"Got it."

Jenna hung up the phone and rubbed her sleepy eyes. She picked up her phone again and dialed Ethan's number.

The call connected almost immediately.

"Mr. Roscente, will you be back for lunch? Alright."

Next, she called Grandma Blanche, who was busy playing mahjong at the senior center and wouldn't be home for lunch.

After washing up, Jenna changed into loungewear and headed to the kitchen. If Ethan weren't coming back, she would've just made instant noodles. But now she had to prepare three dishes and a soup.

Ethan returned at half past noon.

"Lunch is ready. Please wash your hands first."

He responded with a cold hum, his gaze icy.

Every time she met those emotionless eyes, Jenna felt a chill run down her spine.

She served the rice and handed him the chopsticks only after he sat down. The dining table was eerily quiet, the clinking of utensils the only sound.

"You didn't tell your brother you work at a club?" Ethan suddenly spoke.

Jenna's head snapped up, her pulse quickening. "You told him?"

"No."

She exhaled in relief. If Milo found out she worked at such a place, he'd raise hell.

"I don't have that kind of free time." His tone dripped with disdain.

Jenna lowered her head and silently finished her rice.

"Mr. Roscente," she mustered the courage to speak, "can we sleep separately for now? I'm not ready."

"You want to sleep on the floor?" He blew out a smoke ring, looking down at her.

Jenna froze. So he'd already planned to make her sleep on the floor.

"Yes. I'll take the floor." Her reply was firm.

After a pause, she added cautiously, "I have work at night, so I might not be able to make dinner..."

Ethan stubbed out his cigarette. "Do whatever you want."

He walked away, his back cold and distant.