Ewan was absorbed in thoughts until the beep from the coffee machine went off.
With renewed focus, he collected the ready cups of hot black coffee and briskly walked to his home office—where he and Sandro had spent the whole night in, working and trying to find a way out of the pit Athena and Zane had dug for him.
Ewan relaxed his hold on the cups when their hot temperature became unbearable on his knuckles.
Once he handed a cup to Sandro, his assistant bowed his head in appreciation.
He continued to watch, appeased thereafter, when Sandro let out a happy sigh after a sip of the coffee.
"You still make the best coffee, Ewan. The only unfair thing is that you won't show me how to do it."
Ewan chuckled softly. "Not me. Not any special recipe. It's just the quality of the machine."
Sandro scoffed and shook his head. "Your new lie? The last time, you mentioned it was magic transferred from your lineage."
