John Brown carried Lucy Campbell downstairs, and immediately, a man stepped out from the shadows and handed John a set of keys.
John knew this man was Lucy Campbell’s bodyguard. With Lucy living here, perhaps the upstairs and downstairs were also occupied by bodyguards. Truly extravagant.
Taking the keys, the bodyguard quickly disappeared back into the darkness, and John carried Lucy straight into the elevator.
Grace Lopez’s building also had three households per floor. Grace’s was in the middle, with Lucy’s to the left. Using the keys, John opened the door to Lucy’s apartment, turned on the lights, and took a look around. All the furniture was newly bought—everything was brand new. The efficiency was impressive. Indeed, having money solves many problems.
Seeing Lucy sleeping soundly, John didn’t wake her. Instead, he directly carried her into the bedroom, carefully laying her down on the bed.
As Lucy lay on the bed, her arms were still clinging to him. John had to slowly pry her hands away.
Standing up and preparing to leave, he hesitated briefly, then went back to remove Lucy’s shoes. As for whether her clothes were comfortable to sleep in, John decided not to intervene—he certainly wouldn’t dream of undressing her and changing her into pajamas.
The air conditioner in Lucy’s home hadn’t been turned on, so the room was a bit warm. John turned on the air conditioner, adjusted it to a suitable temperature, pulled a blanket over Lucy, and then quietly retreated, turning off the lights as he left.
The sound of the front door closing woke Lucy, who opened her eyes, a hint of seductive drowsiness lingering in them. She rolled over gently, closed her eyes again, and hugged another pillow as though she were embracing John. A sweet smile appeared on her face.
When John got home, Grace Lopez hadn’t gone to bed yet. She furrowed her brows and immediately said, "Why are you back so late?"
John shrugged and replied, "After dinner, we went to sing karaoke. Everyone was having fun, so it ran a bit late."
"Seriously? And Mr. Smith too? You all went to such a complicated place at night?"
"Haha, everyone was happy. What could I do? I couldn’t possibly kill the mood."
Grace understood this was a way for leaders and employees to connect, but with Lucy Campbell involved, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. "You made sure Mr. Smith got home safely, right?"
"Very safe. Ah, I just realized I took her keys with me. I’ll go return them to her."
"This late, you’re going back just for that?"
"She lives next door."
"What?" Grace exclaimed in surprise.
"Didn’t you know? She already moved in next door to us. And Emily Jenkins, that girl, too. One on the left, one on the right—both of them are now our neighbors."
Grace’s eyes widened. It took her a moment to recover before she said, "I didn’t know."
"Looks like we’ll have two more freeloaders in the house. Forget it—tomorrow morning will be fine to return the keys. Time for bed." John then put an arm around Grace’s shoulders, his hand slipping down to rest directly on her chest.
Even though they had been husband and wife for a few days now, Grace still couldn’t handle intimacy outside of the bed. She immediately pulled his hand away, nervously glanced toward Sandra’s door, and said, "Stop it! Sandra just went back to her room. You reek of alcohol. Hurry and take a shower."
"What’s there to feel embarrassed about? You’re my wife, and I’m your husband." John’s hand reached out again.
"No way!" Grace, like a thief caught in the act, quickly pushed John’s hand away and bolted back into the bedroom.
John couldn’t help but smile. Grace, this woman with such a confident exterior, turned out to be so bashful in such matters. But he rather liked it—if she wasn’t comfortable with her husband, she would certainly be even less so with other men.
After a quick shower, John returned to the bedroom wearing nothing but his underwear.
Grace blushed at first, then scolded, "Can’t you be more mindful? Sandra is still here. If she happens to come out, how awkward would that be?"
John wanted to retort that Sandra wouldn’t feel awkward at all if she saw him , considering how casual she acted around him. But, of course, he wouldn’t say that. Climbing into bed, he said, "Alright, I’ll be more mindful in the future."
He embraced Grace, his hand slipping directly under her nightgown to rest on her chest. Grace didn’t stop him this time but blushed with embarrassment as she nestled into his arms and softly said, "Don’t mess around, okay?"
"Got it. Otherwise, I’ll be the one suffering." John truly didn’t dare to cross the line. It was Grace’s inconvenient time of the month—getting her worked up would leave him frustrated with no way to follow through.
