Butler Wayne had gone out to run errands early that morning. When he returned to the villa, he found the servants cleaning a living room littered with broken porcelain. Concerned, he stepped forward and asked, "What happened?"
A worker whispered the morning's events to him. Wayne's eyebrows knit together as he listened, and once the story was finished, he let out a long, weary sigh. He dismissed the employee and turned to call Old Master Harris.
Meanwhile, Quentin wanted to ease Amanda's heavy mood, so he took her to the back garden to sit among the flowers. Amanda clung to his arm, refusing to let go, as if she feared that releasing him would let the sadness rush back in.
"Don't be so depressed over worthless people," Quentin said, gently stroking her hair.
Amanda looked up at him, her eyes filled with a lingering sorrow. Quentin couldn't resist reaching out to pinch her cheek. "Give me a smile!"
Amanda tried to obey, but her lips only twitched; the smile wouldn't come. Quentin chuckled, leaning his forehead against hers.
"Mandy," he whispered, "this is the first time in my life I've felt what it's like to have someone protect me."
Amanda shook her head, the tip of her nose brushing against his. "How does it feel?" she asked softly.
Tickled by the gesture, Quentin pulled back slightly to tweak her nose. "It feels happy. It feels warm."
Since his birth, his family had avoided mentioning his mother's passing. While his father cared for him, there were still moments when the old man would look at him with a distant, haunted expression. His older brother and sister had remained cold and unloving. Quentin had always understood that even if they didn't explicitly blame him, the shadow of the past stood between them.
But today, Amanda had stood in front of him. She had used her "spikes" to drive away those who sought to wound him. Quentin had been strong and independent his entire life, but in this moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. He wanted to rely on her.
Amanda smiled softly, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. "Then will you let me protect you from now on?"
Quentin raised his eyebrows. An image flashed in his mind: a fierce little tabby cat ruffling its fur to protect a large, stoic husky. He couldn't help but laugh.
"Okay," he agreed.
She would be at the front protecting him, and he would be at her back, supporting her. The cool spring breeze drifted through the garden as they embraced, sharing a moment of simple, sweet intimacy.
"Master." Butler Wayne hated to break the atmosphere, but the phone in his hand had been ringing for some time.
Quentin and Amanda slowly separated. "Is something wrong?" Quentin asked.
The butler lowered his eyes respectfully and handed over the phone. "The Old Master is calling."
Quentin's gaze lingered on Wayne for a moment, making the butler feel uneasy. Wayne knew he was meddling, but with the Harris family's greatest taboo being dragged into the light again, he felt he had to inform the patriarch.
Quentin didn't make things difficult for Wayne. With one arm still around Amanda's waist, he took the phone with the other. "You may go."
"Yes, sir," Wayne replied and retreated.
Quentin put the phone to his ear. "Dad."
On the other end, Old Master Harris sighed heavily. "Quentin... are you alright?"
Quentin looked down at Amanda's small hand clasped in his. "I'm fine, Dad."
Old Master Harris's health had been poor lately. He had heard about Javier being hospitalized even before the butler's call. "I don't blame you for this. Javier was the one who overstepped. And your sister-in-law... she was far too out of line. If you don't want to see them for New Year's, don't. Take Amanda back to the Solis family instead."
Quentin heard his father's attempt to keep the peace. He didn't argue, but he knew he couldn't leave the old man alone for the holidays. "I'll handle the arrangements. On the first day of the New Year, I'll bring Mandy to have dinner with you. You should rest and stop worrying about these things."
Knowing his son's decisive nature, the Old Master simply sighed. "Alright. Arrange it as you see fit."
After hanging up, Amanda leaned against Quentin's chest, taking his hand to examine it closely.
"Yesterday you told me you had work to do and sent me home. Did you go off to beat someone?" She looked at the darkening bruises on his knuckles, torn between anger and heartache.
This man always looked so calm, yet when he moved, he was brutal and decisive. He hadn't used any schemes or tricks; he had simply sent Javier to the hospital.
Quentin closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "It's been a long time since I've been in a fight, so it's natural to leave a few marks. I'll be more careful next time."
Amanda's eyes widened. "There's going to be a next time?"
Quentin smiled and pulled her into a hug. "No, wife. There won't be."
Back at the Harris ancestral home, Old Master Harris sat back in his chair with his eyes closed, looking exhausted. Clark Smith approached with a freshly brewed cup of tea.
"Master, your tea."
The Old Master opened his eyes and took a slow sip. As he drank, Clark Smith's eyes seemed to grow brighter with anticipation. Once the cup was half-empty, the Old Master lazily waved Clark away and retreated into his room alone.