Rosehill Villa
Serena sat in a Nordic-style dining room, her gaze drawn to the mounted deer head on the far wall. The warm golden lighting softened the modern minimalism of the space, but that striking piece gave the room a distinctly personal touch.
She tilted her head slightly and commented with a hint of curiosity, "The decor here is quite unique. It feels more like someone's private retreat than a restaurant."
Grandpa Bryan chuckled, the sound deep and easy. "You're sharper than most, Miss Knowles. That's because it isn't a restaurant-it's one of my grandson's private properties."
Serena blinked. "Oh? Is he in hospitality, then?"
The old man waved his hand dismissively. "No, no. His line of work has nothing to do with food or beverage. This place is just a vacation home. Not even a private kitchen."
"I see." Serena nodded politely, but a flicker of unease lingered in her chest.
If this place wasn't meant for entertaining, then why bring her here?
Surely he didn't go through all this trouble just to show off a house?
As if sensing her thoughts, Grandpa Bryan smiled and said reassuringly, "Don't overthink it, Miss Knowles. I simply thought the setting here would be perfect for moon-gazing. Peaceful, isn't it? As for dinner, I brought my own chef from home. His cooking could rival any Michelin-starred restaurant."
"Moon-gazing?" Serena echoed, glancing toward the expansive windows. The forest beyond was bathed in the last blush of twilight, the moon just beginning to rise over the distant trees.
The more he spoke, the more puzzled she became.
Was this really just a casual dinner?
Something told her there was more to this invitation than met the eye.
Her eyes wandered back to the mounted deer head above the fireplace. It was beautifully preserved, the antlers branching with symmetry and grace.
Grandpa Bryan followed her gaze, his eyes twinkling. "Do you like it?"
"I was just wondering," Serena replied honestly, "what the antler hairs are made of. They look incredibly lifelike."
The old man let out a hearty laugh. "That's because they are lifelike. It's not a replica-it's a real deer head."
Her brows lifted in surprise. "It's real?"
He nodded, pride gleaming in his eyes. "That was the first deer my grandson ever hunted."
"Your grandson hunted that?" Serena looked up again. The antlers alone suggested the creature had been enormous-majestic, even.
She'd been picturing his grandson as a young man, perhaps even a little inexperienced.
But to bring down a reindeer like that...
"He must be quite skilled," she murmured, curiosity growing.
"That wasn't here, of course," the old man added. "It's not a native species. I took him to Russia when he was sixteen. Deep in the Siberian forests. First time he ever held a rifle, and he brought it down with a single shot-right through the heart."
There was unmistakable pride in his voice, the kind only a grandfather could carry.
Serena's expression shifted subtly-part awe, part intrigue.
Who exactly was this grandson?
Serena now felt even more certain that the grandson must be underage.
She offered a genuine compliment. "That's impressive! At such a young age, he's already so bold. If it were me, I'd probably freeze up just seeing a wild animal-let alone have the guts to shoot."
Grandpa Bryan chuckled and waved a hand. "Don't be so modest. From the way you judge gemstones-sharp, clean, and decisive-I can tell you're no coward."
Then he squinted slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. "That grandson of mine may not be perfect, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. He's dependable."
"Oh?" Serena replied smoothly, lifting her teacup to her lips. She took a sip, letting the warm liquid steady her, even as questions whirled in her mind.
Why was he talking about his grandson so much? What did it matter to her how 'dependable' he was?
Ten more minutes passed in light conversation. Serena nodded politely as Grandpa Bryan talked about antique porcelain and imported cigars. But beneath her smile, her thoughts remained distracted, caught on the puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit.
Then, subtly, his eyes flicked to the clock behind her.
His expression shifted-brows pinching in faint displeasure.
He clapped once.
From the hallway, the attendant from earlier reappeared with practiced efficiency. "Sir, your instructions?"
"It's getting late. We shouldn't keep Miss Knowles waiting. Serve the food."
The attendant hesitated ever so slightly. "Are you sure, sir? If we wait just a bit longer, he might arrive-"
Serena's brows furrowed. He?
We're waiting for someone?
She hadn't been told anyone else was coming.
Grandpa Bryan's voice turned firm. "Serve the food."
That ended the conversation.
"Yes, right away," the attendant replied, bowing and disappearing into the kitchen.
Serena could no longer contain her curiosity. "Grandpa Bryan... were we waiting for someone?"
The old man gave a nonchalant wave. "No need to worry about that. Just enjoy the meal."
Before she could press further, the attendant returned-this time with two others in tow, each carrying polished silver trays.
The scent hit her first-warm, rich, mouthwatering.
With practiced grace, the servers placed the trays before her and Grandpa Bryan, steam gently curling beneath the domed lids.
"Miss Knowles, please," the attendant gestured with a nod.
Serena smiled politely and lifted the cover.
Inside was a beautifully plated Angel beef steak-medium rare, its deep pink center glistening under a delicate jus, nestled against truffle whipped potatoes and seasonal greens.
Her knife and fork were already in hand. She angled the blade-
When the distant hum of a car engine broke through the quiet.
She paused mid-motion, instinctively turning toward the sound.
Through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, the glare of headlights flickered before going dark.
Serena murmured, "Someone's here."
Grandpa Bryan's shoulders visibly eased, the tension vanishing from his expression like fog under morning sun. "Don't be alarmed, Miss Knowles-it's just my grandson."
"Your grandson?" she echoed, her gaze drifting once again to the deer head on the wall.
"Yes. He's free tonight, so I invited him. I wanted to introduce you two." He smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all," she replied reflexively.
What's there to mind? she told herself. It was his villa, his guest list. She wasn't that close with him anyway.
If there was an extra person at the table, so be it.
She smiled faintly. I'm here to eat, not to make friends.
"As long as you don't mind," Grandpa Bryan said again, beaming now-absolutely delighted.
Something about that joy seemed... overdone.
He wasn't this excited a minute ago.
The front door opened.
A rush of cool night air swept through the corridor.
Serena turned her head automatically toward the sound-only to find her entire body stiffen.
Like plunging into an arctic lake.
***