The kitchen had never felt this peaceful before.
Morning sunlight streamed through the enormous windows overlooking the gardens, painting soft golden patterns across the marble countertops and polished floors.
The scent of freshly baked bread lingered warmly in the air.
Coffee brewed quietly somewhere nearby.
Outside, fountains sparkled beneath the late-morning sunlight while distant birds drifted across the estate grounds.
Inside the kitchen, however, the world seemed smaller.
Quieter.
Simpler.
Because Maya was there.
And for the first time in a very long time, Rege felt completely at peace.
Not the temporary peace he found after winning negotiations.
Not the hollow peace that followed successful business deals.
Not the exhausted peace that came after sleepless nights.
Real peace.
The kind that settled deep inside his chest.
The kind he had spent years searching for without realizing it.
His hands moved steadily as he prepared breakfast.
Eggs.
Fresh vegetables.
Fruit.
Toast.
Simple things.
Yet every movement felt strangely meaningful.
Because he wasn't cooking out of obligation.
Wasn't cooking because someone expected him to.
Wasn't cooking because he was trying to impress anyone.
He was cooking for Maya.
And that realization alone made something warm spread quietly through him.
Rege had cooked countless times throughout his life.
With his mother.
Alone.
Occasionally during periods when he wanted silence more than company.
But this felt different.
Dangerously different.
Because for the first time, he wasn't preparing food for himself.
He was preparing it for someone who mattered.
Someone whose happiness affected his own.
Someone whose smile could completely alter his entire day.
Someone who stirred possessive instincts he never knew he had.
The realization should have unsettled him.
Instead—
It made him happy.
His attention drifted toward the kitchen table.
Maya sat quietly in one of the chairs.
Watching him.
A bright smile stretched across her face.
The kind of smile that seemed completely incapable of hiding itself.
Sunlight illuminated her hair beautifully.
The oversized sweatshirt she'd slept in made her look impossibly soft.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Home.
Rege's breath caught slightly.
God.
That smile.
Every single time.
His chest tightened beneath the overwhelming weight of emotion.
Ached.
Not painfully.
Just heavily.
Like his heart couldn't quite contain everything it felt whenever she looked at him like that.
Maya caught him staring.
Immediately.
Her smile widened.
And somehow became even brighter.
Rege found himself returning it without thinking.
A smaller smile.
Softer.
One reserved entirely for her.
The sight made Maya grin even more.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The silence between them no longer felt awkward.
It felt comfortable.
Natural.
Like something that had always existed.
Eventually Rege shook his head faintly and returned his attention to the stove before he completely forgot what he was doing.
Meanwhile—
Elsewhere in the mansion—
Eleanor was looking for the kitchen staff.
Lunch preparations normally began long before noon.
Which was why she immediately noticed something unusual.
The staff weren't inside the kitchen.
Instead, nearly all of them stood gathered outside.
Waiting.
Talking quietly amongst themselves.
The sight immediately caught her attention.
"What happened?"
The head chef straightened.
"Mr. Hastings asked us to leave the kitchen."
Eleanor blinked.
For a moment she genuinely thought she'd misheard.
"Rege?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The chef nodded respectfully.
"He requested privacy."
Privacy.
In the kitchen.
A strange feeling settled inside Eleanor immediately.
Because she couldn't remember the last time Rege voluntarily entered the kitchen.
Let alone cleared it of staff.
Curiosity stirred.
Alongside something else.
Something she refused to name.
Before she realized it, her feet were already moving.
The walk toward the kitchen felt strangely long.
And strangely heavy.
Yet she continued anyway.
Partly because she wanted answers.
Partly because she wanted to see him.
Alone.
Perhaps speak with him.
Perhaps remind herself that things weren't as different as everyone seemed to believe.
Then she stepped inside.
And everything stopped.
The kitchen suddenly felt frozen.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Because the sight before her struck harder than she was prepared for.
Rege stood beside Maya.
Close.
Far too close.
One arm rested lightly against the back of her chair.
The plate he'd prepared sat directly before her.
And at that exact moment—
His lips brushed softly against her cheek.
