I left the coffee shop and continued walking, letting my feet carry me wherever while my mind worked through possibilities. By eight-thirty, I’d walked several miles and finished my coffee. The mall would be opening soon, so I headed in that direction.

The Verano Heights Mall was a sprawling complex of glass and steel. Not many people this early, just employees getting shops ready and a few elderly mall-walkers doing their morning circuits.

I wandered through the quiet corridors, looking at store displays and trying to figure out what I was actually doing here. Was I hiding from Sloane? Planning to buy an apology gift? Just killing time?

My stomach grumbled. Right. Food.

The food court was mostly closed, but a breakfast place had just opened. I ordered eggs and toast and sat at a table overlooking the central atrium. As I ate, I watched the mall slowly come to life – security guards making rounds, cleaning staff polishing floors, early shoppers beginning to trickle in.

〘 Reminder: Subject Sloane Fitzgerald expects breakfast as per agreement. Current irritation metrics indicate failure to deliver would result in significant relationship damage. 〙

"Yeah, yeah. I’m heading back."

I finished my food and made my way to the grocery section of the department store. If I was going to make peace offerings, they needed to be good.

Twenty minutes later, I was headed back to the Fitzgerald estate with bags of gourmet breakfast ingredients. The walk back gave me time to strategize my approach. If Sloane was still in murder mode, I’d just leave the food and retreat. If she seemed receptive to an apology, I’d offer one. If she wanted to talk about what happened...

Well, we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

I entered through the side door that led directly to the kitchen, hoping to avoid running into Sloane until breakfast was ready. The house was quiet. Either she was still in the gym or she’d gone back to her room to plot my demise.

I unpacked my ingredients and got to work. Thick-cut bacon went into the oven. Fresh blueberries and strawberries were washed and prepped. A mountain of hashbrowns started sizzling in one pan while eggs waited their turn.

The piece de resistance would be stuffed french toast – bread soaked in a vanilla custard mixture, filled with cream cheese and berries, then pan-fried to golden perfection.

I was so focused on cooking that I didn’t notice Sloane until she spoke.

"What’s all this?"

I jumped, nearly flipping an egg onto the floor. Sloane stood in the kitchen doorway, freshly showered, wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was damp and loose around her shoulders.

"Breakfast," I said, stating the obvious. "As promised."

Sloane crossed her arms. "I thought you were skipping out on our deal since you ran away from training."

"I didn’t run away. I tactically retreated."

"Is that what we’re calling it?"

I flipped the hashbrowns. "Look, about yesterday—"

"We’re not talking about yesterday," Sloane interrupted, her face immediately flushing. "Yesterday didn’t happen."

"Fine by me. Yesterday is canceled. Deleted from the timeline. Never existed."

A hint of a smile tugged at Sloane’s mouth before she forced it back into a scowl. "So what is all this then?" She gestured at the elaborate breakfast in progress.

"It’s me keeping my end of our bargain. I make you breakfast for two weeks, you train me. Simple transaction."

"Even though I was going to murder you this morning?"

"Were you?"

"Still considering it."

I nodded solemnly. "Well, maybe this will change your mind." I plated the first piece of stuffed french toast, drizzled it with maple syrup, and added a perfect dusting of powdered sugar.

Sloane’s eyes widened slightly. She tried to maintain her angry facade, but I could see it cracking.

"Bone apple teeth." I said, sliding the plate toward her.

Sloane shook her head and focused on her food. After a few bites, she let out an involuntary sound of pleasure that did something interesting to my internal temperature.

"This is amazing," she admitted grudgingly.

"I know."

"And you’re still an ass."

"I know that too."

She finished her french toast and held out her plate for more.

I served up the rest of breakfast – eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and more french toast – and we ate in a silence that was somehow both awkward and comfortable. The kind of silence you can only achieve after talking about hypothetically kissing someone you’ve known for nine years.

"Training starts again tomorrow morning," Sloane finally said, breaking the silence. "Don’t be late."

"I’ll be there. No tactical retreats."

She stood and brought her plate to the sink. As she passed behind me, I felt a sharp smack across my backside.

I yelped and spun around. Sloane was already at the kitchen door, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Now we’re even," she said, and disappeared into the hallway.

I stood there, stunned and slightly impressed. The girl had game when she wanted to.

〘 Subject Temptation Gauge update: 40%. Threshold achieved. Stage advancement: Curious → Attached. 〙

Well damn.

===

〘Traore’s Thoughts〙

Hey guys, I decided to make a Power Stone Goal for this novel.

Every 200 Power Stones this week = +1 Extra Chapter. (MAX 14 ChapterS)

We can have the normal 2 Daily Chapters + 2 Extra Chapters Every Day, is all up to you ;)