Lucas picked up a piece of toast, eyed it like it was a personal enemy, and then promptly reached for Trevor's plate instead. Trevor caught his wrist mid-move, not even looking up from buttering his own.
"Eat your own."
Lucas smirked, unfazed. "What's yours is mine."
Trevor finally met his gaze, violet eyes narrowing in amusement. "That doesn't extend to breakfast."
Windstone, who was pouring juice with mechanical calm, muttered just low enough to be heard, "It extends to everything else, apparently."
Lucas barked a laugh and leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee with exaggerated leisure. "Windstone, tell me something useful. Did the Maleks accept the deal with the Blacks?"
Windstone set the carafe down, folding his hands neatly behind his back. "They did. The agreement was signed late last night. Lady Mia was present, though it was Andrew who sealed the terms."
Trevor's response was immediate and flat. "Which means Mia won't work for us. We'll have to replace her."
