New Friend
1338 Words
"Good morning, Miss."
A soft voice accompanied a knock on the door.
Moira groaned softly and stretched under the warm blanket that still wrapped her body comfortably—a feeling of comfort she hadn't experienced in years while living with the Dunne family.
"Good morning, Miss. I am Penelope, the maid Mr. Quinn requested to serve you."
Moira blinked lazily. "Morning?" she muttered hoarsely. She chuckled softly at the sound of her own voice. She rubbed her face, yawned widely, and sat up.
Morning light slipped through the curtains. Her chest felt light. No fear. No shouting. There were no footsteps that made her heart pound with anxiety.
She swung her long legs off the bed and walked to the door.
When she opened it, a young girl stood there, smiling warmly and looking neat. She held a bucket of clear water in one hand and had a white towel slung over her shoulder.
"Come in," Moira said spontaneously.
Penelope smiled with relief. "Thank you, Miss."
"No need to call me 'Miss,'" Moira said as she stepped inside and made way for Penelope. "Just call me Moira."
Penelope looked hesitant. "But—"
"Moira," Moira repeated with a smile and a light tone. "I'm just a guest here."
Penelope nodded quickly. "Okay, Moira."
Moira looked at the bucket and towel. "Do you want me to take a shower now?"
"You can take a shower or just wash your face," Penelope replied softly. "Mr. Quinn is waiting in the study. After that, we’ll have breakfast, and then we have other things on the agenda.”
"Agenda?" Moira furrowed her brow. “This early in the morning?”
Penelope giggled softly. “Mr. Quinn is very scheduled.”
Moira snorted. “I thought rich people slept in and drank expensive coffee while gazing at the world.”
Penelope giggled spontaneously at Moira's muttering.
"Hey," Moira said, pretending to be annoyed. "You're laughing at me."
Penelope gasped and quickly looked down. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—"
Moira laughed. "I'm joking. Relax."
Penelope looked up, surprised. "Really?"
"Yes," Moira said. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
"Thank you," Penelope said softly, her eyes sparkling. "I'll always accompany you."
Moira smiled broadly. "We can be friends."
Penelope looked like she was about to cry with relief. "Thank you, Moira."
Moira stepped into the bathroom. Warm steam filled the room as the water ran. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her small, curly hair was slightly messy, and her eyes were still puffy, but her smile was different.
"It feels strange," she muttered softly. "I'm not afraid."
Behind the door, Penelope deftly arranged clothes on the bed. "Mr. Quinn chose a simple dress," she said from outside. "He said you would be more comfortable."
Moira smiled to herself. "Is he always like that?"
“Attentive?” Penelope hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, but rarely to guests."
Water flowed over her skin, soothing her. Memories of last night flashed through her mind—Aidrian's gaze, their closeness, and the scent that made her feel safe. Her heart beat a little faster, but not because she was anxious.
She stepped out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. "Penelope?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you," Moira said sincerely.
Penelope smiled brightly. "You're welcome."
A few minutes later, Moira stood in front of the mirror. The simple yet luxurious dress was soft and hugged her slim, slightly thin body.
She took a deep breath and said to her reflection, "I have to get up now."
***
Aidrian's office.
"Sit down."
Aidrian Quinn's tone was cold, firm, and emphatic. He stood behind a large, dark wooden desk in a perfectly fitting, exclusive black suit. His blue eyes never wavered from the man in front of him.
The lawyer pulled out a chair and sat with his back straight. "You called me urgently, Mr. Quinn."
"I don't have time for pleasantries," Aidrian cut in. "I want you to handle a case: A divorce."
The lawyer raised his eyebrows slightly. "A divorce?"
"Yes."
"For whom, if I may ask?"
"For someone very close to me."
Silence immediately enveloped the room. The lawyer held his breath. He had worked for the Quinn family for years.
He knew how secretive Adrian was—cold and focused, never mixing emotions with his professional affairs. The words "very close" sounded unusual.
"What's the client's name?" the lawyer asked cautiously.
"Moira MacEvoy."
The name was unfamiliar to him. "The wife of?"
"Olivian Dunne."
The lawyer was silent. “The Dunne family?” He straightened his back. "The ones in the property investment business?"
"The same."
"And you want me to—"
“Help her file for divorce.”
Adrian's tone rose and fell an octave.
The lawyer interlaced his fingers. “Let me be honest, Mr. Quinn. This is not a simple case. The Dunne family is currently on the rise. Although the Quinn family is influential in this country, we need to examine the details of the case. The reasons for the divorce, the evidence—"
"I already told you the reason."
"Abuse?" the lawyer repeated slowly. "Is there medical evidence? Witnesses?"
"Yes," Adrian replied briefly. "And if that's not enough, I'll make sure there is."
The lawyer stared intently at Adrian. "You really want to get involved."
"That's none of your business."
"As your lawyer, it is my business," he replied cautiously. "Since when have you been so concerned with other people's domestic affairs?"
His blue eyes narrowed. The air in the room seemed to tense up.
"Since that person was hurt," Adrian replied flatly. "And since I decided I wouldn't let it happen again."
The lawyer swallowed hard. Aidrian's voice sounded confused.
"Do you have a personal relationship with Miss Moira?" he finally asked.
Aidrian took a step closer. "I'll ask one more time," he said softly. "Are you willing?"
The question hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest.
The lawyer snapped out of his reverie. "Of course," he replied quickly. "I am willing and able. I just need to—"
"I don't care how," Adrian interrupted. "The lawsuit must go through. Cleanly. Fast. There can't be any loopholes for Dunne to use to embarrass her."
"They will fight back," the lawyer said. "Reputationally, financially, and even psychologically."
"I know.
"And you still want to proceed?"
"Yes."
His answer did not waver in the slightest.
The lawyer sighed. "Fine. I'll prepare a strategy. But first, let me ask you one last thing."
"Quickly."
"Is this woman important to you?"
Silence. This time, Aidrian remained silent.
He turned his face to the large window behind the desk. The morning light illuminated his firm jawline. Several seconds passed before he answered.
"She's more than important."
The lawyer froze.
"She's the reason I left everything behind in Pack."
His chest tightened at the words. There was no doubt about that. No playing with words.
"I understand," he finally said, his tone turning more serious. "I will handle this case personally."
"Good."
However, Mr. Quinn, the Dunne family won’t stay quiet. If they find out you’re behind this lawsuit—"
“Let them know,” Adrian interrupted coldly. “The Dunne family’s power is nothing compared to the Quinn family’s.”
The lawyer nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll start today.
"Now?"
"Now?"
"Now," Adrian repeated firmly. "Moira has waited too long."
The name rolled off his tongue so naturally that the lawyer fell silent again. He stood up and straightened his suit.
"I'll contact you as soon as there are any developments," he said.
Aidrian nodded briefly.
The lawyer had taken only two steps toward the door when there was a knock.
A light knock. Hesitant. It was as if the person outside didn't want to disturb him.
"Come in," Aidrian said without turning around.
The door opened slowly. The lawyer stopped walking. Adrian turned around.
His blue eyes immediately looked toward the door. His sharp, eagle-like eyes looked surprised; he didn't blink.
- Writer
