Although Elena no longer managed thepany, she still sent people to handle the Rainsworth rtives and countless social obligations.

    She also maintained warm rtions with the wives of various corporate leaders so their husbands would find cooperation easier.

    Many times, Elena had bent over backward just to stay on good terms with those women.

    Remembering this, the housekeeper couldn''t suppress her sense of injustice and told Wren, "Mr. Rainsworth, all the things you''re doing now used to be Mdm. Elena''s burden."

    Wren, slumped on the couch, snapped his eyes wide open at her words.

    Startled by his sharp gaze, the housekeeper stepped back but did not apologize.

    Wrencked many strengths, yet at least he wasn''t hot-tempered; he didn''tsh out.

    "As the Rainsworth family''s daughter-inw, she was supposed to do those things."

    “But Mdm. Elena is divorced from you now," the housekeeper shot back without hesitation.

    Wren was leftpletely speechless.

    He changed the subject. "New Year''s Day is almost here. We should prepare a proper family gathering. Go find Elena and ask her to handle the arrangements."

    The housekeeper remained rooted to the spot.

    "You''d better go yourself, Mr. Rainsworth."

    She knew perfectly well that even if she went, Elena would not n a thing.

    Wren and Elena hadn''t spoken in days; when they did meet, they treated each other as strangers.

    His brows knit together. "Is it that hard to follow orders now? Remind me who''s the boss here, you or me?"

    The housekeeper bowed her head, but her tone held a hint of defiance.

    "Mdm. Elena is the one who pays my sry."

    She honestly didn''t know where Wren found the nerve to keep ordering her around.

    Wren''s mouth twitched again. "Fine. Very well."

    Rising to his feet, he strode outside, deciding to confront Elena himself.

    Since the divorce, Elena''s life had been blissfully carefree-no more banquets, no more empty small talk. She doted on her grandsons, sipped coffee, arranged flowers, went shopping, and simply savored life.

    She felt as though she had grown younger by the day.

    Snow nketed the grounds. The two little boys were outside with the housekeepers, ying in the drifts, while Elena sat nearby with a cup of coffee, watching them fondly.

    "Be careful. Don''t let the cold nip your fingers," she called.

    "Understood," the housekeeper replied.

    Both children were bundled in thick winter coats and even mittened hands, so there was no earthly reason for them to feel the cold.

    When Wren stepped onto the veranda, the first thing he saw was a tableau of quiet, domestic warmth.

    Noticing his approach, the housekeepers exchanged curious nces before turning to Elena, who lounged in a chair, delicately sipping her coffee.

    "Mdm. Elena."

    Elena had seen Wren the moment he arrived, yet she chose to act as though he were invisible.

    Even when the housekeepers addressed her, she remained utterly unmoved. "Watch the children, and mind your own business."

    "Yes, Mdm. Elena."

    As Wren drew nearer and caught Elena''s words, an awkward flush crept onto his face.

    He had hoped Elena would speak first, but after a long silence, she offered nothing.

    With no alternative, Wren cleared his throat and began, "New Year''s Day is almost here. Do you have any ns? Should we bring the children home for a couple of days, liven the ce up?"

    Elena didn''t even lift her eyelids; she merely covered a yawn.

    "A lively house? Aren''t you the one who loathes crowds and small talk the most?"

    In years past, Wren had preferred

    solitude, shunned social

    engagements, and disappeared for

    days, teaving every burden-family,

    "Must you always speak in that snide tone?"

    Annoyed, Wren strode forward and scooped little Lucas into his arms. "Come, let Grandpa hold you."

    Lucas immediately resisted, wriggled free, and dashed behind Elena, peeking out at Wren with guarded eyes.