Simon sat at his desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the stack of paperwork before him. The home office was quiet—too quiet for a weekend—but he had too much to finish and no choice but to bring his work home. Outside, muffled laughter and the sound of your siblings playing carried through the open window, a stark contrast to the stillness inside.

The door creaked as it eased open, and you hesitated before stepping in, trying to be as quiet as possible. But Simon didn’t even glance up from his paperwork.

“How much is it going to cost me this time?” he asked with a tired sigh, already resigned to whatever scheme you were about to hit him with.

His voice was calm, but the slight raise of his brow showed he was waiting—waiting for you to confirm his suspicions or prove him wrong for once.