Silas Thorne's words could easily be misunderstood. Joyce Monroe got a headache just thinking about how she'd scratched him. After petting the dog, Dolly settled down to sleep by the sofa. Joyce scrolled through her phone for a while before returning to her room.
But then,
The moment she pushed open the door, she noticed a lump under the covers. Someone was clearly asleep in her bed.
"Mr. Thorne, your room is next door. Are you in the wrong place?" Joyce Monroe approached, trying to wake him. But the instant her fingers touched him, her wrist was seized, and a powerful force yanked her onto the bed.
The world spun.
The next thing she knew, she was pinned beneath Silas Thorne.
She reached out to push him away, but the contact made her recoil in shock. "Y-You... why do you sleep without clothes on?"
"Is there a rule that says you have to wear clothes to bed?"
"You..."
"What? Don't you like what you see?"
Joyce Monroe's gaze drifted down to his taut abs.
'Don't like it?'
'How could I possibly not!'
Silas Thorne leaned closer. "Or are you saying you want to scratch me again?"
"I did not! Last time was a misunderstanding. I didn't mean to..."
Before she could finish, he suddenly lowered his head and captured her lips.
His lips,
Were hot,
And soft,
And searing.
It sent shivers through Joyce Monroe's entire body. As he moved his kisses to her ear, his breath was scorching. "But I... am doing this on purpose."
To kiss you on purpose;
To pin you beneath me on purpose;
To leave my mark on you on purpose;
On purpose...
Suddenly, a sound rang out. The moment Joyce Monroe's eyes flew open, she wanted to die.
'I'm going crazy!'
'How could I have such a dirty dream? And with Silas Thorne, of all people?'
'I'm doomed.' Joyce Monroe slapped her cheeks. 'How could I have such a shameless dream?'
Meanwhile, the sound continued: [The Emperor wants to go play!]
[Bastard!]
[The Emperor wants to go play!]
[Bastard!]
[Bastard!]
...
Dolly the dog was hitting the button again. It seemed Mrs. Zimmerman hadn't arrived yet.
Dolly had to go out at the same time every day, so to make the noise stop, Joyce Monroe had no choice but to get out of bed with a yawn.
When she hastily threw on a jacket and opened her door, she saw Silas Thorne dressed in a dark blue tracksuit, holding Dolly's leash, ready to take the dog out.
To be honest,
This was the first time Joyce Monroe had seen him in workout clothes. His hair was casually tousled, and he seemed less unapproachable than usual—more grounded and human. Seeing her, he simply said, "I'm taking the dog for a walk. Go back to sleep."
"Okay." Joyce Monroe was more than happy to let someone else walk the dog. "By the way, the passcode for the apartment is..."
"Three eights followed by your birthday. Mrs. Zimmerman told me yesterday."
Silas Thorne then asked, "What do you want for breakfast? I can grab something on my way."
"Mrs. Zimmerman will be here to make it later."
But once she was back in her room, Joyce Monroe couldn't fall asleep again, all because of that steamy dream. She splashed her face with cold water to clear her head. By the time she finished getting ready and came out, Mrs. Zimmerman had already arrived and was starting on breakfast, asking about Silas Thorne's preferences.
"He doesn't eat sour things, no cilantro or ginger. He likes his drinks iced, and he takes sugar in his coffee."
"I'll make coffee for Mr. Thorne, then."
"I'll do it." 'A certain someone is picky and likes his coffee hand-ground.'
Mrs. Zimmerman smiled and nodded, then asked, "Did you and Mr. Thorne sleep in separate rooms last night?"
"We've been married for two years, but we don't really know each other. We need more time."
"I was being too hasty."
"Do we have any caramel cubes?"
"Yes, in the cupboard." Mrs. Zimmerman was busy cooking, so Joyce Monroe opened the cupboard to find them herself. Just then, her phone vibrated. It was a call from the family estate. "Hello, Grandma."
"Are you free today?"
"I have a meeting this morning and a client appointment in the afternoon."
"Then come back and have dinner with me tonight. You said you were busy with friends on your birthday; surely you can make time for your grandma this time."
Just then, Silas Thorne returned from walking the dog and happened to overhear her say, "Alright, I'll head over tonight."
After she hung up, he asked with feigned casualness, "Plans tonight?"
"Mhm, I'm going to the family estate for dinner with my grandma," Joyce Monroe said as she took the caramel cubes and resumed grinding the coffee. "What about you? Any plans today?"
