Unwanted preparation
Hope Torres left the office that evening, with tired muscles and a migraine even though she did more thinking than working, maybe that was the problem. The day had been too long for her.
She barely noticed the tiredness settling in, all through work, maybe it was because of the weird snacks that came with Ethan's breakfast. She had to ask her assistant if he knew what they were. No idea either. Besides that, she handled the rest of the day herself, mostly. But now that she was on her way home, exhaustion was settling in.
When the car finally pulled up to the mansion, the first thing she noticed was the unusual scattered movement of the servants. They were rushing around, adjusting things, dusting corners that people rarely paid attention to, and moving things to different places
She stepped out of the car before the driver could even open the door for her.
The moment she entered the house, a maid quickly approached, taking her bag and coat. Hope barely acknowledged it, her eyes already scanning around.
The first change she noticed was the potted plant by the entrance. The polka dot plant she had personally picked out was gone, replaced by living stones—beautiful but one of the weirdest choices in her opinion. She frowned. The staircase gleamed, looking finely scrubbed like someone was preparing to host a royal guest.
What’s the occasion?
Her question was answered a moment later when she spotted Georgiana walking out of the kitchen, a box of barely-used plates in her hands.
Before she could even wonder what the woman was up to, Georgiana handed the plates off to a passing servant.
“Uh, you can give these away,” she said casually. “I’ll bring out the new ones.”
It seemed a certain someone has called to inform his beloved mother of his arrival.
Her lips curled slightly in irritation. So it WAS true—he was coming back.
Her gaze moved toward the living room, where her father sat, flipping through a newspaper, completely unbothered by his wife’s theatrics. It wasn't a new thing that her would father let his second wife do whatever she wanted as long as it didn’t inconvenience him. He's such a simp for her. A spineless simp.
Hope scoffed under her breath and turned toward the stairs. She had no interest in staying for this ridiculous spectacle.
“Hope, dear,” Georgiana called in a sweet voice. “Welcome home. Long day, I assume?”
She ignored her and kept walking.
“Actually,” Georgiana continued, “I could use your help.”
She paused, then slowly turned back around, and didn’t even try to hide her frown. Why won't everyone just leave her alone?
“All the servants are busy, and my back is killing me,” Georgiana said with a small pitiful smile. “Would you mind helping move the old utensils out of the kitchen?”
Hope blinked, looking at the woman like she's grown two heads, “You’re joking.”
Her father finally looked up from his newspaper, hand on his glasses.
“As you can see, I just got back from work. I’m exhausted.” she added. “And besides, it’s your son coming back, not mine.”
She turned to leave, but Georgiana’s voice followed her again. “Why do you hate my son so much?” she asked, sounding genuinely hurt anyone would think she's innocent. “Since I married your father, you’ve been hostile toward us. What have we ever done to you?”
“When did ‘I’m tired’ become ‘I hate you and your son’?” She met Georgiana’s gaze with cold eyes, “Which, by the way, isn’t wrong.” With that, she walked up the stairs, leaving Georgiana standing there, speechless.
---
It's 10 PM and the entire household was in chaos.
Georgiana had been anticipating this moment for years. Hearing her son’s voice over the phone earlier, confirming that he was coming home, had filled her with overwhelming excitement. She had wasted no time in making sure everything was perfect.
The floral arrangements in the foyer had been replaced with white lilies and blue hydrangeas—Noah’s favorites. Every detail of the house was being altered to make him feel welcomed, and loved, like the royalty she believed her son is.
Hope watched from the second floor, leaning against the railing.
A servant carried a tray of expensive crystal glasses toward the bar. The dining hall had been set up with the finest china and shiny silverware. The entire house had been transformed, as if a king was returning from war.
All this for a man they haven’t seen in seven years.
She scoffed.
A few minutes later, she turned and disappeared down the hall to her room.
---
Downstairs, Georgiana was giving orders left and right.
“The candles,” she instructed one of the maids. “I want more candles on the dining table.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And make sure the lighting is warm, but not too dim,” she continued, barely pausing. “I don’t want my son to feel down from the heavy atmosphere.”
The maid nodded quickly and hurried away.
Julián finally set his newspaper aside, stretching slightly before rising to his feet.
He caught the attention of a maid walking past the table.
“call my daughter to come to my study,” he ordered. “And bring us some tea.”
Before the maid could move, Georgiana was suddenly at his side. “No need for that,” she cut in, dismissing the maid with a wave before turning to him. “I know you want to apologize to her for this morning,” she said gently, “but there's no need. That will only make her more uncomfortable—and make her hate me more, and I know you don't want that.”
Julián frowned slightly.
She reached for his chest, smoothing her hand over it soothingly. “Let me talk to her myself. Maybe we can finally start patching our relationship from there.” She smiled softly, tilting her head. “Just trust me, hmm? You can go back to reading.”
Julián studied her for a moment before sighing. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “Of course, we women understand each other perfectly.”
With a small nod, he sat back down, flipping his newspaper open again. “Alright. If you say so.”
She pressed a brief kiss to his cheek before pulling away, satisfaction glinting in her eyes as she left him to continue her arrangement.
That little brat has no idea what's coming her way.