In the past, with other women, there were always alternative options for release. But with Grace, even the basic missionary position made her unbearably shy. There was no way she’d consider anything else. So, John decided to spare himself the frustration.
The next morning, John was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Grace, already washed up, was in the bedroom doing her makeup. Although she was naturally stunning, as the head of her company, maintaining her image was crucial, so a touch of makeup was necessary.
Sandra yawned as she walked into the kitchen and gave John a little kick.
"What’s wrong with you? Why so tired?" John looked at her, puzzled.
Sandra huffed, "It’s your fault for coming home so late last night!"
John chuckled, "Your sister didn’t scold me, but you’re giving me a hard time?"
"My sister is my sister. I’m me. If I say you’re late, then you’re late. Come back earlier next time! And even then, you don’t bother doing anything useful. I couldn’t sleep well because of you."
"What do you mean by ’useful’? How did I mess with your sleep?" John was baffled.
Sandra’s face suddenly blushed. She coughed lightly as if to cover something up, then rolled her eyes at him and said, "You still dare to ask? I was waiting for you to give me that foot massage you promised! And when are we going to put that ’plan’ of yours into action?"
"Fine, fine. Tonight, we’ll start. Deal?" John felt Sandra’s morning complaints weren’t just about this but decided to humor her anyway.
Sandra immediately nodded, "Alright! Tonight it is."
"What are you two whispering about over there?" Grace walked out of the bedroom and noticed Sandra standing by John, speaking in hushed tones.
Sandra quickly turned her head with a playful smile and said, "I’m just watching what my brother-in-law is cooking."
"You didn’t brush your hair or wash your face, and you’re already thinking about eating. Go freshen up!"
Sandra tugged at her hair, tilted her head, and asked John, "Brother-in-law, do I look that bad right now?"
John gave her a once-over. Though her hair was unkempt, and her face unwashed, Sandra’s natural beauty shone through. He smiled and said, "Sandra, you look great no matter what."
Sandra beamed, turned to Grace, and stuck out her tongue. "See? Brother-in-law says I look great!"
Grace rolled her eyes and said, "Boss Campbell is joining us for breakfast later. You can’t look . Go get ready!"
"Whatever. She’s your boss, not mine. And we’re at home. Why do I have to care what she thinks?"
"Stop whining. Are you going or not?" Grace glared at her.
"Alright, alright. You’re always so mean to me. Brother-in-law never is." Sandra muttered under her breath before scurrying to the bathroom.
Grace stood next to John and said, "You spoil Sandra too much. If you give her an inch, she’ll take a mile. Let her step inside, and she’ll climb directly onto the bed."
John chuckled, "Well, you can be tough on her. I’m just her brother-in-law—how can I scold her? We’re family. A bit of spoiling won’t hurt."
Grace knew he was right. She’d been unable to rein Sandra in for years, and as a brother-in-law, John could only indulge her antics even more.
The sound of the doorbell interrupted their conversation. Grace quickly went to open the door, and Lucy greeted her with a cheerful smile, "Grace, I’m here to mooch breakfast!"
Grace quickly welcomed her, smiling, "Mr. Smith, you’re too polite. Please come in."
Lucy chuckled and said, "Grace, if you keep calling me that at home, I’ll feel too formal to visit. Just call me Lucy instead."
Grace hesitated slightly but then replied graciously, "Alright, from now on, I’ll call you Lucy."
"Perfect. Now I’ll feel completely at ease, like visiting a friend’s house."
"I feel more relaxed as well. Come and sit. Breakfast will be ready soon."
Sandra emerged from the bathroom freshly washed and greeted Lucy before darting back into the kitchen.
"Brother-in-law," Sandra whispered to John, "Don’t you think Lucy has a thing for you?"
"Stop making stuff up. No matter how great you think your brother-in-law is, in her eyes, I’m nothing special. How could she have a thing for me?"
"But why does she always hang around you? And she looks at you with that smile—it’s so suspicious!"
John tapped Sandra on the head and laughed, "You’re such a troublemaker. Your sister doesn’t even keep an eye on me, yet here you are acting like some watchdog. Am I your sister’s husband or yours?"
"Eh, it’s about the same!" Sandra rubbed her head, grinning mischievously.
John’s face darkened. How could these things be "about the same"? Only Sandra could come up with such nonsense.