Morning sunlight poured through the wide windows of the Darlington mansion, glinting off the marble floors and casting a golden shimmer across the hallway. Birds outside chirped in a distant chorus as the estate slowly came alive after the long night of celebration.
Hutton had barely finished his morning meditation when a sharp knock echoed against his door. He opened it to find Rebecca standing there, dressed in a casual cream blouse and a soft pink jacket that framed her delicate features perfectly. Her long auburn hair was tied into a low ponytail, and her lips carried a small but disarming smile.
Beside her stood a boy around seven years old—Clyde, Rebecca's lively little cousin, the same one who had startled Hutton the day before. The child's eyes sparkled with mischief and boundless energy.
"Morning, Hutton," Rebecca greeted lightly. "I hope you don't mind—someone's been pestering me since sunrise."
