CHAPTER 444: CHAPTER 444: RESTRICTIONS OVER (PART 4)

The skies were only partly clouded—enough to scatter the light but not to dim it. A cool breeze moved across the terrace, sliding over the glass rail and stirring the water at the infinity pool’s edge in small, shifting ripples~. The fireplace at the center of the seating area sat cold, its polished stone undisturbed.

Don and Miss Claire took the same side of the long cushioned bench, a little over half an arm’s length between them. Close enough for her scent—something exotic, rich, faintly sweet—to reach him without effort.

He ignored it.

The moment they settled, she was already lifting her tablet, fingers moving with minimal motion as the screen came to life. "Now then."

She scrolled through a few screens, eyes barely leaving the device. "I have made sure all the necessary papers for your new business venture are in order. I have already sent them to your email."

Looking up from the tablet, her expression unchanged, she added, "Though I must say, it is not the type of business I expected to be doing legal paperwork for. May I ask what encouraged this purchase?"

When Don had first brought it to her attention, she’d only asked the essentials—numbers, requirements, names. He’d taken that as her being all business. But now... maybe she’d been holding the question until she had the documents in hand.

Either way, he wasn’t about to give her the whole truth.

"I got it mainly because of the individuals tied to it," he said, tone smooth, unhurried.

Her head tilted in a subtle nod. "I see. I shall trust you to ensure it doesn’t lead to any bothersome cases."

’So that’s all it is.’ Her interest wasn’t in the venture itself—it was in whether it would come back to bite her. Considering she’d handled the legal side, it made sense. Still, it was a little disappointing.

"I’ll do my best."

"That will suffice."

She set the tablet down on the white marble between them and eased back into the cushion, one leg crossing over the other in a motion too precise to be careless. Even relaxed, she looked like she was being photographed. Her gaze moved past him toward the skyline, where the cloud cover thinned in patches, letting shafts of sunlight cut across the city.

"And what of your status at SHU?" she asked, voice calm. "Mr. Xiao has been getting more impatient in his emails. Though..." her lips twitched faintly, "I will say I quite enjoy seeing him that way."

Don leaned his elbow into the armrest to his right, posture turning into a loose slouch. "They’re offering compensation for my earlier dismissal, a few more perks along with the conditions we agreed on before—so it’s not really a bad deal."

A quiet, short chuckle slipped from her. "A lot of prospects could only dream of getting such a deal at a state-level university like SHU."

He smirked faintly. "I suppose you’re right. I tend to think more about the people there than the deal itself. Still... I plan on accepting, since schools will be up and running fully again."

"Wonderful. Email me the contract once you’ve signed, and I will ensure it all checks out before finalizing it with the school’s legal department."

The terrace doors slid open with a low mechanical hum~. Winter stepped out, tray in hand. A neat arrangement of chopped fruit and assorted snacks sat on it, each portion separated into small porcelain dishes.

"Mrs. Bright asked that I bring this to you. Please enjoy," Winter said, setting the tray between Don and Miss Claire with the same measured precision she applied to everything.

"Thank you," Miss Claire replied, her eyes briefly on the spread. "But it is not necessary. I already ate my lunch, and I tend not to eat between meals."

She turned to Don. "If you will not be having any, could you please give them to my daughter? She does love her snacks."

Winter’s voice was as level as ever. "That will not be possible, as your daughter—along with Summer—left not too long ago."

The faint ease in Miss Claire’s posture vanished. She sat upright at once, gaze tightening as she exhaled through her nose. "Did they say where they were going?"

"Miss Sylvia’s exact words were: we’re going on a girls’ shopping trip, tell my mom I’ll be home by six."

Another sigh, softer, as Claire shook her head. Her fingers moved toward the tablet she’d set aside, the screen flaring to life again under her touch. "I see. I suppose it’s just another attempt to avoid going with me this evening."

"You two had plans for tonight?" Don asked, watching the way her thumbs moved over the glass—quick, deliberate taps without pause.

"Yes," she said without looking up. "I had arranged for us to attend a gala at the Mayoral residence. Sylvia was... not enthusiastic. She rarely is, with formal events."

Don leaned off the armrest. "They couldn’t have gotten far. I’m sure Winter can still reach them."

Winter’s hands were folded in front of her, stance unchanged. "That is true. Given the time they left, I predict they are still in the elevator heading down to the lobby."

Claire’s fingers stilled. She looked at the screen one last time before locking it. "No. It’s quite alright. If she doesn’t want to go, it’s not my place to force her. I’ve just messaged the driver to meet her at the entrance and insist on escorting them."

Winter inclined her head. "As you say. If nothing else, I shall be taking my leave." She turned crisply, her footsteps fading toward the terrace doors~.

Claire’s eyes stayed on the skyline, but something in her manner had shifted. Not enough for most to notice—but Don did.

"You seem disappointed she’s not coming," he said.

She turned to him, a faint smile curving at the edges. "I am indeed. Her presence at such events always makes them a little more bearable. But I can’t fault her. More often than not, she is the only girl her age there... so I imagine these events are quite boring to her."

"Most likely," Don agreed. "It’s hard, when you’re young, to appreciate your parents’ attempts at spending time together."

Her smile thinned, almost disappearing. "I suppose that is true. Eventually she will have her own life to live. It’s not my place to dictate." The words were even, but the undercurrent was clear enough.

Don waited a moment before saying, "Most parents would be happy to see their rebellious teenager grow up and leave. And the ones who aren’t... usually end up being far too strict. She’s lucky to have someone as understanding as you."

Claire’s eyes lingered on him a beat longer than usual before she nodded once. "Thank you."

Silence drifted in, broken only by the faint rush~ of air past the terrace glass. She studied him briefly, gaze moving from his shoulders down to the cut of his shirt, then back up.

"Hmm."

He raised an eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

"Not quite," she replied, still assessing. "I was wondering how you’d look in formal attire—because I intended to ask if you’d be open to accompanying me. It would be a shame to allow my extra invitation to go to waste. And I don’t know anyone else who would like to attend."

’Wait... is she actually asking me to go with her, or just filling a seat?’ Either way, it was a door worth walking through.

"Oh?" Don’s smile edged upward. "And what’s your verdict? Do I hold the qualities fit to accompany you?"

For once, her own smile grew past the usual reserve. "It’s hard to say. You would certainly look appropriate in formal attire. As for your mannerisms... well, I don’t imagine they could be much worse than Sylvia’s."

Don chuckled. "Coming from you, that’s high praise."

"Then it’s settled," she said, rising a little in her seat. "I would suggest you change into a suit at once. The event begins at six, but other functions start earlier—and I would like to change before we go."

’This isn’t what I had planned for tonight... but progress is progress.’

"Right," Don said aloud, standing. "Then I’d better go get changed. Please feel free to call Winter if you need anything."

"I shall," she replied. "I’ll wait here and enjoy the weather a little longer."