Cal's POV
As I watched my mother turn to Kyrie, her eyes gleamed with a newfound interest. She gave that practiced, regal smile I’d seen countless times, the one that meant she was plotting something.
“Kyrie, dear,” she said, her voice smooth and inviting, “why don’t you stay for lunch? It’ll give you a chance to get to know us better. And I’m sure Cal would appreciate it.”
Kyrie glanced at me, a mixture of surprise and nervousness flashing in her eyes. I gave her a reassuring nod, squeezing her hand subtly. I knew what she was thinking—my mother wasn’t exactly known for her warmth, especially with new people. And especially not with people who didn’t come from the “right” lineage. But I wanted Kyrie here, wanted to show her that no matter what my family thought, she was mine.
“Sure,”
