~NIKLAUS~
Lester pulls up to my house just as the rain starts turning into a fine mist. He kills the engine and glances at me, but I'm already reaching for the door handle.
"You need help getting upstairs?" he asks, his voice hovering between concern and worry.
"I'm not a damn damsel in distress," I mutter, stepping out. "I'm fine."
Lester follows anyway, long strides keeping pace with me as we enter the quiet house. Stevenson appears almost immediately, his expression unreadable but his posture attentive.
"Should I prepare something for you, sir?"
I let out a slow breath. "You can retire for the day, Stevenson."
A slight nod, and he disappears down the hallway. I make my way toward the bar, the familiar clink of glass calming in its routine. I reach for a bottle of red and a crystal glass—only for Lester to snatch the bottle clean out of my hand.
My jaw tightens. "Give it back."
