Brian's brows arched in surprise.

“Well then, should I be the one making breakfast?”

“Why not? Who dictated that in a partnership, the woman must take up cooking and cleaning?" Rosalynn countered.

Brian held her gaze, a challenging glint in his eye.

"Fine, I'll cook you breakfast if you dare to eat it.”

Rosalynn's mind flashed back to Brian's attempts at peeling potatoes an image that provoked both amusement and concern.

She decided to let it pass. After all, a man who could ink a contract worth hundreds of millions was not cut out for menial chores.

Silence descended on the room as they ate in peace.

“Where do you plan on living, here or at my place?" Brian asked, his plate nearly clean. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

“Either works for me." Rosalynn shrugged nonchalantly, finishing her sandwich. Rising from the chair, she began clearing the remnants of their meal.

Brian watched her lithe figure move around the room, his interest piqued.

In his eyes, women were extensions of men, who were to provide them with love and material comforts.

But here, living under her roof, he found himself basking in her care.

“I'LL have someone deliver our essentials here later. We can live together," he suggested.

Casting a sideways glance at Brian, Rosalynn agreed.

‘air enough."

With her brisk nod of approval, Brian couldn't help but feel somewhat under her thumb.

His eyebrows shot up in response.

Just then, his phone trilled.

It was call from Edwin.

An important client meeting Loomed ahead, with Edwin waiting for him at the rendezvous point.

“I need to take off," Brian announced, pushing off from the table.