Christina stepped into Philip's office with a soft smile playing on her lips. It had become his sanctuary in recent years—he preferred the quiet rhythm of his home study, only visiting his offices once a week now. He looked up from the file in his hand, and the instant he saw her expression, he set it aside.
"You look happy," he noted, his tone gentle with curiosity.
"Oh, darling," Christina sighed, sinking into the chair beside him—the one he always left open for her, no matter how busy he was. It had become their ritual. She'd drop by when the silence of the estate bored her, and he would always make space for her, even amid chaos.
"She's the one," Christina said, meeting his gaze. "You were right."
Philip's lips curved in quiet pride. There was no gloating—only the satisfaction of a man who'd hoped for the best and been proven correct.
"So, you spoke with her?" he asked.
