Jenna Roland gave a slight nod. "Yes, his classmate's family invited him to stay for dinner."

"Let's eat." Ethan Roscente averted his gaze and picked up a portion of sautéed garlic stems with pork.

Vanessa Galatea stared at the spread of dishes.

Just ordinary home-cooked meals—nothing as extraordinary as Sophie Roscente had boasted.

Her peripheral vision caught Ethan.

The man ate with focused precision, every movement exuding effortless elegance.

Vanessa smirked and stabbed her chopsticks into the steamed fish.

The first bite brought an unmistakable sneer to her brows.

But as the tender flesh slid down her throat, her expression shifted imperceptibly.

Sophie noticed the change. "Vanessa, my sister-in-law's cooking isn't bad, right?"

"Edible at best." Vanessa turned her face away, though the tips of her ears betrayed a faint flush.

"Don't touch it if you don't like it." Ethan's voice cut through like shards of ice.

The air froze instantly.

Jenna quickly stood. "Would anyone like juice? There's freshly squeezed in the fridge."

"Doesn't she have hands?" Ethan's glacial stare swept over Vanessa.

Jenna still retrieved a glass tumbler, where orange liquid caught the light in dancing flecks of gold.

"Here you go, Miss Galatea."

Ethan's brow furrowed, but he remained silent.

Sophie's eyes gleamed as she snatched the juice bottle. "I'll pour my own, sis!"

Her gaze darted to Ethan's tense jawline, and fireworks exploded in her chest.

Her brother was being possessive!

Only the clinking of cutlery filled the dining room.

Vanessa's knuckles whitened around her chopsticks.

Sophie gulped down half her juice. "So where are you working now, sis?"