Stephen lounged on the couch, his long legs casually propped up on the coffee table, exuding an air of confident ease.
Summer's lips curled into a pout, her frustration barely concealed.
She slipped into the bedroom, and in a corner where Stephen couldn't see, she stuck out her tongue and scrunched her face into a playful grimace.
There wasn't much to pack, so Summer quickly got to work.
Just then, Ethan walked in and asked, "What should we do with Irene, sir?"
"What?"
Summer's ears perked up, and she was visibly startled.
'I thought Stephen wasn't interested in Irene at all? How did she end up here so quickly? What's going on? Is Stephen one of those people who says one thing but does another?'
Stephen's sharp gaze flicked toward Summer, his relaxed expression turning icy in an in
