Chapter 2 SAINT CLAIRE'S MANSION

"Good morning, Dad," Julian said as he stepped into the grand bedroom.

The walls, painted a soft dove grey, radiated calm. Elegant furnishings filled the space-rich textures and refined colors coming together in quiet luxury. Everything in the room spoke of wealth and taste, yet it felt lived in, warm.

"My boy," Mr. Saint Clair replied with a bright smile. He lay comfortably in bed, stretched out with a blanket pulled up to his waist. Though his body looked at rest, his sharp eyes were wide open, thoughtful and alert as he stared at the ceiling.

Julian took a seat on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling today?"

"Much better, son. Thank you for asking."

Julian gave a small nod. "I interviewed a lady yesterday. She'll start today-someone to care for you full-time."

"Oh? That's good to hear," his father said, his tone sincere.

"She seems capable."

A brief silence passed before his father turned to him again. "And how's the company?"

"Running smoothly, Dad."

"That's my boy," he said proudly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a familiar smile.

Then came the question Julian had hoped to avoid.

"And how's your fiancée? Lexi?"

Julian shifted slightly, lowering his gaze. "Dad..."

His father raised an eyebrow. "What is it, son?"

Julian took a breath. "You know I don't love Lexi. I don't want to marry her."

Mr. Saint Clair's expression tightened. "Julian, don't say that."

"Dad, it's the truth."

"You know how important that union is to our family. We have a legacy with the Reginalds-decades of trust and business. Your marriage to Lexi would solidify that bond."

Julian stood but didn't pace-he just needed to move. "But what about what I want? What about my happiness?"

"You think I don't want that for you?" his father said softly, then his voice hardened. "But timing matters. I'm preparing to run for president, Julian. And with Lexi by your side, we'd have the most powerful alliance this country has ever seen. No one could stand against the Reginald-Saint Clair coalition. Do you understand the opportunity that brings?"

Julian met his father's eyes. "And what if it costs me the one thing I truly want?"

"Son..." Mr. Saint Clair's voice dropped to a near whisper. "Sometimes, power is the price of love. And sometimes, love can wait."

Before Julian could reply, a knock echoed through the room, slicing the tension like a blade.

"Who is it?" he called.

"Sir, a Miss Elma is asking for you," came the voice of one of the servants, John.

"Let her in," Julian said, taking a step back.

The door opened, and Elma Gomez entered the room. Her presence was gentle but sure, her frame graceful, gliding across the floor like she belonged. She smiled warmly and gave a respectful bow.

"Good morning, sir," she said, her voice calm and pleasant.

"Good morning, young lady," Mr. Saint Clair replied, his face lighting up with surprise and warmth.

Julian gestured toward her. "Dad, this is Miss Elma Gomez. The caregiver I told you about. After meeting her, I'm convinced she's the right person to care for you."

He turned to Elma, his tone shifting into something more formal. "Elma, this is my father-the CEO of Saint Clair Empire. You'll be attending to his daily needs. If he requires help in the bathroom, John will assist. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a steady nod.

Julian glanced once more at his father. "I'll take my leave."

As he turned to go, Mr. Saint Clair called after him with a smirk.

"Send my regards to your fiancée."

Julian stopped in the doorway. "But Dad-"

He shook his head and walked out without finishing the sentence.