Amy immediately caught the subtext.
It was a threat.
A threat wrapped in a thin veneer of politeness.
She bit the inside of her cheek and caved. "Alright, Yvonne. I'll handle the arrangements."
"Thanks for the hard work." Yvonne's voice was saccharine again. "With my health being so poor, having a reliable manager like you really puts my mind at ease."
She hung up.
Yvonne tossed her phone aside and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
Eleanor was bringing over a few interior designers later to finalize the decor for her new bridal suite. All she had to do was endure this for just a little while longer!
Then she would officially become Zander's legal wife!
In the living room.
Eleanor was excitedly reviewing wedding room layouts with an interior designer, enthusiastically flipping through a stack of swatches on the coffee table.
"This curtain color is too gloomy, no good. Switch it to ivory white. We need a custom nightstand. The original one is too small—swap it for a bigger one so Yvonne has space for her supplements."
The designer scribbled furiously on their notepad.
Yvonne sat on the far end of the sofa, nursing a cup of herbal tea. She looked the picture of elegance, but her eyes kept darting toward Zander.
Zander was sitting in the single armchair furthest away from her.
He wasn't looking at the swatches, and he wasn't looking at Yvonne.
The screen of his phone was lit up in his hand, but he wasn't looking at that, either.
He was staring out the window.
Outside in the estate's courtyard, the leaves of the pomegranate tree were beginning to fall, drifting down one by one onto the slate tiles.
"Zander!" Eleanor called out to him.
Zander snapped out of it. "What?"
"Come look at the style for this nightstand—" Eleanor waved him over. "Yvonne said she prefers something minimalist. Which one do you think is best?"
Zander gave it a cursory glance. "Whatever. You guys pick."
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