Serena felt Hugh's hand tighten ever so slightly. That confirmed it. Her hunch was right.
So, the cold, emotionless Hugh actually had a soft spot for fuzzy things.
She recalled the vibrant, exotic plants in Hugh's villa—lush, delicate, and meticulously cared for. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that his icy demeanor might just be a defense mechanism.
With that in mind, she shot him a knowing look, leaned in a little closer, and lowered her voice. "If you like it, feel free to touch it more. I can carry fuzzy handbags when I come see you, too."
If he really liked soft, plush textures that much… Well, she could let him indulge in private.
After all, Hugh wasn't made of stone. Between work and family obligations, if even this tiny pleasure was off-limits, wouldn't that just be too cruel?
She looked at him now not just with amusement, but with a trace of tenderness in her gaze.
Hugh, on the other hand, was frowning deeply. Something about the way Serena was looking at him felt… off.
But she had become more forward lately. And that was good.
Slowly, his brows eased, and following her lead, he rubbed the fur of her shawl a little more. His eyes, however, were fixed on the sharp curve of her jawline.
She was too thin.
They were both lost in their thoughts when the distant wail of a siren shattered the moment.
"What happened?" Holly was the first to rush to the door.
"It's Mr. Cole's fiancée! She collapsed, unconscious, in the garden downstairs. No one could wake her, so we had to call an ambulance! Is Mr. Cole or Mrs. Larson around? The EMTs are asking for a family member to ride along!"
Sarah had collapsed?
As Cole's fiancée, she was already halfway into the Larson family.
Guests began exchanging confused glances and whispering among themselves.
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