"Oh no, you brat! How can you bully my granddaughter like that? What if she runs away from you?" The old madam raised her cane threateningly once more, this time aiming for Zade's head as Daisy watched the scene unfold with a smile tugging at her lips.
"It's okay, Grandmother. Please, don't hit him again," Daisy interjected, her voice soft and filled with false sorrow. "After all, he *is* my husband. Who knows how he'll punish me later when you're not around to protect me for all these hits." She grasped the old madam's hands, her eyes shimmering with fake vulnerability.
The old woman's expression softened immediately, turning toward Daisy with deep concern. "Oh, my poor dear!" She looked back at Zade, her face hardening. "You better not lay a hand on her again," she warned, her voice fierce. Zade nodded, though his gaze was locked on Daisy, who had a mischievous little smile playing on her lips.
Once in the car, the air between Zade and Daisy felt tense. She sat awkwardly, her mind replaying the scene with his grandmother. The weight of her earlier antics settled on her, and the silence that had fallen between them since they got into the car only made her more nervous.
She tried to create as much space as possible between them, but in Zade's sleek sports car, that wasn't an option. The small interior made her hyper-aware of his presence, and she couldn't help but glance at him every few moments, wondering what was going through his mind. His silence was unnerving.
"Take a turn here," she finally said, pointing toward a shabby side street. He followed her direction, his hands steady on the wheel, though he still hadn't uttered a word since they left the venue.
Zade's eyes scanned the environment, taking in the dilapidated buildings along side it's crumbling infrastructure. His brows furrowed as he noticed the faded paint peeling off the houses, the barely functioning streetlights, and the area spoke loud volumes about it's poor and lacking security. Anyone could break in here and steal without much effort, and that thought irked him.
He turned to Daisy with a questioning gaze. "Which one is yours?"
She stilled at the sound of his voice, so sharp in the silence, but quickly pointed to a house at the far end of the street. It looked no better than the others—worn-down, outdated, with weeds growing along the edges of the broken sidewalk.
"Why do you live in such a place?" he asked, his tone filled with disgust as he assessed the surroundings. It was clear that he found the entire area beneath him.
"What?" Daisy blinked, shocked at the bluntness of his question. She knew her place wasn't the best, but she had never expected him to say it so openly. His tone, the look on his face—it embarrassed her.
"It's what I can afford. Rent is expensive these days," she muttered, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice.
Zade shot her a pointed look. "Is your salary not enough?"
His question stung. His dark eyes bore into her, leaving her momentarily speechless before she gathered herself.
"I have other things to spend my money on," she replied, her voice tight. She didn't want to explain further, hoping he would drop the subject.
He gave a curt nod and parked the car in front of her house, turning off the ignition. To her surprise, he opened his door and stepped out following her .
"What are you doing?" she asked, following after him with wide eyes.
"I'm going with you to get your things," he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "This neighborhood doesn't look safe, and I'm not letting you go in alone."
Daisy couldn't help but laugh, though her heart warmed slightly at his concern. "I've lived here for years, Zade. I'm used to it. Besides, no one bothers us because we don't have anything worth stealing."
"Except for the desperate ones," she added with a wry smile.
He didn't respond, just followed her to the door, his eyes scanning the street as if expecting danger at any moment. Daisy unlocked the door and stepped inside, but immediately froze as a small, high-pitched voice called out from within.
"You're back!" the voice whined, full of excitement.
A little girl, no more than five or six years old, peeked around the corner, her round face lighting up with a wide grin when she saw Daisy. Without hesitation, she ran forward and threw her chubby arms around Daisy's waist, squeezing her tightly.
"Why did you come home so late? You promised you'd be back earlier!" the girl complained, her voice tinged with the beginnings of tears as she looked up at Daisy with big, watery eyes.
Zade stood by the doorway, frozen in place as he watched the scene unfold. His gaze traveled from the little girl to Daisy, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and firm, laced with confusion.
"You have a child?"
Daisy stiffened at his words, her heart skipping a beat.