CHAPTER 588: LAURA THE DREAMER. 2

A very dazzling morning followed the peaceful night.

As a mother, Laura was very grateful that Martin had slept all through the night without a single bout of midnight crying.

Even more surprising was that his calm slumber stretched well into the morning, giving her ample time to freshen up and finally take the tour she’d been wanting for around Luca’s beautiful, immaculate home.

The house wasn’t like anything Laura usually saw, not even in the best and most luxurious properties showcased on TV.

It looked hybrid and uniquely custom, as if designed by an architect who was fond of balancing classical and modernity.

At the start of her tour, she couldn’t quite tell if the structure was a ground home or a low-rise.

She counted two bedrooms on the ground floor, including her own, and naturally assumed there would be a few more upstairs as well.

But to give Luca full privacy and respect his personal space, Laura decided to limit herself to exploring only the lower floor.

After visiting every place her legs could carry her, Laura eventually noticed how pristine the majority of the house was.

So pristine, so empty, as though no one had ever stepped into those areas since the day they were built.

Was the house just completed last week? Or were the cleaners simply that good?

Laura came to the conclusion that truly, not many people had been in this house. If that were the case, this was indeed a privilege.

Retracing her steps, Laura went to the room that had caught her eye the most.

It was the kitchen. It was very big and spacious, roughly twenty-five feet by thirty, with a homely wooden feel unlike the sleek, sterile designs of nowadays.

This was the kind of kitchen any woman would actually be willing to cook in, not out of duty, but out of pure pleasure.

Twirling lightly at the center by the dining area, Laura gauged her height and mass against every element.

She felt gladdened by how perfectly she seemed to fit in, as if the kitchen had been designed for her all along.

Then an idea sparked in her head, and she immediately reached for the refrigerator and the pantry.

Okay, Luca was living alone, so there was no need for him to store large amounts of food, but what was present was still remarkable.

Good at recollection, Laura quickly rushed back to her room to check on Martin.

Since the boy was still sound asleep, she thudded back to the kitchen and slipped on an apron.

Normally, Luca didn’t have to bother himself with breakfast, as Manuela usually made sure of a reminder whenever they met and always brought something along.

So, after his daily routine at the gym up in the house—way before the mother and child even woke up—he had come down to the kitchen and taken a banana about an hour before Laura began her little adventure.

Now he was ready to leave, but since he could hear sounds coming from downstairs, Luca decided he should come down and check.

He thought it would be the sound of Martin playing with a toy, but the noise came from the kitchen.

And along with it, a pleasant smell drifted through the air.

Laura greeted Luca with a warm smile when he appeared at the doorway.

She was making fluffy pancakes with scrambled eggs and lightly fried bacon.

That kind of delicacy was a peak breakfast experience, capable of making anyone’s day golden from the start.

Guests weren’t supposed to actually cook for their hosts, but Luca couldn’t bring himself to reject the act of friendliness.

He also agreed to stay a little while and join them for breakfast before leaving.

The plan was to return by noon before the scheduled ride to Trampos.

Breakfast was eventually served, and Martin was awake by then but still a bit dazed by reality, rubbing his eyes and stretching softly in his mother’s arms.

The meal tasted outstandingly delicious, so much that Luca couldn’t afford to speak this time over his food.

He only spoke twice: first to thank Laura for the meal, and again when his plate was completely clean.

Laura’s question midway through the meal came as something unexpected.

She asked Luca what kind of clothes he would wear to the headquarters, and he answered simply that he’d go in the same outfit he was leaving with.

But then he asked why she wanted to know.

Laura thought for a moment before deciding not to lie.

"I want to match Martin’s with yours," she answered.

What harm would it cause for a child to match outfits with one? It was harmless, even charming in its own innocent way.

Luca chuckled at her answer, seeing no reason to agree or disagree. It was her son’s clothes, after all, and she could do as she pleased.

Still, he found the idea both funny and oddly adorable.

But little did the young man know that Laura was already spinning a very important branch of her web.

That simple act wasn’t just a cute gesture. It was something deliberate, carefully crafted to serve her own selfish needs.

When Luca left half an hour after breakfast, leaving her and Martin alone in the house, the woman happily helped herself upstairs, breaking the promise she’d made not to go there.

She surveyed every single room, including Luca’s own, leaving the man with absolutely no privacy.

Laura didn’t care if there were cameras watching her every step.

From what she had gathered, Luca didn’t seem like the kind of man who would bother with such tight security anyway.

And even if there were cameras, nothing about her actions would raise suspicion for him to review security.

From running her hand across the wall and taking in long, deep breaths of the room’s scent, Laura obsessed and obsessed.

She even opened the wardrobe with one hand, Martin resting lazily in the other.

Luca’s clothes were neatly lined there—jackets, shirts, and trousers arranged in disciplined order, yet not to perfection.

The bed was made, but still rough around the edges, the pillows misaligned and a vest sprawled across it as if he’d left in a hurry.

Laura frowned and smiled at once, rocking the gurgling child in her arm while her eyes wandered.

She noticed a cupboard beside the stand and decided to check it out.

Perhaps she might stumble upon a deadly secret about this young man.

But there were only bulletins, travel cards, a pair of unused cufflinks, and a folded letter with no address.

There was nothing dangerous or revealing enough to thrill her curiosity. It left her oddly disappointed.

The table was next, a simple wooden one that seemed to bear more weight than its design.

Laura approached it carefully, moving softly to make sure she wouldn’t leave a single trace that could betray her intrusion.

On the table, she saw a couple of books, a curious mix of standard literature and fantasy novels.

Laura’s eyes widened the moment she recognized the familiar titles. It seemed Luca was interested in her favorite franchise too.

It was the first thing so far that showed they had anything remotely in common.

Every single work spread across the table was something she had read, and in that moment, she imagined how wonderful it would be to discuss those stories with him.

But her gaze soon shifted, drawn to something else among the clutter on that table.

It was a framed photo Laura wished she hadn’t seen.

It was a two-year-old photograph of Luca and her late fiancé, Ansel.

Both men were smiling wide, dressed in their racing suits, drenched in sweat and triumph, with fireworks exploding in the Monacan night sky behind them.

Laura’s heart sank at the sight of Ansel’s face.

Her expression quickly turned cold and neutral as memories clawed at her chest.

She looked immediately at Martin to see if the boy might somehow recognize his biological father, but the child only had his fingers in his mouth, staring curiously at the ticking wall clock instead.

With a heavy lump caught in her throat, Laura turned the photo face down, unwilling to look at it any longer.