Adler | The Monarch & The Heirs BOOK 2.

Sleepover | A TWENTY

A/N: Dedicated to KingCarter16 and teheakiko

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"Don't touch anything."

That had been the first words Beswick had said to Stevie when he'd unlocked the door to the house. His house.
She was inside the house of Stellar Magazine's editor in chief and as secretly excited as she was to explore the foreign territory, she had to pause in wonder if Beswick's statement was a joke.

Hypothetically, if Stevie had been a burglar, she would've chosen any place but here. Specifically because there seemed to be nothing to actually steal. No rugs, carpet, or hung up pictures, no basic form of furniture, no fancy China sets or even a bloody potted plant.

She'd learnt that amongst the wealthy class, they had their own various ways to decorate their households in lavish manners and Stevie would've expected the man who ran an elite fashion magazine to have one of the top designed and furnished homes.
It was as vacant as Rudolph's brain to store useful thoughts.

"I have a question." Stevie started.

"No." Beswick answered.

She asked, regardless. "Did you recently move or something? Because I literally can't see anything to not touch here besides an outlet."

"It shouldn't be too hard to follow then, should it?" He retorted.

"I'm just saying, it's a lot more plain than I figured someone in your line of work would have."

Beswick lifted a brow. "And by someone in my line of work, I presume you're referring to your 'aunt' Madeline Dion? Well, let me enlighten that poor outlook you've been toiling around in that head. First and foremost, I'm not a French kook. I don't believe 'signs' and weather patterns or bloody seagulls determine how my day will go. In my field, things get hectic and as it doesn't stay in one region, I have three other houses across this country for convenience in my business. That's not including the few spread out of Europe that I may not step foot in for months.

Now, if you carefully take that into consideration you'll find why I don't care for home decorations to waste cash and cluster my house I'm rarely in for more than a few hours in a given week combined."

Stevie blinked. "But you don't even have curtains!"

"So?"

"So what if, like, you don't want sunlight on a particular spot? Or the extra dust that'll accumulate?"

"That's your issue? If my house cleaner will have to work a little harder on the job I'm paying them generously for?"

"Well those cleaners, if any of them have any sense, they'll probably find this easy job weird and start suspecting their employer is some serial killer clearing out the lair for the bodies of his victims."

Beswick sighed. "Why did I even agree to let you stay over?"

Yes, the best part of this; she'd get to be staying overnight in his house. No wait, that wasn't even the best part. The best was how this hard shell of a man agreed to let a girl he considered a criminal into his home. An agreement spurred by each accusing the other of having hidden lustful desires that would reveal themselves if left sharing a space all by themselves.

It was more said in the heat of the moment, Stevie was sure. He only wasn't backing out due to overblown pride. Of course she knew he didn't hold the teeniest bit of attraction towards some seventeen year old girl and she held nothing like that for him. That didn't mean she was above dropping taunts at any given time.