CHAPTER 039: Breakfast Time

Desiree's POV

“How many staff does one need in a house?” I mutter under my breath as yet another person steps forward with a polite “Congratulations.”

So far, eleven people have come to offer their good wishes at breakfast, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that all these people work in this house. It’s like I’ve landed in a Downton Abbey episode.

Caspian leans closer, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “And this is our chef, Douglas,” he says, gesturing toward a short, stocky man who steps forward with the confidence of someone twice his height.

Douglas barely reaches four feet, but his presence is anything but small. His sharp eyes scan me with an unsettling mix of curiosity and something else I can’t quite place. Maybe I’m imagining it, but there’s a flicker of interest—or is that desire?—in his gaze. I blink, unsure if I’m reading too much into it.

“Nice to meet you, Douglas,” I say. “The meal was incredible.”

“It’s nothing,” he replies smoothly, puffing out his