After concluding his strategic chat with Cole, Merlin began pacing around his living space with nervous energy, his usually sharp mind feeling strangely adrift and uncertain.

Lucas, who had been standing attentively nearby, noticed his employer’s unusual behavior and inquired with genuine concern threading through his voice, “Mr. Blakely, are you searching for something specific?”

“I need to go upstairs and take a refreshing shower,” Merlin replied, his voice carrying an odd tension.

Lucas felt confusion settle over his features as he glanced meaningfully at Merlin’s still-damp hair and offered a gentle reminder, “Mr. Blakely, you completed your shower just a short while ago.”

Merlin froze mid-step, the realization striking him like cold water. After finishing his work responsibilities today, he had indeed returned to his mansion and immediately stepped into a steaming shower. He hadn’t even bothered to properly dry his hair before descending to meet Lucas, since an urgent document had demanded his immediate attention and review. Just after he completed that essential paperwork, Cole’s message had materialized on his phone, launching them into their detailed discussion about the Craig family situation, which had stretched uninterrupted until this very moment.

Merlin glanced down at his comfortable bathrobe and issued new instructions with determination, “I’ll change into appropriate clothing. Please prepare the car immediately—we’ll be departing for Willow Lane very shortly.”

“Certainly,” Lucas responded promptly, efficiently arranging both the vehicle and the necessary security detail before positioning himself in the living room to await Merlin’s descent.

However, thirty long minutes crawled past, and Merlin still hadn’t appeared on the stairs.

Lucas found himself checking his watch repeatedly, genuinely puzzled about what could possibly be requiring so much time for a simple clothing change.

For more visit g?ον?s.

Just as his bewilderment reached its peak, his phone burst to life—Merlin was calling.

Lucas answered with practiced speed, his voice maintaining its respectful tone, “Mr. Blakely, do you have specific instructions for me?”

“Lucas, I need you to come upstairs immediately.” Merlin’s voice carried an unusual edge of frustration.

Lucas bounded up the stairs without a moment’s hesitation. Upon stepping into Merlin’s spacious bedroom, he felt his breath catch as the chaotic scene before him registered fully.

Expensive clothing lay scattered like fallen leaves across every surface—the polished floor, the perfectly made bed, the elegant chairs—while Merlin sat rigidly on the plush sofa, his expression darker than a gathering storm, his intense gaze boring into Lucas with unsettling focus.

“Mr. Blakely, wh—what exactly is happening here?” Lucas stammered, his usual composure crumbling as words seemed to abandon him entirely.

Merlin, his fury radiating through every tense muscle, demanded with barely controlled anger, “Lucas, why are all the clothes you’ve prepared for me so ugly?”

Lucas felt his heart hammering against his ribs as both grievance and frustration washed over him in equal measure. Weren’t these very clothes all personally selected by Merlin himself, chosen according to his own preferred styles and trusted brands?

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