Jared Quinn squeezed the bridge of his nose with a slight tightness, his long fingers suddenly stopped, and he looked up. "Whose birthday?"
"The young madam's," the butler answered crisply. "The old master said so himself, you wouldn't not know, would you?"
Jared Quinn "..."
He thought about how that woman refused to come back with him, using herself as a bargaining chip, and his chest filled with discomfort. Leaving her with another man felt worse than cutting out his heart and living as a zombie.
"Young master, how about we use the old master or Timmy to bring the young madam back?" the butler suggested tentatively.
After all, if the old master found out the madam was gone, who knows what might happen!
"No need," Jared said as he stepped upstairs, each footstep unusually heavy.
The butler watched Jared Quinn's back as he went upstairs, silently agreeing that the young master was wrong this time.
