Skylar trudged up the stairs, her steps slow and unsteady.
Joe stood at the entrance, watching her retreating figure. She looked like she could fall asleep standing up. A faint, amused smile tugged at his lips.
Despite her youth, Skylar lived with the discipline of someone far older—routines, moderation, and early nights. Even at the club earlier, she had stifled her yawns with remarkable politeness. The drive back had clearly taken the last of her energy.
“Should I just leave the money on the sofa?” she suddenly asked, stopping halfway up the stairs. “I’ll collect it in the morning.”
It was then she remembered: her winnings. Her very first substantial earnings—earned not through business, but at a poker table. The irony of it made her chuckle as she turned to Joe.
“I really owe you one. Honestly, I doubt I’ll ever get that lucky again at a poker table in my life.”
She was aware that her success had been a one-time thing. Entering a real casino for similar reasons? That was a slippery slope she had no desire to go down.
Joe raised an eyebrow, a faint teasing glint in his eyes. “A few million made you this happy? Should I take you more often so you can keep winning their money?”
Skylar met his gaze with a grin and shook her head decisively. “No, once is enough. It’s best not to get greedy.”
Money, of course, was something she needed—wanted, even. But she preferred to earn it with skill, not by chance.
Joe studied her for a moment. “You don’t want more money?”
“Not that way,” she said simply. “Money gained by pure luck… it’s easy come, easy go. Best not to get too attached.”
Her words hung in the air for a few quiet seconds before Joe gave a small nod. “You make a good point.”
Without further conversation, the two climbed the stairs to their respective rooms.
After showering, Skylar fell into bed and was out almost instantly. By the time she stirred again, the clock read 8:00 a.m.—she had slept straight through her alarm.
Panic surged. Work started at 9:00.
She scrambled to get ready, rushing downstairs only to find Joe already up, holding something in his hand.
“Have some breakfast before heading out,” he said calmly when he saw her sprinting for the door.
“There’s no time,” Skylar replied, slipping on her shoes. “I ate too much last night anyway. I’m not hungry yet.”
Joe followed her to the door and pressed a small paper bag into her hands. “It’s just a sandwich and some milk. Eat it when you get the chance.”
Skylar hesitated for a moment, then accepted it. “Thanks.”
She had just started her position—being late wasn’t an option.
Once she was gone, Joe’s eyes drifted to the tote bag of money sitting nearby. Skylar hadn’t even glanced at it before leaving.
He chuckled softly to himself, then returned to his seat at the breakfast table.
At Pearlhall Residence, breakfast was always prepared with care, a variety of dishes on offer. Since Skylar had moved in, Joe had gradually gotten used to actually eating breakfast.
As he sipped his coffee, his phone buzzed.
It was a message from Rowan.
Rowan: “She’s not your secretary, so is Skylar the little mistress you’re keeping around?”
Joe: “No.”
Rowan: “Then just a casual fling? Marcus was asking about her last night. Trying to figure out what’s going on between you two.”
Joe’s expression turned cold at the mention of Marcus. A sharp glint passed through his eyes.
Joe: “Tell him not to covet someone he shouldn’t.”
Rowan: “That doesn’t sound like ‘nothing.’ Are you actually serious about her? What about Annie? Everyone knows she’s into you.”
Joe didn’t respond right away. The screen dimmed as the question hung unanswered.
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