You make up rules every thirty seconds.”
Thomas found himself staring at the exchange.
The ease of it.
The familiarity.
For months every report he had received about his sons contained words like adjustment, monitoring, progress, adaptation.
No report had ever mentioned this.
No report had mentioned laughter.
No report had mentioned a housekeeper turning his formal sitting room into a battlefield of socks and laundry baskets.
“Who won?” Thomas asked.
The room went quiet.
Then both boys pointed at themselves.
Marisol groaned.
“See? This is why I’m retiring.”
A smile threatened the corner of Thomas’s mouth.
Before it could fully appear, another voice cut through the room.
Sharp.
Cold.
Controlled.
“Thomas.”
Diana.
She stood at the entrance to the sitting room.
Perfect posture.
Perfect hair.
Perfect expression.
The only imperfection was the anger in her eyes.
Marisol immediately stepped back.
The twins looked away.
The atmosphere changed so quickly it felt physical.
Thomas understood then that he had interrupted something larger than a game.
Diana's gaze settled on Marisol.
“I thought we had discussed this.”
“Nobody was being hurt,” Marisol said quietly.
“That is not the point.”
“It should be.”
The words escaped before anyone could stop them.
A dangerous silence followed.
Thomas watched Diana carefully.
His sister had always expected obedience.
Especially from employees.
Especially from people she considered beneath notice.
“Perhaps,” Diana said, “you have forgotten your position.”
“No,” Marisol replied.
“I know exactly what my position is.”
The twins exchanged a nervous glance.
Thomas felt an unfamiliar sensation.
Curiosity.
Because nobody spoke to Diana Hargrove that way.
Nobody.
Yet this young woman had done it twice in ten seconds.
Diana turned toward him.
“You arrived at an interesting moment.”
“I can see that.”
“Then perhaps you can help resolve it.”
Thomas said nothing.
His sister folded her arms.
“The housekeeper has become far too comfortable here.”
The statement hung in the air.
Marisol stared at the floor.
The twins looked furious.
And suddenly Thomas understood.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough to recognize sides had already been chosen.
Enough to realize his sons were afraid of what happened next.
Enough to notice that neither of them was looking at Diana.
They were looking at him.
Waiting.
Hoping.
As if the next sentence mattered more than anyone in the room wanted to admit.
Thomas took a slow breath.
Then he looked directly at Marisol.
“Tell me something.”
She lifted her head.
“Yes, sir?”
“How long has it been since my sons laughed like this?”
The room became perfectly still.
Marisol hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Before I started working here?”
May you like
She glanced toward the twins.
“Not once.”
