Chapter 3: The Seductive Woman

Gregory placed his teacup down, his gaze absentmindedly drifting toward Smiltle and Vivian. The mother and daughter had finally concluded their negotiation over the outfit, but there was still a trace of unwillingness in Smiltle's eyes.

Richard stretched and spoke lazily, "Hey, Greg, are you busy tomorrow?"

Gregory raised an eyebrow slightly. "Yes. I also have an appointment at Lily's house."

Smiltle immediately turned her head. "You're going there too?"

Gregory nodded. "Yes. There are some things I need to discuss with your Aunt Lily."

Vivian glanced over, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Could you give Smiltle a ride? She gets out of school in the afternoon—it should be just in time."

Gregory leaned back slightly, smoothing the cuff of his sleeve. "No problem."

Smiltle rested her elbows on the table, looking doubtful. "Are you really that free?"

Gregory smiled. "Of course. And even if I were busy, I could always make time."

Smiltle frowned slightly. She wasn't sure if she liked this idea. But between walking a long distance and riding in Gregory's car, the latter seemed like the better option.

"Alright, then," she said, her tone still a little cautious.

Gregory tilted his head, his smile vague. "You don't sound too excited."

Smiltle shrugged. "It's just that… you know, I could go by myself."

Vivian chuckled softly. "But having someone drive you is more convenient."

Smiltle couldn't argue with that.

Richard shook his head, his voice carrying a teasing note. "Greg, your goddaughter doesn't seem too thrilled to ride with you."

Gregory let out a quiet chuckle. "That's fine. I'll tell her a story on the way."

Smiltle narrowed her eyes. "What story?"

Gregory propped his chin on his hand, feigning deep thought. "A long one. But… let's save it for tomorrow."

Smiltle squinted. She didn't like this secrecy one bit.

But in the end, she let it go.

After all, tomorrow was still a long journey ahead.

---

The next morning, Smiltle woke up to the soft light of dawn. She didn't have morning classes today, so she could take things slow. But that didn't mean she was entirely free.

Breakfast was already set on the table. Vivian sat there, sipping tea while reading the newspaper.

"Good morning, Mom."

Vivian looked up and smiled. "Good morning."

Smiltle pulled out a chair and sat down, her eyes sweeping over the plate of bread, eggs, and cold cuts. Everything was just as usual. She picked up her utensils and started eating.

"Have you prepared your outfit?"

Smiltle chewed slowly, not answering right away.

Vivian remained composed. "If you want to change your mind, I can still pick another one for you."

Smiltle swallowed and shook her head. "No need. I'll wear what we agreed on."

Vivian smiled faintly. "Wonderful."

The family continued their breakfast in silence, the only sounds being the turning of Richard's newspaper and the clinking of cutlery against plates.

When Smiltle finished eating, she left the table and returned to her room. She stared at the blue dress her mother had chosen. It was shorter than her usual preference, but not overly so. Smiltle sighed, muttering something under her breath, then started getting dressed.

---

That afternoon, as soon as Smiltle stepped out of the school gate, she spotted a familiar car parked nearby. Gregory leaned against the door, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed.

"Get in," he said.

Smiltle crossed her arms, eyeing him. "You're early."

Gregory shrugged. "Habit."

She got into the car, shut the door, and buckled her seatbelt. Gregory started the engine, and the car rolled forward along the cobbled street.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Gregory was the first to break the silence. "Want to hear a story?"

Smiltle rested her head against the window, gazing outside. "You said that yesterday. What's it about?"

Gregory chuckled lightly. "A story about people who never back down."

Smiltle glanced at him. "Sounds like something you'd read. And I bet it's boring."

Gregory didn't argue. "Maybe. But you might find it interesting."

Smiltle blinked. "Go ahead and tell it, then."

Gregory steered the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Do you know about those who refuse to accept their fate?"

Smiltle leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. "I think everyone has a little bit of that in them."

Gregory chuckled. "Then let's see if this story changes your mind."

The car moved through the streets, with only Gregory's steady voice and Smiltle's thoughtful gaze filling the space.

As he told the story, he occasionally glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

Today, she was wearing a blue dress—its color suited her more than he had expected. Smiltle usually picked muted tones, soft browns or grays, but this blue gave her a different air—not bright, but gentle, like a lake reflecting the early morning sun.

He didn't comment on it, just kept driving, but the thought lingered in his mind.

Smiltle, for her part, didn't seem to notice him. She rested her chin on her hand, watching the scenery pass by, occasionally furrowing her brow as if analyzing his story.

Gregory continued calmly.

"… And that's why that man never bowed to anyone."

Smiltle blinked. "What did he do afterward?"

Gregory smiled faintly. "Guess."

Smiltle narrowed her eyes. "If it were you, what would you do?"

Gregory idly ran a finger over the steering wheel. "If it were me… I wouldn't let myself be cornered in the first place."

Smiltle scoffed. "That's not an answer."

Gregory smirked but didn't reply.

She turned away, no longer pressing him.

The car kept moving, passing streets lined with towering trees. For a fleeting moment, Gregory's thoughts drifted toward Smiltle.

Before long, she would grow up.

And when that time came, he wasn't sure if he'd still be able to keep her by his side, or if one day, she would walk away without looking back.

But that was a matter for the future. For now, he was still her godfather. And he still had time.

Gregory smirked slightly and continued his story. A quiet understanding in his mind told him that the road to Lily's house was a long one.

Smiltle kept listening, though her gaze carried thoughts of her own.

---

When Gregory's car pulled up in front of Lily's house, Smiltle's parents had already arrived. The place hadn't changed—a small yet elegant mansion, surrounded by a garden full of deep red and cream-colored roses.

As soon as Smiltle stepped out, her mother's voice drifted from the front porch. Vivian and Richard were chatting with Lily, all three looking at ease.

Gregory shut the car door, adjusted his sleeve, and turned toward the woman standing near the entrance.

Lily Fairburn—a name that carried beauty and effortless charm.

At 35, time had only made her more alluring. She had auburn hair, lightly curled at the ends, draping carelessly over her slender shoulders. Her emerald green eyes gleamed—part playful, part composed. Her lips, painted a deep wine red, curled into a smile that was both sultry and sharp.

Today, Lily wore a form-fitting black dress—simple, yet accentuating her every curve. The neckline dipped slightly, just enough to be enticing without being excessive. A delicate pearl necklace rested on her collarbone, refined and elegant.

Gregory stepped up the porch, unaffected by her presence. Lily tilted her head slightly, smirking.

"Gregory, you're four minutes late," she murmured, her voice smooth, carrying the cadence of a musician with a silky tone.

His gray eyes revealed little as he nodded. "Lily."

Vivian turned to her daughter. "Smiltle, go inside. Aunt Lily and Gregory will keep us waiting otherwise."

Smiltle glanced at Gregory but said nothing. She understood and stepped past the door into the parlor.

Gregory looked at Lily. "Shall we talk?"

Lily chuckled softly. "Of course."

Together, they walked toward the garden, where no one could overhear their conversation.