Brandon’s POV
The moment we pulled up to Professor Thompson’s brownstone, I caught Summer stealing a nervous glance at me, her teeth worrying her lower lip. After the drama with the Taylors, I knew she was desperate for some normalcy with the grandfather who’d always shown her unconditional love,
‘Ready?‘ I asked, squeezing her hand,
Summer’s smile brightened instantly. Absolutely,”
شكارة
We exchanged knowing looks as she pressed the doorbell. The door tung open to reveal Professor Thompson, his silver hair slightly disheveled, intelligent eyes immediately locking onto Summe.
“Well, well, he huffed, folding his arms. “Look who finally remembered her old grandfather exists.”
“Grandpa! Happy New Year! Summer exclaimed, bypassing me entirely and launching herself straight into his arms.
Summer
I watched as the old man’s facade crumbled instantly. He enveloped her with the tenderness that only true family could express.
“Grandpa, it’s been forever! You look as handsome as ever,” Summer cooed, beaming up at him.
Thompson rapped his knuckles gently against her forehead. “And you’ve clearly been having the time of your life at George’s place, hmm? Too busy to visit me?”
Summer tucked herself under his arm as they walked inside. “Brandon, bring the stuff in!” she called over her shoulder, every inch the commanding wife.
By the time I’d hauled everything inside, they were already settled in the living room, Summer perched on the arm of Thompson’s
chair.
“I’ve been happy,” she was saying. “But seeing you makes me even happier!”
Thompson pinched her nose playfully. “Happy enough to forget about your Grandpa for weeks?”
Thompson’s gaze shifted to me. “Brandon,” he acknowledged with a nod. “I half expected you’d let Summer come alone. Good to see you proved me wrong.”
I caught the subtle test in his words. Thompson had never fully approved of our secret marriage, thinking Summer deserved a more public acknowledgment.
Before I could respond, Jenkins, Thompson’s longtime butler, entered with a tea service.
Miss Summer, Mr. Stark, your tea,” he announced. “The professor has been beside himself with excitement since he heard you were coming.”
“Jenkins!” Thompson protested.
Summer jumped up Let me help you with the rest, Jenkins,” she offered, following him toward the kitchen.
I watched her disappear down the hallway, my lips curving into an involuntary smile.
Professor, 1 acknowledged, turning back to face my former mentor.
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Chapter 308
Thompson snorted, all pretense of warmth vanishing. “My study. Now. He rose and strode out without looking back.
I stood with my back straight, waiting for him to speak first. It was this posture–this refusal to cower–that had first caught his
attention when I was his student.
“You know why I’ve called you in here?” Thompson asked.
“I believe so,” I replied evenly.
His eyes narrowed. “I understand your feelings for my granddaughter What I don’t understand is this secrecy, this hiding.”
“Professor,” I met his gaze directly, “I assume you’ve heard about recent events between Summer and myself?”
“I hear many things,” he replied cryptically.
“Then let me be clear,” I said. My intentions toward Summer have always been genuine. I intend to spend my life with her.”
Thompson’s expression remained impassive, but I caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth–a tell I’d learned to recognize
years ago.
“Shall we?” I gestured toward the chess set.
Thompson moved toward the board, automatically reaching for the white pieces.
‘As we began setting up, I made my move. “That day Summer went to the Taylor household for Christmas, something happened. I wonder if you might know anything about it?”
His hand trembled as he positioned a pawn. His eyes lifted to mine, suddenly wary.
“Summer is your biological granddaughter,” I stated plainly. That fact is immutable, isn’t it?”
Thompson sighed heavily. “Sometimes I wonder if taking you as my student was wisdom or folly,” he muttered, abandoning his chess piece to retreat to his desk.
“You have your burdens, Professor,” I observed quietly.
“You’ve always been too perceptive,” he replied, his voice suddenly tired. “Yes, there are things you’re figuring out. Things i can’t discuss–not even with you.”
“Is keeping Summer in the dark truly what’s best for her?” I challenged.
Thompson’s fist came down on the desk. “Best or not, it’s how things must remain!” His voice softened. “Tell her to stop digging. What she might find won’t bring her peace.”
A soft knock interrupted us. Summer peered into the room, still wearing Jenkins’s apron.
“Grandpa? Brandon? What are you two talking about?” Her eyes darted between us, sensing the tension.
“Nothing much, I answered smoothly. “Just enjoying a game with the Professor.”
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she announced before leaving to help Jenkins.
After she’d gone, Thompson turned to me with a pleading expression Summer is a simple girl at heart. Not in intelligence, but in
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Chapter 308.
what she needs. Treat her well, and she’ll give you a lifetime of loyalty.”
He leaned forward. “Brandon, let this matter rest. For everyone’s sake but especially for hers.”
I nodded silently, my mind cataloging what he hadn’t said.
Dinner with Professor Thompson was vastly different than at the Taylor mansion. Summer seemed to bloom in the warm atmosphere, laughing and sharing stories.
I caught Jenkins’s subtle nod toward our hands, directing Thompson attention to our matching rings. The professor’s eyes widened before his demeanor brightened. He reached over, spooning extra meat onto my plate.
“Brandon, Thompson began casually, “about your marriage to Summer-
“Grandpa!” Summer cut in, her cheeks flushing. “Why bring that up during dinner?” Despite her protest, I noticed her expectant glance my way.
“Once things settle down,” I said, meeting Thompson’s gaze, “I intend to make our marriage public. Summer deserves nothing less.”
“Good!” Thompson declared with satisfaction.
Under the table, I slid my hand onto Summer’s thigh, earning an immediate swat.
“Behave yourself,” she hissed.
“You seem happy,” I observed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffed in mock defiance.
“I can see it,” I replied softly, reaching for her hand. “Not just with my eyes, but with my heart.”
She yanked it away, aware of our audience. “Eat your dinner,” she commanded.
Later, as evening deepened, Summer reluctantly suggested it was time to head home.
“Will you be going to the Stark residence tonight?” Thompson asked me pointedly.
“No,” I replied firmly. “Summer and I will be returning to our home. It’s our first New Year’s Eve as a married couple,
Thompson signaled to Jenkins, who brought forward two elegantly wrapped boxes. “These are for you two. A wedding gift.”
Summer accepted them with sincere thanks, naturally slipping her arm through mine. “Thank you, Grandpa.”
The moment we were in the car, Summer tore into her gift box with childlike enthusiasm. Inside lay a small, ornate silver lock with intricate engravings.
Curious, I opened my own box to find… a single sheet of blank paper
Summer stared between the two gifts, confusion written across her face. “What does this mean?” she asked, turning the lock over in her palm.
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The B
