LILY
Ethan stood in the doorway, arms folded, expression unreadable. I didn’t even need to ask what he wanted. His posture, the way his eyes darted briefly toward the floor before meeting mine, said everything: trouble.
“Miss Lily,” he said carefully, “Sir has a message for you.”
I crossed my arms, tilting my head. “And he couldn’t deliver it by himself? Why does he always hide behind people? Isn’t he supposed to be the boss?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “He prefers to maintain privacy in matters concerning the household.”
I laughed, sharp and bitter. “Privacy? Or cowardice?”
“Miss Lily—” he began, but I cut him off immediately.
“Don’t even start with warnings, Ethan,” I said, stepping closer. “I don’t care what he thinks I should do. I care about what’s right. And right no
