The path leading from the garden to the villa was covered with a large white plush carpet.
Artificially scattered rose petals adorned the surface.
Ethan Sterling sat on the left side of the carpet, dressed in a black shirt with loosely fastened buttons, revealing his elegant collarbones and the faint outlines of his muscles.
His long legs stretched out, holding a notebook as he browsed through files, occasionally teasing the girl beside him like one would a cat.
Seraphina Redgrave lay on the carpet, her head resting on Ethan Sterling's legs, clutching a newspaper from this morning.
Every now and then, Ethan Sterling pinched Seraphina Redgrave's cheek or gently stroked her seaweed-like hair.
It was a scene of tranquility.
The sunlight wasn't blinding, casting a gentle serenity over the two in the garden.
In truth, Seraphina Redgrave was not there voluntarily; she had been forcibly dragged onto the carpet by Ethan Sterling into this position.
Pervert!
