The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 450

**TITLE: The Perfect 450**

**Ella’s POV**

As we rolled up to the doctor’s residence, I felt a flutter of anticipation mixed with a hint of trepidation. I had envisioned a sleek, modern mansion, perhaps adorned with expansive glass walls and pristine white facades that gleamed under the sunlight. Instead, what greeted us was a charming, slightly eccentric Victorian house, its quaintness nestled snugly among a cluster of trees, like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered.

Before we even had a chance to knock, the door swung open, revealing Tony’s warm smile. But it was the sudden appearance of a plump orange tabby cat that truly caught my attention. The little creature came bounding down the staircase, its bell jingling cheerfully around its neck, and promptly rubbed against our legs, demanding affection.

“Tom! Shoo!” Tony exclaimed, waving his hands in a playful manner to shoo the cat away. “I apologize for that. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.”

“Not at all,” I replied, chuckling softly as I watched the tabby climb a few steps before flopping over dramatically, exposing its fluffy white belly in a display of sheer trust. Just then, a single orange paw shot out from between the balusters, playfully swatting at me as I followed Tony further into the house, a smile tugging at my lips.

Stepping into the dining room, I felt a wave of warmth wash over me. Even Alexander, who often wore an air of skepticism like a second skin, paused in his tracks, his eyes widening in astonishment at the lavish spread laid out before us.

It was nothing short of a culinary masterpiece. Tiny Cornish game hens, each adorned with a delicate sprig of rosemary, sat regally on platters. There were little hand-crafted quiches that looked irresistibly soft and golden, and a vibrant nicoise salad bursting with color. The entire house was infused with the tantalizing aroma of pie, leading me to wonder if one was indeed baking in the oven, waiting to be unveiled.

“Do you have a private chef or something?” Alexander asked, turning to Tony, his curiosity evident.

Just then, Anthony emerged from the kitchen, a dishtowel in hand, wiping his palms with a satisfied grin. “Yeah, it’s called his husband,” he laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. He trotted over, planting a kiss on Tony’s cheek before extending his hand to Alexander, and then to me.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, my voice warm with appreciation as I took his hand.

“Thank you! Please, make yourselves comfortable before the food gets cold,” Anthony urged, gesturing towards the table with an inviting smile.

We settled around the table, and for a delightful stretch of time, we ate and engaged in easy conversation. Anthony and Tony proved to be exceptional hosts, ensuring our glasses were never empty. The lighthearted banter, especially regarding Dr. Evelyn, added a delightful humor to the atmosphere, making it all the more relaxing.

As we savored the meal, Tony finally broached the topic that had been lingering in the air like an uninvited guest.

“So,” he began, passing around a dish of roast fingerling potatoes for anyone who wanted seconds, “Anthony and I were discussing your little… dilemma.”

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