"Resting."
"Must be nice. I have to go to the studio after breakfast, and I won't be back for lunch. If you need anything, just let Mrs. Zimmerman know. And please look after Dolly."
"Okay. It's supposed to rain today, remember to bring an umbrella."
Joyce Monroe nodded. Still thinking about last night's ridiculous dream, she could barely look at him during breakfast. When Quentin Walsh arrived to deliver some documents, she grabbed the lunchbox Mrs. Zimmerman had packed and practically fled, completely forgetting to take an umbrella.
"Sir, what did you do last night?" Quentin Walsh asked, perplexed.
"What about me?" Silas Thorne took a sip of his coffee, decided it was missing something, and dropped in two more caramel cubes.
"It seems Miss Monroe is terrified of you."
"They're a young couple, still getting used to each other. She's just a bit shy," Mrs. Zimmerman said with a laugh. "Mr. Thorne, when do you plan on telling the matriarch that you and Miss Monroe are married? She dotes on Miss Monroe. She'd be overjoyed to know she married you."
"She dotes on her?" Silas Thorne inquired.
"There's a special bond between grandparents and grandchildren. The matriarch spoils Miss Monroe rotten. Even after her father remarried, brought home a stepdaughter, and had a son... and even when the eldest son was still around, the matriarch's absolute favorite has always been Miss Monroe."
Silas Thorne listened in silence, offering only a faint murmur of acknowledgment before adding, "The coffee's good today."
**
When Joyce Monroe left work, she walked out of her studio to find the driver from the family estate had already been waiting for some time.
After getting into the car, she had the driver stop so she could buy some pastries.
By the time she reached the estate, Monroe was brewing tea in the living room. She wore a blue-and-white patterned brocade top and reading glasses. When she heard Joyce Monroe had arrived, the corners of her eyes crinkled with a smile. "What took you so long? The tea is getting cold."
"I went to buy some of the peach crisps you like."
"You made a special detour, didn't you? Such a thoughtful and filial granddaughter."
Monroe gestured for her to sit beside her. "Work is never-ending. You just got back, and Graymoor has changed so much in these two years. You should go out more with your friends, do some shopping. If you're short on cash, Grandma will cover it."
"Your studio is just getting started. If you need capital, just tell your grandma. I'll support you no matter what you choose to do."
"Thank you, Grandma."
The two chatted warmly, the atmosphere pleasant.
Just as dinner was about to be served, a servant announced, "Ma'am, the Griffin family's youngest son has arrived."
A flicker of emotion crossed Joyce Monroe's eyes. She simply lowered her head and sipped her tea as she heard her grandmother say, "Show him in."
Julian Griffin had argued with Ina Sutton yesterday, and his face was still faintly bruised. He held Poppy in one arm and carried several gift boxes in the other. "Monroe, my sincerest apologies for this sudden intrusion."
"Your face... what happened?"
"I asked Joyce out to dinner last night, but I got into a bit of a scuffle during the meal and couldn't properly look after her. I was planning to go to her studio to explain, but then I heard she had come here," Julian Griffin explained.
"That looks pretty serious. Did you treat it?" Monroe asked.
"It's nothing serious, I've already taken care of it. I just wanted to make sure Joyce was okay. I'll be taking my leave now."
"Dinner is almost ready. Stay and eat with us."
"Well..." Julian Griffin clearly wanted to stay, but he hesitated, looking toward Joyce Monroe.
"I'll have them set another place," Monroe said with a smile. "Our families have known each other for a long time, and you and Joyce were classmates. You should stay for dinner."
"In that case, I'd be honored."
Wanting to win over Joyce Monroe, Julian Griffin put on his best performance, even rolling up his sleeves and heading into the kitchen.
Monroe clicked her tongue and gave a resigned smile. "He's liked you since you were in school. It's obvious he's still not over you, even after all these years."
Joyce Monroe said nothing.
"Not happy? Are you blaming your grandma for inviting him to stay?"
"I only wanted to have dinner with you, without any outsiders."
"Is that really all? Or are you still unable to get over what happened two years ago? Are you still unable to forget him?"
At these words from Monroe, Joyce Monroe's hand, which was holding her cup, tightened slightly.
She recalled his decisive words from their breakup two years ago:
"Joyce Monroe, we're not right for each other."