Maya giggled.
Bright.
Happy.
Completely unguarded.
The sound echoed through the enormous kitchen.
And something inside Eleanor cracked.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But she felt it.
Sharp.
Painful.
Immediate.
Because Maya looked happy.
Not pretending.
Not performing.
Genuinely happy.
And Rege looked...
God.
Rege looked happy too.
Maya turned first.
Her eyes met Eleanor's.
The laughter disappeared immediately.
Not entirely.
But enough.
A cold sensation ran down her spine.
Instinctive.
Unexplained.
Her fingers tightened slightly around Rege's shirt.
The movement was subtle.
Almost invisible.
But Rege noticed instantly.
His body straightened.
The softness left his expression.
Not completely.
Just enough.
His gaze followed Maya's.
And landed on Eleanor.
The room shifted immediately.
Eleanor smiled.
Perfectly.
Elegantly.
Sweetly.
The same smile she'd worn for years.
The same smile everyone trusted.
The same smile that somehow felt different now.
Because this time it never reached her eyes.
Not even slightly.
She walked toward them gracefully.
Every step measured.
Controlled.
Sophisticated.
Maya's grip shifted from Rege's shirt to his hand.
Almost unconsciously.
The moment her fingers wrapped around his, Rege's jaw tightened slightly.
Eleanor noticed.
Of course she noticed.
And somehow that hurt most of all.
"Maya."
Her voice sounded warm.
Pleasant.
Almost affectionate.
"You weren't able to make breakfast this morning."
Maya smiled politely.
Though it felt slightly forced.
"Yes."
Eleanor nodded.
"I'm sure you were tired."
The pause that followed carried far more meaning than the words themselves.
"It was a long day yesterday."
Maya felt the hidden implication immediately.
So did Rege.
So did Eleanor.
Yet no one acknowledged it.
"Yes."
Maya's response remained polite.
Careful.
Eleanor continued smiling.
"I hope you're well rested now."
Her gaze lingered briefly.
"And able to join us for lunch."
Maya nodded.
"Of course."
"Good."
Eleanor's smile never wavered.
Yet her eyes moved around the kitchen.
Taking everything in.
The ingredients.
The plates.
The preparation.
The food.
The realization settled slowly.
Almost cruelly.
Rege had cooked.
For Maya.
Not staff.
Not family.
Not guests.
Maya.
The truth struck harder than she expected.
Because she knew Rege.
And she knew exactly how significant that was.
Her jaw tightened painfully.
Yet her smile remained flawless.
Years of practice made certain things automatic.
"I'll leave you both alone."
Her gaze lingered briefly on Rege.
Only a second.
Yet an entire conversation seemed trapped inside that single glance.
Then she looked back at Maya.
"See you at lunch."
"See you at lunch."
Eleanor nodded.
Turned.
And walked away.
Gracefully.
Perfectly.
Without once looking back.
The moment the kitchen doors closed behind her—
Maya released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Oh my God."
She slumped slightly.
Relief flooding her immediately.
Rege watched her carefully.
Maya rolled her eyes.
The tension finally disappeared.
And just like that, her smile returned.
Bright.
Warm.
Unfiltered.
The smile Rege preferred above all others.
His chest tightened again.
This time pleasantly.
Without thinking—
He leaned down.
Pressed a soft kiss against her cheek.
Maya immediately blushed.
The color spread beautifully across her face.
And somehow that only made her smile wider.
Rege couldn't help smiling too.
A genuine one.
The kind that appeared more frequently around her now.
The kind that no longer surprised him.
He took the seat beside her.
Close enough that their shoulders brushed occasionally.
Then finally began eating.
Silence settled around them once more.
Comfortable silence.
Easy silence.
The kind neither of them felt obligated to fill.
Maya ate happily.
Occasionally glancing toward him.
Then looking away whenever she caught him watching.
Unfortunately for her—
Rege never stopped watching.
Not really.
Every smile.
Every expression.
Every tiny reaction.
He found himself memorizing all of it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Because somehow, somewhere between flowers and rooftops and sleepless nights—
Watching Maya had become his favourite thing in the world.