Angela met Oliver who was on his phone when she approached him by the stairs. "Where were you?" His brows drew together.

"I was in the room next to mine. I had to show Gael the um...towels." She avoided her brother's gaze and began descending the stairs, afraid that he would see through her lies. Her face was hot with the image of Gael in his gloriously naked body still stuck in her head.

Oliver glanced at the hallway, focusing on the guestroom door before following his sister downstairs. He was suspicious of his sister, but he didn't call her out on it.

"What did you want?" she wondered, trying to change the subject.

"We'll put up the Christmas tree."

Angela's face brightened in anticipation. She was a bit confused but also excited at the same time. "Really? We haven't done that in a while."

Oliver lifted his shoulders, his hands hidden inside his lounge pants as they headed towards the living room. "Yeah. For a change. Let's try to do better starting today. Dad's not getting any younger."

She had to agree. She and Oliver weren't getting any younger, too, and they'd have to take better care of each other. Putting up the Christmas tree wasn't merely a chore for the holidays. It used to be something they'd look forward to when they were younger—back when her mother was still in the picture.

They tried to do it yearly even after she left, but it wasn't the same anymore, and eventually, they didn't care much about it. The Christmas eve preparation was left to the servants–the dishes and the decorations, amongst other things. All they had to do was show up at the table and have the traditional dinner. Sure, they were somewhat close as a family should be, but the big house was just that—a big house. It lacked something that Angela couldn't figure out.

The servants were all busy decorating the whole place. The once red and gold decor was now replaced with primarily white, blue, and silver sparkly ornaments and fixtures. The living room was slowly becoming a winter wonderland museum. The throw pillows on the sofa were white and silver, while the huge rectangular carpet was fluffy white. By the tall window that's overlooking the lake stood a fourteen-foot fresh Christmas tree. They had just set it up and was now ready to be decorated.

Angela was eager. She and Oliver began picking out the different glass balls and snowflakes in silver and blue and then strategically placing them on the tree. They laughed and talked about something that happened when they were teenagers, where they got stuck in a snowstorm. They went out on a trip with friends to Vermont and were supposed to come home before Christmas eve when Oliver met an accident. Their flight back got delayed because of the storm, but thankfully, they arrived just in time to spend the 24th with their father. The two used to travel together from time to time before adulthood happened.

Familiar, heavy footsteps came from the side, and Angela knew it was Gael. She looked up and smiled at him. "Wanna join us?"

"Sure." Gael smiled back. He strolled towards them, wearing light grey pants and a black long-sleeved shirt with the top buttons undone.

She passed him a box of glass Christmas balls. "We were just talking about our trip to Vermont many years ago. Oliver nearly died on a ski slope."

"Oh, come on. I didn't. Don't exaggerate." Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Right…" She leaned into Gael as if she would whisper but didn't bother to lower her voice. "He broke his butt."

The servants stifled a peal of laughter and glanced at Oliver, whose brows were now knitted together.

Gael cocked a brow in question, unsure if Angela was joking. Then she added, "I'm not kidding. His x-ray is in the third drawer of Dad's desk in the study. Oliver was trying to impress a girl, so he did this weird flip and landed badly. He had a hairline fracture in his sacrum—it's the triangle shape above the tailbone."

"Yikes. That must have hurt…"

"Hurt like a bitch." Oliver winced. "They couldn't do anything about it except tell me to have bed rest for 3-6 months with pain meds and rehab. Needless to say, I did get the girl. She ended up taking care of me the whole time." He grinned. "Best winter break ever."

"Nice." Gael chuckled and fist-bumped with the other.

"Men," Angela muttered to herself, shaking her head as she continued to put more ornaments on the tree.

They started at the bottom and worked their way up, taking their time and having fun. "It's looking gorgeous…" she admired as they were halfway done.

She suddenly felt a warm hand resting on her waist, and then she was pulled into Gael's side as he whispered to her ear, "I like your plant more."

Her head snapped at him. "What?"

Without answering her question, he pressed a kiss on her forehead and moved away, a knowing smile plastered on his lips as he picked up another ornament.

Angela's heart drummed in her ribcage. What did he mean by that? What plant? THAT plant? But how…

Before she could ask him what he meant, Elias, the butler, came to the living room. "Mr. De Luca, Sir, the Master awaits for you in the front patio."

Gael passed by Angela, squeezing her arm as if to say 'I'll be back', and then he followed Elias out of the house.

***

The sun was still up outside, but it didn't burn. He raised a hand up to put a shade above his eyes—good thing Gael used the sunscreen that Angela gave him earlier. He wasn't much into skincare, but his mother always told him it was the most important step before going out. He wasn't religious in applying products, but since it came from Angela, he'd damn well use it sacredly.

Charlie was seated at a concrete chess table next to a giant chess set on the ground. He had a Christmas sweater on and was sipping hot tea. "Ready for a game of chess?" he asked as Gael was near.

"As ready as I can be. I'm not very good at it, though." Gael took the seat opposite the other.

"Ah. But you said the same with golf too, and yet you defeated Wilfred."

He chuckled and began to place the black pieces on his side of the board, listening to Charlie talk about how he and Oliver sometimes play chess on weekends while Angela reads a book on the grass.

Charlie glanced at Gael and casually started the game by moving his Queen's pawn to 1.d4. "I have to say; I'm partly surprised you didn't let Wilfred win. Most would try to win him over—just like that Josh guy, Lyra's fiancé—by letting him take the victory to flatter him. That boy tries so hard to make everyone like him."

Gael mentally smiled but kept a poker face. Charlie made a strong opening, showing strength and control in his pieces. Gael wanted to study the other's moves first, so he chose to play safe and moved his Queen's pawn to e6, waiting to see what the White would do next. "He's not the one I'm trying to win over, Charlie. It's not his daughter I'm dating."

His answer made Charlie laugh. "Fair enough. You really know how to work your charms, son."

This time, Gael let out a small smile. "I learned from the best. My father can sell a toothpick to someone who doesn't have teeth."

"He seems like an extraordinary guy." Charlie made another move, looking contemplative as he wondered, "What did he say when you told him you'd be late tonight?"

Looking up at the cloudy sky, Gael recalled his brief conversation with his father this morning. His father tried prying, but he promised he'd tell him more when he gets to New York. Instead of answering Angela's father, he straightened in his seat and met the older man's eyes. His voice was firm when he told him, "Actually, Charlie… I would like to ask for your permission."

Charlie slightly leaned back, taking in the seriousness in Gael's expression and steepling his hands together as he waited.

Despite the calm demeanor that Gael displayed, his heart was a raging bull about to dash towards the red flag of imminent death. He'd never been this nervous before.