The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air. Nevaeh stood beside the maid in the spacious kitchen, carefully arranging the breakfast tray. She wasn't much of a cook, but she helped where she could—placing the butter, toasting the bread, and making sure everything looked perfect.
The maid glanced at her and smirked. "You look like you belong here."
Nevaeh let out a small chuckle. "I doubt that. I don't think I fit into Mordred's world."
The maid raised an eyebrow. "And yet, here you are, preparing his breakfast like it's the most natural thing in the world."
Nevaeh bit her lip but didn't respond.
Meanwhile, in his room, Mordred stretched lazily in bed. The fever had gone down, leaving only a dull exhaustion. But he felt something else—a strange warmth he hadn't known in years.
A scent drifted through the air. Something… homey.
Was someone cooking?
He sat up, confused. He never had breakfast made for him—not in the way that smelled like actual care. His meals were either ordered, prepared by staff who didn't care much, or skipped altogether because he was too busy.
Curious, he got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.
He stopped at the doorway.
There she was.
Nevaeh, in a simple oversized hoodie, her hair slightly messy from sleep, laughing softly as she placed eggs on a plate.
For a moment, he just watched.
He had never seen something like this in his own home before—someone doing things for him not because they were paid to, but because they wanted to.
He leaned against the doorframe. "Are you trying to make me keep you here forever?"
Nevaeh jumped slightly at his voice, turning around. "Oh, you're awake."
The maid smirked and stepped aside, giving them space. "I'll leave you two to talk."
As she left, she passed Mordred and whispered, "You should hold onto this one."
Mordred's lips twitched.
Nevaeh rolled her eyes. "I just thought you'd need a proper breakfast after being sick."
He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving her. "So, you do care about me, huh?"
She crossed her arms. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
Mordred chuckled and sat at the table, watching as she placed the tray in front of him. "You should move in."
Nevaeh's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
He smirked, picking up a piece of toast. "It's peaceful when you're around."
Nevaeh scoffed. "That's just because you were sick."
Mordred took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Maybe… or maybe I just like waking up to you being here."
Nevaeh's heart skipped a beat.
This man was dangerous.
And yet, as he took another bite with that satisfied look on his face…
She wondered if, maybe, she was just as dangerous for him.
Nevaeh barely had time to react before Jade's voice cut through the peaceful morning like a knife.
"I knew it!" Jade shrieked, standing at the doorway with wild eyes. "I knew this journalist was up to something… and here she is, eating breakfast with you like she owns the place!"
Nevaeh blinked, her fork pausing mid-air. She turned to Mordred, who sighed as if he had been expecting this.
"Jade," Mordred said flatly, rubbing his temple. "How did you get in?"
Jade scoffed, flipping her long, perfectly styled hair. "Does it matter? I have access to your house for a reason—because we have a connection—" she turned her gaze to Nevaeh, eyes burning with jealousy, "—unlike her."
Nevaeh clenched her jaw but stayed silent. She wasn't about to be dragged into whatever drama Jade was creating.
Jade's eyes trailed over her, then narrowed. "So, what is it, Mordred? Is she that hot? That sexy that you can't take your eyes off her?"
Mordred exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. "Jade, if you're here to make a scene, you can leave."
"Oh, I'm making a scene?" Jade's voice rose. "You're the one playing house with a random journalist while the entire industry watches! What do you think people will say, huh? That the great Mordred has finally fallen for a nobody?"
Nevaeh gripped her glass of water tightly. That one stung.
Mordred, however, didn't even flinch. Instead, he smirked lazily, resting his chin on his palm. "You seem jealous."
Jade let out a dry laugh. "Jealous? Please. I'm just reminding you that you and I have things to do, events to attend, contracts to fulfill—"
Mordred cut her off. "Right. Contracts." His voice was mocking. "Because that's what you care about, isn't it?"
Jade faltered, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Mordred stood up slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. He walked toward Jade, his expression unreadable. "Listen carefully," he said in a low voice. "I don't belong to you. I never did. Whatever fantasies you have about us, let them go."
Jade's nostrils flared. "So you are choosing her."
Mordred chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm choosing peace, Jade. And you are the opposite of that."
Jade clenched her fists, her whole body trembling with anger and humiliation. She turned to Nevaeh with a glare. "You think you've won? You think this is over?"
Nevaeh met her gaze without fear. "I think you should leave before you embarrass yourself more."
Jade let out a sharp breath, then turned on her heel, storming out of the house.
The moment the door slammed shut, silence filled the room.
Nevaeh turned to Mordred, raising an eyebrow. "You sure know how to pick them."
Mordred sighed, rubbing his face. "Don't remind me."
Nevaeh smirked and took a sip of her coffee. "Well… that was entertaining."
Mordred groaned. "I need another nap."
Nevaeh just laughed, shaking her head. Drama followed this man like a shadow—and somehow, she was being pulled right into it.
Mordred leaned against the counter, watching Nevaeh with amusement as she spoke.
