At Lancaster Ancestral Mansion
Vernice had arrived with a young man in a white uniform earlier that morning, much to Rock's mild irritation. Alexander had insisted on the arrangement, especially with Ben away, despite Rock's protests.
"I don't see why it's necessary," Rock grumbled when Vernice showed up, eyeing her bag and luggage. "The medical team practically lives here in the mansion. I'm not exactly unattended."
"Alexander's orders," Vernice replied firmly, setting her bag down with a thud. "After the incident at Sinclair Villa, he wants someone with you at all times. And you know better than to argue with him."
Rock huffed, muttering under his breath, but didn't argue further. As much as he hated the extra fuss, he couldn't deny the logic. The recent scare had unsettled him more than he'd admit, even to himself. And, while Vernice's sharp wit could be a thorn in his side, her company wasn't the worst.
