Peter, fully aware of the enormous financial gains Waylen would gain from the deal, found his casual mention of children's expenses absurd.

He responded with composed grace, "Indeed, children are an investment.

Mr. Evans understands that, which is why he had me reach out."

“Extend my regards to him."

"WiLL do."

Ending the call, Peter mused that Waylen would finally step into the corporate environment the following day.

He recognized Waylen's cunning; the man was more astute than both Rena and Cecilia.

Meanwhile, Waylen savored the moment.

Opting not to head indoors immediately, he lit a cigarette in the parterre, lost in the fiery hues of the sunset.

Finishing his smoke, he made his way to the kitchen. A dinner promise awaited.

As he prepped mandarin fish, Rena's soft embrace enveloped him from behind.

"Do you enjoy the aroma of fish that much?" he inquired, turning slightly to face her.

Dodging his question, Rena posed her own, “Did you take a week off just to get on my uncle's nerve?"

Acknowledging her sharp intuition, Waylen neither confirmed nor denied.

Aware of Rena's astuteness, especially given her time as the president of the Exceed Group, he wasn't surprised she had deduced as much.

"Does it bother you?" he ventured.

“Not in the slightest," she replied, her fingers tracing a light pattern on his abdomen.

"I'm merely curious about your motives. Care to share, Mr. Fowler?"

In the warmth of the kitchen, things took a turn for the romantic.

Rena, sensing the shift, gently disentangled herself from Waylen's embrace.