Page 38 of Checks & Bonds

Carmen's movements were efficient and practiced as she continued to cook. The sizzle of vegetables hitting the hot pan filled the room with a comforting sound.

"He pay attention to details," Carmen said without looking up from her work. "Not many men do."

I watched her for a moment, the ease with which she handled everything reminding me of my own mother. A pang of homesickness hit me unexpectedly.

Carmen slid the omelette onto a plate and placed it in front of me. The vibrant colors of the bell peppers and onions contrasted beautifully with the golden eggs.

"Enjoy," she said with a satisfied nod.

I picked up a fork and took a bite. The flavors melded perfectly—the sweetness of the bell peppers balanced by the sharpness of the cheese.

"It's delicious," I murmured between bites.

Carmen beamed at me as if I'd just given her the highest compliment in the world. "Good! Food should always make you feel better."

I couldn't help but smile back at her warmth and sincerity. For a moment, amidst all the chaos in my life, there was a small island of peace in this kitchen with Carmen's cooking and kind words.

As I ate, Carmen busied herself cleaning up, humming softly to herself. It was a simple scene but one that brought a surprising amount of comfort.

When I finished the last bite of the omelette, I stood up, feeling a little more grounded than before. Carmen moved swiftly, taking my plate with a practiced ease.

"Mr. Henry told me to tell you that you have free rein of the house except the west wing," she said as she began washing the dish by hand.

"Why?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"He wouldn't say, and I don't question him." Carmen scrubbed the plate with a kind of methodical precision. "But, now that you're fed, it's my time to go. I'll be back to cook dinner. Is there anything else you need?"

I shook my head, my gaze drifting towards the west wing. What could Henry possibly be hiding there?

Carmen dried her hands on a towel and gave me one last warm smile before leaving through the side door. The kitchen felt empty without her bustling presence, and the silence crept back in.

I wandered over to the kitchen window and looked out at the expansive grounds. The gardens were meticulously maintained, a riot of colors that seemed almost too perfect. But my thoughts kept circling back to the forbidden west wing.

What could be so secret that I wasn't allowed to see it?

What was Henry hiding?

12

Henry

The rink was quiet when I arrived, the air crisp and biting. I spotted Liam by the side entrance, hunched over, trying to shield a cigarette from the wind. I raised an eyebrow as I walked over.

"So much for quitting," I said, pulling my bag higher on my shoulder.

Liam exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Needed something to calm the nerves. Big game tomorrow."

"Coach won't be happy if he catches you."

He shrugged, flicking the cigarette to the ground and grinding it under his heel. "I'll take my chances. It's my wife I'm more worried about." He paused. "Speaking of, how was the Imprinting Ceremony? Heard it was quite the event."

I felt a rush of heat at the memory. "Freya's mine now."

Liam's eyebrows shot up. "Just like that? She's cool with it?"

"Doesn't matter if she is or not," I said, my voice hardening. "It's done."

He shook his head slowly. "I'm glad I don't have to deal with that shit."

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