Page 33 of King of Ruin

His booming voice echoed through the phone so loudly that Elise instinctively pulled it away from her ear.

"Grace! Our daughter is coming home this weekend!"

A moment later, Grace's excited voice could be heard in the background.

"What? Really?"

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the phone before Grace spoke again, her voice full of excitement.

"Elise, sweetheart, are you really coming home?"

"I am, Mom."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Grace laughed happily. "Kevin, what are you still standing there for? Tell the chef to prepare Elise's favorite dishes this weekend."

Kevin immediately objected.

"The chef? Why would we let the chef cook? I'll cook for my daughter."

Grace scoffed. "You? The last time you cooked, you almost burned the kitchen."

"I was experimenting."

"You were making tea."

"It still tasted good."

"It was burnt."

"It was slightly burnt."

Grace ignored him completely. "No, I'll make the food myself. I'll also prepare the mushroom soup Elise loves and that steamed fish—"

Kevin interrupted immediately. "Don't forget the shrimp. Our daughter loves shrimp."

"I know what my daughter likes."

Listening to the two of them argue over the menu as though she were arriving after years instead of a few weeks made Elise's heart feel warm.

A smile lingered on her face without her even realizing it. No matter how busy they were, no matter how much time passed, Kevin and Grace always welcomed her home with the same excitement. Sometimes, Elise forgot she had been adopted. Because in every way that truly mattered, they had always been her parents.

Just then, a familiar figure stepped into the foyer from the corridor leading to the study.

Elise instinctively looked up.

Xavier was already dressed for work.

His charcoal suit was perfectly tailored, fitting his tall frame as though it had been made exclusively for him. His long black hair had been neatly tied back today, leaving only a few loose strands framing a face so refined that he looked more like a nobleman from another era than the president of a billion-dollar corporation. His high cheekbones and sharp features gave him an elegant appearance, while the thin scar cutting through his right eyebrow was the only flaw on an otherwise flawless face.

His expression remained calm as always.

Not a single emotion could be read from those deep, dark eyes.

Without looking in her direction, he adjusted the cuff of his watch before accepting the briefcase his secretary, Benjamin Carter handed him.

Benjamin followed a respectful step behind, tablet in one hand as he quietly reported the day's schedule.

"The meeting with the European partners has been moved to nine-thirty. Director Sullivan is already waiting at the company, and the legal department has sent over the revised contract for your review."