Chapter 52: A Place That’s Not Home

Jonathan’s home didn’t match his outward demeanor. It wasn’t warm or inviting—spacious but cold, nearly indistinguishable from a model home. It was large, with only scattered traces of his presence. It was obvious that no guests ever came here. There weren’t even extra slippers prepared; Jonathan simply handed Sierra his own and walked in barefoot.

Sierra had assumed that when he said he’d provide a meal, he’d just order takeout. But when she saw him rolling up his sleeves after removing his suit jacket, she realized he was going to cook himself.

“You can cook?”

Jonathan glanced at her. “Is that surprising?”

Sierra nodded. “Very surprising.”

“Go sit and rest, or check out the books in the study. You might find something you like.”

His suggestion tempted her, but she still felt a little awkward. “I can help.”

“I don’t make sick people work. Next time, you cook while I rest.”

With that, he pushed her out of the kitchen.

Sierra’s fingers twitched slightly. Next time! She shook her head to stop herself from overthinking and went to the study.

The bookshelves were filled with books—many chemistry and biology texts, some not even available on the market. Sierra’s eyes lit up. She got completely lost in them, only snapping back to reality when a knock came at the door.

Jonathan leaned against the frame. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay!”

She carefully closed the book and followed him to the dining area. When she saw the meal on the table—four dishes and a soup that looked like they had come straight from a high-end restaurant—her eyes widened.

“You made all this?”

“Not a single dish is fake.”

Jonathan adjusted his sleeves as he spoke. The motion caught Sierra’s eye, and before she realized it, she was looking at his forearm.

It wasn’t what she had imagined. She had assumed he’d have the lean, slightly frail arms of a scholar, but his were strong, well-defined. Even though he wasn’t flexing, the power beneath his skin was evident. And his complexion wasn’t the pale shade of someone who spent all their time indoors—it was a healthy tone. The fine hairs on his arms were a bit thick, giving him a rugged, untamed feel, completely at odds with his usual refined demeanor.

As he set the table, his broad shoulders and slim waist moved with ease, and his lower torso looked particularly solid and strong. Maybe she wasn’t fully recovered yet, but Sierra suddenly felt a little warm. She quickly looked away, focusing on the food instead.

The taste was exactly like something made by a high-end restaurant. Even the knife work and presentation were on par.

Jonathan sipped his soup and said flatly, “Didn’t need to.”

Sierra glanced at him. Maybe he didn’t even realize it, but when he said that, he radiated a quiet, effortless authority—like someone who was used to having complete control.

The more she interacted with him, the less he seemed like the person he pretended to be. But she didn’t mind.

She grinned. “Mr. Jonathan, is there anything you can’t do?”

Jonathan thought about it seriously, then nodded. “There is.”

Sierra had just been joking, but when he actually answered, she got curious. “What is it?”

Jonathan looked at her and said in all seriousness, “Giving birth.”

Sierra blinked, then burst into laughter. She hadn’t expected him to have a sense of humor—let alone one this dry. When she laughed, it was like all the shadows in her eyes disappeared. She looked warm, bright—completely different.

Jonathan watched her for a moment, then said, “You should laugh more. It suits you.”

The words caught her off guard. For some reason, she suddenly didn’t dare meet his eyes. The air in the dining room grew oddly warm. Then Jonathan’s phone rang. He gave her a small nod before stepping away to answer it.

Sierra let out a slow breath. She pressed a hand to her chest—her heartbeat felt a little off. Shaking off the strange feeling, she focused on her food.

Jonathan returned soon after, and neither of them spoke. They just quietly ate their meal.

After they had nearly finished, Jonathan finally said, “I found the person you were looking for.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Do you want to go see them?”

Daphne’s family lived in the outskirts, in a run-down area with makeshift housing. The conditions were worse than the Coleman family’s neighborhood. Sierra hadn’t intended to trouble Jonathan any further, but he insisted. He wouldn’t let her go to a place like that alone.