Reunion with a Fair Lady

By the time they reached Paris, evening had set in. The long journey had left everyone famished, save for Fanmuir, whose ethereal nature freed him from such mundane needs. Seeing Adam Alexandrow's dust-covered yet uncomplaining expression, Fanmuir, despite his lofty status, felt a rare sense of appreciation. With an uncharacteristically gentle tone, he said, "Why don't we have dinner together before you head home?"

Adam Alexandrow and Sackrey could hardly contain their joy, nodding so eagerly that they resembled pecking birds.

Fanmuir was both amused and bemused by their reaction. It's just dinner. Why are they so over the moon? What he didn't fully grasp was how much this moment meant to them.

For descendants of the Alexandrow lineage, being granted an audience with Fanmuir was an honor in itself. But being invited to share a meal? That was practically a celestial blessing. And the fact that it was Fanmuir who extended the invitation made it all the more special. Even if they had to foot the bill, they considered it an immense privilege.

Of course, Luka Kaster wasn't about to forget his dorm brothers. He made a quick call to the dorm, gathering the group for dinner. Together, the eight of them set off for the finest restaurant near the campus gates.

On the drive back to Paris, Fanmuir had already instructed Luka not to reveal too much about his identity—especially since his "identity" was more of a cover. Luka briefly shared what had happened at home but credited everything to Adam Alexandrow and Sackrey. Around the table, the dorm brothers eagerly toasted the duo. While Alexandrow and Sackrey were naturally bold and forthright men, in Fanmuir's presence, they maintained a respectful and modest demeanor. This restraint won them the admiration of the dorm brothers.

Though Fanmuir no longer indulged in earthly meals, watching his brothers and his subordinates bond, laughing and chatting together, brought a rare smile of contentment to his face.

By the time dinner wrapped up, it was already 8 p.m.

Outside the dormitory, Fanmuir dismissed the brothers first, then handed a few of his specially crafted pills to Alexandrow and Sackrey, along with a few parting instructions. The two, overwhelmed with gratitude, bowed deeply before leaving.

When Fanmuir entered the dorm, he was immediately met with mischievous grins and teasing laughter from his five brothers.

Luka Kaster, mindful of Fanmuir's elevated status, kept his jokes light but couldn't resist teasing, "Caroline called earlier. She's upset you didn't let her know you were back right away. The lady's very unhappy!"

Fanmuir felt a surge of warmth and happiness. He quickly dialed Caroline's number. The phone barely rang before her sweet, melodious voice answered. The fact that she could hear the ring so quickly, even in a noisy bar, made it clear—she had been waiting for his call.

Fanmuir tried his best to push away his group of overly curious friends, who were crowding around him to eavesdrop on his call. Unfortunately, no matter how much he waved them off, they clung to him like a swarm of annoying flies that refused to leave.

Squelching the irritation rising within him, Fanmuir abandoned the casual, haggling tone he'd used with his roommates earlier and instead put on a wide smile. Even though the woman on the other end of the call couldn't see him, he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling up. In a gentle, warm voice, he gave her a quick update on his recent whereabouts and experiences, carefully leaving out the less relevant details.

There was something about Fanmuir's deep, velvety voice that made Caroline's heart race whenever she heard it. Her usual cool, detached demeanor melted away, replaced by a softness and warmth she couldn't explain. She had convinced herself to treat Fanmuir like a younger brother, yet every time they talked, she found herself wanting to act coy, playful, and even a little flirty.

Fanmuir wasn't exactly a charmer—his strengths were in extraordinary feats, not smooth-talking. Yet, despite his lack of skill in banter, Caroline couldn't stop giggling throughout their call.

She loved seeing Fanmuir and adored the steak and potatoes he cooked. But over the phone, she never brought up how much she missed him. Instead, she chose to focus on her daughter, Chloe, and how much she missed him and his cooking.

Every time Fanmuir was about to see Caroline, he'd feel an odd mixture of excitement and nerves. He'd glance in the mirror—something he rarely did—and run a comb through his already neat, short hair.

