The Cherished Wife (Noelle and Charles)

Charles paused for a beat. "Both you and Peter need to stay sharp."

"Oh, I got the scoop from my bro. He said you're eyeing that prime real estate in West City, right? Looks like Frotconn wants in on the action too. Word on the street is it's escalated all the way up to Maxwell. That's pretty crazy!" Charles's gaze sharpened, his eyes slicing through Sean. "You're really on top of things, aren't you?" He had only just caught wind of it himself, yet here was Joseph, brazen enough to go knocking on Maxwell's door. Charles might be running the Hoffman family now, but Maxwell was still clutching onto his shares in Collosus Group, holding enough clout to sway decisions.

Joseph had once saved Charles's cousin Layla Hoffman's life, and that had put the Hoffman family in his debt. Years had passed with the family propping him up, yet Joseph still had the gall to ask Maxwell for a favor.

"So, what's your game plan?" Sean asked. Business was not usually his thing, but this was family, and with Frotconn and the Shaw family now in the same boat, he was curious to see Charles's next move.

Charles paused, leaning casually against his desk, legs crossed and one hand supporting him on the surface while the other drummed a rhythm on his thigh. "If they want to play, I'll play with them. But let's see if they can actually handle the challenge. You know I hate wasting my time."

Sean's eyebrow quirked up in amusement. "Looks like we're in for some excitement," he said, practically buzzing with anticipation. "Well, it's getting late. I'd better head out. Oh, and Arnold's going to crash at your place for a bit!"

"Sean!" Charles hissed, his voice laced with warning. "You're asking for it!"

With a mischievous grin, Sean leaned against the doorframe. "I think Arnold's taken a liking to your lady! I thought I'd give him a new friend to hang out with over the next few days!"

"Seriously?" Charles grumbled, exasperated. "Give me the card!"

Sean left feeling sorry for himself, broke and rejected. He seemed to have forgotten that it was his own bright idea to leave Arnold behind.

Once Sean was gone, Charles

stepped into the bedroom to find Noelle curled up on the sofa into a cozy ball seemingly lost in her own world. As he drew closer, he noticed the array of tiny, colorful bottles scattered around her feet. Noelle was absorbed in meticulously applying nail polish.

Suddenly, her personal bubble was invaded by a looming shadow. Before Noelle could even look up, Charles had already snatched the polish from her grasp and, with a gentle yet firm grip, lifted her feet to rest on his lap.

Noelle blinked in confusion. "Charles, what are you up to?"

"Can't you tell? I'm going to paint your toenails!"