Chapter 32: Help Arrives

Marla held onto Miles’ hand, stopping him from ushering Daisy into the room. When they arrived just moments ago, Miles had looked anxious, almost frantic and that alone told Marla everything she needed to know. The thing they had all worked so carefully to avoid... had happened again. "You know, Miles..." she said, her voice low but steady, "Mr. Kingsley always told us not to make decisions on our own when this happens. His instructions were clear... we follow them, no matter what." Miles stood still, jaw tight, eyes flicking toward the closed door at the end of the hall. Behind it was a storm waiting to wake. "But Marla..." he started, almost in a whisper, "both of us know... if we don’t act now, it might take a week... maybe even a month before he comes back." Marla’s grip on his wrist didn’t loosen. Her expression didn’t waver either. "I know," she said quietly. "But if we push the wrong way, we might lose him for even longer." She glanced at Daisy, who stood a few steps behind them, confusion and nervous energy radiating from her like a soft hum. "We are not even sure if she is the key to this whole madness." Miles shook his head, the crease between his brows deepening. "I’m sure. She has to be something. Sir was so anxious earlier... he couldn’t wait for her to arrive. It’s like... he believes she’s the answer." His voice lowered, more to himself than to her. "Even if she’s not, she’s still part of it." Marla studied his face for a moment, then turned toward the hallway again. The silence that followed was thick, charged with the weight of too many possibilities. "Let’s just pray she doesn’t break under the weight of it." She looked at Daisy again, then sighed weakly. Daisy frowned. She might not have caught every word, but she wasn’t deaf or stupid. The way Marla’s eyes flicked to her, the whispers... it was obvious they were talking about her. "Excuse me," she said, stepping forward. "If you’re going to talk about me like I’m not standing right here, at least include me in the drama. What exactly am I supposed to break? Is there a problem?" Marla blinked, caught off guard. Miles cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly as panic started creeping in. "Mrs. Kingsley—" Daisy immediately held up her hand, stopping him mid-sentence. Her eyes sharpened. "Did you just call me Mrs. Kingsley?" Her voice held a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Wait... did you both know?" She looked between them, stunned. "You knew about the marriage?" Miles hesitated, then gave a small nod. "We... We know most of the important things when it comes to Mr. Kingsley’s personal affairs. It’s part of the job, really." He looked like he was about to go on, perhaps to reassure her, or maybe to explain how much they actually knew but Daisy held up her hand again, firmer this time. "So, you’re saying... both of you," she pointed between them, her brows drawn in disbelief, "are trusted more than his own family?" The silence that followed wasn’t denying it. Miles shifted uncomfortably, Marla’s expression unreadable. Neither of them spoke, and that alone was enough of an answer. Daisy blinked, visibly thrown off. "That doesn’t make any sense. His family seemed nice. Warm, even. Why would he hide the fact we already registered our marriage from them but not from you?" Her voice wasn’t accusing, just genuinely confused. She glanced between the two, her mind racing now. "Is there something I don’t know?" Marla exhaled slowly, choosing her words with care. "Miss Daisy... It’s not that we know everything. But Mr. Kingsley... he keeps very few people close. And when he does, he... guards things in layers." Miles nodded. "He doesn’t share easily. Not even with them. It’s not about trust... it’s more like... protection." "Protection?" Daisy echoed. Miles hesitated, then finally said, "There are things about him... that he believes would only worry the people he loves. And worrying his family... that’s the last thing he’d ever want." Daisy didn’t reply right away. Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, brows knitting in thought. Then, with a slow breath, she looked back up. "Okay," she said softly. "Then I guess I’m about to discover what he’s been hiding all this time." Miles and Marla exchanged a glance, one of silent agreement, like they’d finally reached the point they couldn’t avoid any longer. Miles took a step forward, his voice quieter this time, less stiff. "We need your help, Mrs. Kingsley..." Daisy turned to him slowly, her expression unreadable. The title still felt strange on her ears, especially now that it was being spoken so freely by people who, just moments ago, had acted like they didn’t know anything. She nodded, then took a deep breath. "Let’s see what secret this pervert igloo is trying so hard to hide..." With that, she stepped forward and pushed the door to the hotel room open. The soft click echoed faintly as she entered. It didn’t take long to spot him. Theo was slumped on the couch, head tilted back against the cushions, fast asleep. His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled, the top two buttons undone. His usually sleek hair was messier than usual, and faint shadows lined the skin beneath his eyes. Daisy stood still a few meters from the couch, arms crossed. "Hmph..." she muttered, brows pulling together. "Still the Ice King I know..." She glanced around the room, taking in the otherwise orderly space until her gaze landed on a small, pastel-colored box on the table. Her brow arched automatically. "Wait... is that... macarons?" she muttered, stepping closer with narrowed eyes. "He eats sweets? Seriously?" She crouched a little, eyeing the pastel colors inside the open box on the coffee table. Her arms folded again, and she tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Impressive," she murmured. "Judging by his cold, brooding, emotionally constipated vibe, I figured he only consumed black coffee, sarcasm, and maybe the souls of interns." She glanced back at Theo, still fast asleep, and whispered, "But macarons?" Quietly snickered, she folded her arms again as she studied his peaceful face. A beat passed before a flicker of mischief lit up her eyes. Then suddenly, she shouted, "Mr. Kingsley! I am here!"