Caroline, on the other hand, had her own routine. She'd wake up early to tidy the house, do her makeup, carefully pick out an outfit, and finish with a spritz of the pink perfume Fanmuir had given her. That perfume, with its delicate scent and elegant crystal-pink bottle, was her favorite. Every time she held it, she couldn't stop admiring it. Just looking at it filled her with pure joy.

"Chloe! Go check if Uncle Fanmuir is here yet!"

It was impossible to count how many times she'd sent her daughter to the door that morning, even though it wasn't even 8 a.m.—clearly far too early for him to arrive.

From a distance, Fanmuir spotted Caroline's graceful silhouette, with Chloe by her side. A surge of joy swelled within him, so overwhelming it was hard to describe.

Her soft makeup, radiant beauty, and the smile she gave him the instant their eyes met left Fanmuir utterly captivated.

"You're here!" Her voice was gentle and warm, like a spring breeze. She took the bag from his hand effortlessly, their eyes meeting in a brief but meaningful smile. Behind them, Chloe's cheerful chatter created a perfect harmony. The moment felt so natural, like a family welcoming their father home.

As they climbed the steps, Fanmuir couldn't help but notice Caroline's strikingly beautiful figure. Her black leather jacket hugged her curves in all the right places, highlighting her stunning silhouette.

He felt his breath catch in his throat. Completely overwhelmed.

Oh, God, help me!

"What are you standing there for? Hurry up!" Caroline turned back and teased him when she noticed he wasn't following, her voice playful and light.

Caroline's teasing scold and flirtatious glance jolted Fanmuir out of his daze like a splash of cold water. Startled, he wiped his nose awkwardly and trailed behind her like a child caught red-handed.

Caroline, meanwhile, couldn't shake the memory of the moment she turned back and caught that smoldering, unfiltered desire in Fanmuir's eyes.

The air between them felt charged—awkward yet enticing. The tension simmered, deliciously ambiguous and undeniably thrilling. Poor Chloe, blissfully unaware of the subtle emotional undercurrents between the two adults, found herself showered with so much affection that she didn't know what to do with herself.

After lunch, Fanmuir and Caroline dropped Chloe off at her piano teacher's house, where she also stayed as a nanny. With time to spare before Fanmuir's evening shift, they returned to Caroline's villa.

Sitting across from each other, they found that the easy, natural conversation they had on the phone or in front of Chloe now felt oddly stilted. Memories of that morning—when Fanmuir had been caught sneaking a glance at Caroline—hung heavily in the air, adding to the awkwardness.

Even someone as composed as Fanmuir couldn't keep his emotions in check. His heart pounded as his blood rushed, leaving him restless. When he tried to lower his gaze to avoid meeting Caroline's eyes, he accidentally discovered an even better view—her long, smooth legs in full display from this angle.

Caroline, too, realized how unwise it was to sit directly across from him. But why did she feel a strange, inexplicable satisfaction in letting him look?

Though part of her enjoyed being admired by someone she cared for, she was still a woman—and the subtle changes in her body, betraying her emotions, made her cheeks flush. "Hey! You little pervert! Where are you looking?" she chided playfully, her voice carrying a coquettish lilt.

Good heavens! Was she deliberately teasing him? Her words carried no real reprimand, only a hint of flirtation and mischief.

Fanmuir, a 1,500-year-old virgin unaccustomed to such seductive scenarios, wrestled with the storm of emotions raging inside him. After a long pause, he finally managed to say, "How about I play you something on the piano?"

For women, virtuous men often evoke contradictory emotions. On one hand, they wish he'd lose control, breaking all societal norms for them. On the other, they admire his restraint, holding onto principles that make him even more endearing.

Caroline felt touched by Fanmuir's offer, her heart warming to this young man who seemed so pure despite his power. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a faint twinge of disappointment—how confusing it all was!

As Fanmuir's fingers danced across the keys, joyous melodies filled the villa, creating a serene atmosphere. Leaning against the staircase railing, Caroline gazed at him intently, her heart filled with wonder. What a beautiful twist of fate, to have someone so extraordinary playing just for her.

Time seemed to speed by, and as night descended, they reluctantly left the villa and headed to the New York Story Bar.

The loud, bustling bar pulled them both back to reality. They shared a brief, wordless glance before parting to their respective tasks. No words were exchanged, yet so much was understood.