The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 365

Chapter 180-1

Chapter 180-1

+25 Poins

wake to the soft, rhythmic patter of light snow dusting the multi-paned bay window and the unmistakable, sweet aroma of cinnamon buns drifting up the wooden staircase.

I stretch lazily under the blankets, feeling a deep, satisfying warmth down to my toes.

On my left wrist, the heavy silver cuff rests cool against my skin, its intricate feather motifs catching the pale, light. Smiling to myself in the quiet room, I run my thumb over the single word Al ways hidden on the inside of the band before finally slipping out of bed and throwing on a thick fleece robe.

Downstairs, the ground floor is bathed in a gentle morning light reflecting off the blanket of snow

outside.

Titan is the first to greet me. He trots over from his spot near the Christmas tree, his heavy tail thumping a steady rhythm against my shins as he nudges his massive, cool nose directly into my open hand.

“Merry Christmas, Titan,” I whisper softly, leaning down to scratch him right behind his soft, floppy ears. He lets out a low, contented groan, leaning his full weight against my legs. “I hope Santa brought you tons of treats.”

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Evelyn calls out from behind the kitchen island, where she’s carefully

pouring hot liquid from a ceramic kettle into a wide stoneware mug.

I pad into the kitchen, rubbing the last traces of sleep from my eyes. “Merry Christmas, Evelyn.

Smells unbelievable down here.”

She hands me the mug with a warm, knowing smile. “I poured you a cup from the blue pot – decaf dark roast. Don’t worry, I remembered your little passenger before I brewed my own standard battery acid.”

“Thank you,” I laugh softly, taking a slow, comforting sip. It’s rich, cozy, and perfectly warm against the crisp air of the house. “Where’s Locke Rex?”

“Outside clearing the porch steps and the path to the woodshed before the midday drift comes in,” she says, gesturing toward the back door with a wooden spoon. “He’s been up since seven. Man doesn’t know how to sit still, especially when there’s a shovel around.”

“He likes keeping busy.”

“That he does,” Evelyn says, her eyes warming as she looks at me over her own mug. “Did you sleep well? The coastal wind didn’t keep you up?”

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Chapter 180-1

+25 Point

“Not at all. I don’t think I’ve slept that deeply in months,” I say, glancing down at the silver cuff on

my wrist.

Evelyn’s sharp eyes catch the movement, and a small, smile touches her lips, though she doesn’t ask. There’s an understanding between us that feels as comfortable as an old sweater.

Right on cue, the heavy back door swings open, letting in a crisp, icy gust of ocean air alongside Locke. He’s wearing his dark wool coat, snow dusting his broad shoulders and hair like fine golden

sugar.

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He stomps his heavy boots on the woven mat, his sharp gaze sweeping the room before

A immediately settling on mine. The moment his eyes find me standing there in my fleece robe with my coffee mug, his intense, brooding expression softens completely.

“Morning, baby,” he rumbles, pulling off his heavy leather gloves and setting them on the bench before walking straight over to me.

He completely ignores the cold air clinging to his coat as he wraps his broad arms around my waist, pulling me against him to press a lingering, icy kiss to my forehead that leaves my skin deliciously tingling.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers into my hair.

“Merry Christmas, Lord Reginald Arthur,” I whisper back.

Locke lets out a low, gravelly hum against my ear, his large hand coming up to rest warm over my lower stomach through the robe. “Watch it, or I’m taking you right back upstairs.”

“Alright, you two, save the romance for after presents,” Evelyn chuckles, setting down a platter of warm, sticky cinnamon buns on the coffee table by the tree. “Titan’s already sniffing the packages.” We move into the living room, settling around the large pine tree loaded with vintage glass ornaments, red ribbons, and glowing yellow lights. Titan immediately posts himself directly between Locke and me, keeping a watchful eye on every wrapped box like a four-legged security guard waiting for an accidental drop of food.

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