"She's mad because she thought I was some kind of one-night-stand girl with you," Nevaeh said, folding her arms. "Get this straight to her—I was here to take care of you, so she could calm down before she explodes."
Mordred smirked. "Oh, trust me, she's already exploded. There's no calming her down."
Nevaeh rolled her eyes. "Well, at least tell her the truth before she starts spreading nonsense about me."
Mordred stepped closer, tilting his head. "And what if I don't?"
Nevaeh scoffed. "Then I'll be known as the desperate journalist who sneaks into celebrities' houses for personal reasons."
Mordred chuckled. "That does sound scandalous."
She shot him a glare. "Not funny."
He sighed, crossing his arms. "Look, I don't owe Jade any explanations, but if it makes you feel better, I'll handle it."
"Good," Nevaeh muttered, rubbing her temple. "Last thing I need is some drama queen ruining my reputation."
Mordred leaned down slightly, lowering his voice. "Are you sure that's the last thing you need?"
Nevaeh narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He smirked. "I think you secretly enjoy being in my world."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
He shrugged. "You could've left anytime last night. But you stayed."
Nevaeh opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. He wasn't exactly wrong.
Mordred leaned even closer. "Maybe you're not just here to take care of me. Maybe… you're curious."
Nevaeh's heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let him see it. Instead, she huffed and turned away. "Whatever. Just talk to her before she starts a war."
Mordred grinned, watching her walk off.
"Interesting," he muttered to himself. "Very interesting."
As Nevaeh walked out the door, Mordred's maid, Ms. Helena, turned to him with a knowing smile.
"You should deny that woman access," she said firmly.
Mordred arched a brow. "Jade?"
"Yes, her," Ms. Helena scoffed. "All she knows is how to throw herself at you. She has no real affection for you—just her own desires."
Mordred exhaled tiredly and leaned against the kitchen counter. "I know that."
Ms. Helena stepped closer, crossing her arms. "Then why do you still let her barge in like this? A woman like that doesn't deserve access to your life."
Mordred ran a hand through his hair. "It's complicated."
Ms. Helena shook her head. "No, it's not. You just don't want to admit the truth."
He gave her a questioning look. "And what truth is that?"
Ms. Helena smirked. "That Nevaeh is perfect for you."
Mordred chuckled dryly. "Oh? And how did you come to that conclusion?"
Ms. Helena sighed. "Because I saw it. I saw her last night, Mordred. Do you know what she did while you were asleep?"
Mordred raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Ms. Helena's voice softened. "She made sure you were comfortable. She adjusted your pillow, checked your temperature, even covered you properly with a blanket when you stirred. That woman cares, Mordred. Not because she has to, but because she wants to."
Mordred listened silently, his fingers drumming against the counter.
"And that's not all," Ms. Helena added. "I also saw the way she looked at you while you were sleeping."
His eyes flickered with curiosity. "And how exactly was that?"
Ms. Helena smiled knowingly. "Like a woman who is secretly in love."
Mordred's heart did something strange in his chest, but he masked it with a smirk. "You're reading too much into it."
Ms. Helena chuckled. "Am I?"
Mordred turned away, suddenly feeling the weight of her words.
Was she right? Was Nevaeh secretly in love with him?
And more importantly... why did the thought of it make him feel something?
Mordred sighed, rubbing his temples as he listened to Ms. Helena. The way she spoke about Nevaeh made something stir in him—something he wasn't sure how to handle.
"She treated you like something precious to her," Ms. Helena continued, her voice warm but firm. "Her affection for you was something else."
Mordred leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "She was just being nice."
Ms. Helena let out a soft laugh. "Nice? Mordred, I'm a mother. And even if I'm not your official guardian, I've worked with you for long enough to know you."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Last night, I saw something I've never seen before—you looked peaceful in your sleep."
Mordred paused. Peaceful? He never felt peaceful. Not in his world.
Ms. Helena placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "That's not just nice, Mordred. That's care, that's comfort… that's love."
Mordred exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "You're making it sound like a fairy tale."
Ms. Helena smirked. "And maybe it is… but don't people like you deserve a happy ending too?"
He scoffed but didn't reply.
"And besides," she added playfully, "she's a very beautiful woman. Stunning, actually."
Mordred chuckled. "You sound like you want to set us up."
Ms. Helena raised an eyebrow. "Why not? She's more adorable than Jade, after all. And let's not even compare personalities."
Mordred smiled, shaking his head. "Now you're just being shady."
Ms. Helena grinned. "I'm being honest. Nevaeh has a perfect body—her curves are insanely sexy, and her face? Gorgeous. Just the right mix of elegance and innocence."
Mordred clenched his jaw. He already knew all of this. He had seen her, had watched her more times than he'd admit.
"Isn't it perfect?" Ms. Helena teased.
Mordred stayed silent for a moment before muttering, "Perfect… but dangerous."
Ms. Helena tilted her head. "Dangerous?"
Mordred met her gaze. "Because once I want something… I don't let go."
Then don't let it go....she replied.
Hold unto her till your last breath... that's what you have to do Mordred..she added.