Chapter 26: Moving to the Estate

The man's voice was low and raspy.

He partially propped up his body, one hand gripping Willow’s waist to create space between them.

Once Willow scrambled off, she leaned against the side, not daring to lift her eyelids even a fraction.

If she shifted her gaze even slightly right now, she would absolutely see something she shouldn't.

She had to respect her uncle!

As she made a silent vow, Julian spoke: "Keep twisting it, and it’ll break."

"What’s breaking?" Willow asked, dazed.

Wasn't... wasn't Uncle Julian perfectly fine?

In the next second, the bathrobe belt she had crumpled into a ball was pulled away by the man.

"This."

Willow: "..."

It seemed she had been letting her imagination run a bit wild.

Sterling Kingston’s voice rang out again at that moment: "Julian, are you done washing yet?"

Accompanying the voice was the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

Terrified, Willow scrambled to her feet and squeezed herself into the bathtub.

Fortunately, her uncle hadn't been taking a soak, otherwise there wouldn't even be a place to hide.

"Uncle Julian," she whispered, "remember to block Grandpa Sterling. The tub isn't deep; it’s easy to be seen."

"Mm."

Julian responded, tied his belt, and caught sight of the scattered clothes out of the corner of his eye.

They were the clothes the girl had brought in earlier, dropped during their struggle.

The old man had come too fast for her to manage them.

He picked them up.

A hoodie, long pants, and the last two items were...

Underwear.

Pure white.

Perhaps the bathroom, freshly used, was a bit stuffy.

The hot, humid steam was rising, and he felt a stir of restlessness.

Just as he tucked the clothes away, Sterling twisted the door open.

"You brat, don't you know to answer your father?"

How long had he been shouting?

"Next time for sure," Julian said, intending to brush past him and leave.

Sterling was fuming at his attitude. Just as he was about to lecture him, he suddenly noticed something odd about the bathrobe.

"Julian," he stared for a moment, then beamed with joy, "Have you finally found a girlfriend?"

Julian knew Willow was feeling guilty and didn't want to keep her on edge in there.

He wanted to leave first, but the old man was determined to block the door. "Still trying to hide it from me? Someone’s hair is stuck to your clothes."

Julian looked down and indeed saw a long strand of hair.

It was Willow’s.

Now that the two were living together, such a thing was normal; being secretive would actually make it look suspicious.

He said directly, "It’s Willow’s."

"That excuse might fool others, but it won't work on me," Sterling said. "Don't I know your quirks? Your OCD is worse than anyone's. It was already hard enough for you to accept Willa moving in; usually, you probably insist on using specific bowls and chopsticks for meals."

The more Sterling spoke, the more he felt something was up.

"Where is she hiding? I'm an open-minded man; I don't have high standards for a daughter-in-law, as long as the gender is female. Call her out so I can meet her."

Listening to their conversation, Willow’s heart was leaping into her throat.

Was Uncle Julian usually that fastidious?

She had never felt it.

Daily necessities and the like were always handled casually.

And then there was Grandpa Sterling...

He was convinced Julian had a girlfriend just from a single hair.

She had accidentally stripped her uncle just now.

Now she was guiltily hiding in the tub.

No matter how you looked at it, her "unholy intentions" were glaringly obvious.

Indeed, she couldn't stay here.

Even if it meant a longer commute from the estate, at least she would be away from her uncle.

It would also be a way to honor Grandpa Sterling’s affection.

...

Julian didn't say much to Sterling; he simply pushed the old man out and partially closed the door.

"The delivery is made. You can leave now."

Standing in the living room, Sterling looked at his son’s calm composure and began to doubt himself. "Really not hiding anyone?"

Had he hallucinated a daughter-in-law out of sheer desperation?

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Willow lives here. Even if I had someone, would I be so indiscreet as to bring her back?"

The heat from the bathroom hadn't faded yet; he wanted to go back and take a cold shower.

His tone grew sharper: "I have no plans to marry for the time being."

Sterling automatically ignored the latter sentence; his eyes were full of longing for his son’s marriage. "Then should I take Willa back to the estate? That way, no one will disturb you."

Julian said coldly, "She doesn't want to."

That day, he had specifically taken a long route back from the estate.

Willow had consequently dropped the idea of living there.

"Grandpa Sterling." Willow’s voice sounded from behind the two men.

Sterling turned and saw her, surprised. "Willa, you were home?"

Then he really had been overthinking.

"Yes." Willow bit her lip and walked up to them. "I..."

"Willa, did you just shower too?" Sterling’s gaze fell on her hair.

The strands were a bit damp, yet she didn't quite look like she had just showered.

It looked more like she had accidentally brushed against something wet.

Willow instinctively reached for her hair. In the bathroom, her head had pressed against her uncle’s chest, picking up some water droplets.

Feeling guilty, she could only admit: "Yes."

Upon hearing this, Sterling’s expression changed instantly.

"Julian," he said sternly, "come with me."

"Grandpa Sterling?" Willow was confused.

Had she said something wrong?

"Willa, wait here a moment. I need to have a word with this boy." Sterling pointed to the things he had left at the entryway and said gently, "I brought these for you. Go see if they're to your liking."

Willow nodded and walked obediently to the entryway.

Sterling glared fiercely at Julian, gesturing for him to go to the balcony.

Closing the balcony door, Sterling spoke first: "Have you been bullying Willa?"

The two had showered at the same time, and her hair was on him.

If one smelled the body wash, it carried a sweet fragrance.

He was a man of the world; it was impossible not to suspect a hidden story.

Julian’s brow furrowed slightly.

He didn't feel that the matter between the two of them needed to be hidden.

But Willow was unwilling.

If he admitted it today, she might run away tomorrow.

He had been able to keep her here before because the relationship was still tightly under wraps.

But once Sterling knew, it would be different.

She looked obedient and timid, but she actually had a mind of her own.

Letting out a breath, he said, "No."

Hearing his answer, Sterling relaxed.

"Fine, I believe you. You aren't a liar," he still cautioned. "Her grandfather trusted me enough to hand her over; I don't want you doing anything foolish."

Julian’s voice was indifferent: "I know."

He knew, but whether he would act on it or not was up to him.

When Sterling returned to the room, he had reverted back to the kind, cheerful, and talkative old man.

"Willa, that dried pork is made by the estate’s chef. Try it and see if you like it."

"I heard this pillow is especially good for dancers to sleep on."

"And incense to relieve stress."

Looking at each item, Willow’s head sank lower and lower.

"Grandpa Sterling," she said slowly, "I’ll move back to the estate with you."