Chapter 6: Lemon Bars and Kindness

From then on, whenever my stepsister didn’t need me, I stayed at the Governor’s mansion. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, unless she had a meltdown.

Derek never made me scrub floors or dig through icy pools. The staff seemed confused, but no one questioned the boss’s son.

He only had me organize his papers—files from Yale Law, campaign documents, letters from people I recognized from the news.

The study was always warm, smelling like leather and old books, not the fake lavender my stepsister loved.

The heat made me sleepy. I yawned, still recovering from being sick.

Halfway through a yawn, a lemon bar was pushed into my mouth. Derek had appeared beside me without a sound.

I bit down. The lemon bar was perfect—tart and sweet, buttery crumbs melting on my tongue.

He put down his Montblanc pen. “If you’re sleepy, go rest on the couch.” He nodded toward a leather sofa that probably cost more than my life.

I glanced at the papers. “Not sleepy,” I insisted, forcing my eyes open wider.

He shot me a look, half amused. “Really not sleepy?”

“Not sleepy!” I repeated, even as my eyelids drooped.

Those strange floating comments appeared again, flickering in the air like ghostly subtitles.

【Hard to imagine this CP could be so pure love】

【Not only pure love but also clean, lacking spice. I hate clean romance】

【Don’t worry upstairs, the clean romance won’t last two days. Soon the baby will court death, and a death-courting baby naturally needs to be severely punished~】

Were these hallucinations? Side effects from the medicine?

Derek suddenly scooped me up, bridal style. Nobody had carried me since I was a toddler. For a second, I almost forgot to be afraid.

“Sir?” I whispered, stunned.

He carried me to the couch and gently pressed my head down. “Rest.” His hand lingered on my hair for a moment.

I murmured, “Oh.” What else could I do?

As he turned away, I grabbed his sleeve, surprised by how soft the fabric was.

He looked back, confused.

I blinked up at him. “You’re a good person.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

I like good people. They’re rarer than winning the lottery in my world.