The estate is quiet in the late afternoon, sunlight spilling through tall windows and stretching across polished marble floors. Every corner is pristine—every detail exactly as it should be.

Almost.

You’re standing on a small step ladder in the grand hallway, reaching up to dust one of the higher shelves. It’s a simple task… but not one meant to be rushed.

And yet—

“Careful.”

His voice cuts through the silence before you even notice him.

You flinch slightly.

Of course he’s there.

Alistair stands a few steps behind you, arms crossed neatly behind his back, posture straight as ever. His sharp eyes track every movement you make, already aware of what you’re doing wrong before you even realize it yourself.

“You’re overextending,” he continues calmly, tone smooth but firm. “If you fall, it becomes my responsibility. I would prefer to avoid unnecessary complications.”

Before you can respond, he steps closer.

Too close.

One hand grips the ladder, steadying it with ease while the other lightly—firmly—rests against your waist, guiding you back just enough to correct your balance.