“He always listens. Usually, just calling his name is enough for him to come running. But today... we’ve called and called, and Snow still hasn’t come. Maybe he—”
“He’ll be fine, Jasper. We’ll keep looking. We’re definitely going to find him.” Camilla tried to sound certain, even though she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more—Jasper or herself.
If they couldn’t find Snow, she had no idea how to make this better for him. Ever since Snow joined their family, Jasper had changed. He laughed more, worried less. Camilla saw the sparkle in his eyes that had been missing for too long.
She knew searching for a lost puppy in the pouring rain wasn’t exactly optimistic. Still, she couldn’t bear to let Jasper give up hope. As long as they kept at it, maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance.
Jasper seemed to feel a little better and picked up his energy, calling Snow’s name by her side. They circled the house, checked every bush and corner, but there was no sign of their little dog.
Instead, the rain picked up. The wind howled, ripping their umbrella apart. Cold rain pelted Camilla’s face, blurring her vision until she could hardly keep her eyes open.
Over the sound of rain crashing on concrete, a car engine roared. A Maybach rolled toward them, headlights sweeping over Camilla and lighting up the pool of water at her feet as it pulled to a stop.
The window slid down, revealing a man with sharp features and dark, striking eyes—Lance. His presence, clean and commanding, was impossible to ignore.
The bright headlights created a perfect line between them. Camilla stood soaking wet, hair plastered to her cheeks, while Lance looked utterly composed, protected by luxury and warmth.
“Camilla, are you looking for something?” His voice was low, rough around the edges, like vinyl static in an old movie.
“I’ve got things to do. Not really in the mood for small talk.” Camilla kept it brief. She barely knew her neighbor, having met him just once or twice. Honestly, she never expected Lance to stop and start a conversation.
“My butler picked up a dog outside today. Could it be yours?” he asked, not moving from his seat.
Jasper’s face lit up right away. “Is the dog you found white and really little? Really friendly?”
“Get in. I’ll take you to see if it’s yours.”
Jasper gave a happy gasp and grabbed for the car door. Camilla hesitated. She glanced at the spotless leather seats, then at her damp, muddy clothes, and felt a wave of embarrassment. Lance would never lie about something like this. He had no reason to. Still, letting Jasper and her messy self climb into that car seemed... a lot.
Camilla gently pulled Jasper back. “It’s not far. We can just walk, really.”
The car pulled to a stop, and a butler came running out, umbrella ready to meet them.
Lance opened the back door and crouched to lift Jasper out. Camilla hurried to protest, “He’s all wet, Lance. You don’t want his clothes wrecking yours. Let me—”
Lance didn’t answer, scooping Jasper up anyway. He looked back at Camilla, calm and direct. “He calls me ‘uncle’ now. We’re family, aren’t we? Camilla, you don’t have to stand on ceremony.”
A bodyguard held an umbrella over Camilla as she stood just a little bit dazed, watching Lance carry Jasper right into the house. It felt like her brain had short-circuited. Was he really trying to get close to her? That couldn’t be true. He was the Charles family heir—half the city’s elite would do just about anything for an introduction. Why would he...
From the porch, Lance called back, “Why are you just standing there? Need me to carry you, too?”
He sounded completely matter-of-fact, like he’d actually come back and scoop her up if she asked.
That thought sent a shock through Camilla. She jumped forward, nearly tripping over herself to catch up.

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