The night after the proposal, Kingsley sat alone in his study, staring into the fireplace.
The flames danced quietly, casting golden light across the room, but his mind was racing too fast to notice. His fingers drummed nervously on the armrest. His heart pounded, not with excitement this time — but with dread.
He had to tell them.
He had to tell his parents.
For a long moment, he sat frozen, trying to gather the right words, the right explanations. And then — with a deep, shaky breath — he stood, smoothing a hand down his shirt and heading toward the grand, double doors at the end of the hall.
Behind those doors, he knew, his parents were waiting.
The family's kitchen was nothing like a normal home kitchen.
It was enormous — polished marble counters, gleaming brass fixtures, long w
