Stephen POV
I descended the stairs, my patience already wearing thin. The lingering scent of Maddie’s perfume clung to my shirt, a reminder of the warmth I’d left upstairs. I didn’t want to deal with Tiffany - not now, not ever - but the servant had been insistent.
“She’s downstairs, sir,” the servant who had accompanied me said, avoiding my gaze.
I sighed, shoving my hands into my pockets. What could Tiffany possibly want now? We’d already settled things. The engagement was over, done under my terms, and there was nothing left to discuss. Yet here she was, back again like a thorn I couldn’t shake.
At the bottom of the stairs, the servant bowed slightly. "She’s in the drawing room, sir. Shall I-"
"No," I cut him off, my tone sharper than I intended. "You’re dismissed."
He nodded quic
