My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 177: Morning Temptation

The mansion was quiet, too quiet, which was just the way Felix liked it. After last night’s struggl , he had hoped for a calm start.

He strode down the hallway, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing veins running taut over tensed forearms. His brows were slightly furrowed, dark lashes still heavy with sleep, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he paused in front of the guest room door.

He knocked once. No answer.

Fingers gripping the doorknob, he pushed the door open.

Empty.

The sheets on the bed were neatly arranged, untouched. His eyes narrowed. "She left?" he muttered under his breath, stepping into the room to scan for any sign of her belongings.

Nothing. Not even the heels she’d stumbled in with last night.

He let out a breath, part relief, part tension, as he turned back toward the hallway. Good. This was for the best. Lara always brought trouble, even if she didn’t mean to. Last night had been a mess. He wasn’t sure what part of it lingered heavier, the weight of her body pressed against him when he’d tripped or the desperation in her voice when she clung to him afterward.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way toward the kitchen.

But the moment he turned the corner, he froze.

The scent of something savory drifted to his nose, eggs, maybe? Toast? The sizzling of butter in a hot pan broke the quiet.

And there she was.

Lara was humming softly, swaying her hips as she flipped something in a pan.

Felix blinked once.

"You’re still here?"

She turned toward him with a slow, mischievous smile. "Oh? Good morning to you, too."

Then, with a little mock gasp, she added, "Wow, Felix. You look so disappointed. What, were you hoping I’d vanish into thin air overnight?"

He didn’t respond right away. His eyes flicked to the stove, then back to her, then to the plate she was already setting on the counter like she’d done this a dozen times before. Her hair was messy, her mascara faintly smudged, but she didn’t seem to care. Never did. She wore chaos like a second skin.

He frowned, rubbing a hand over his face as he stepped farther into the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Laundry," she said flatly.

He raised a brow. "Really?"

Lara finally looked over her shoulder, flashing him a grin. "What do you think I’m doing? I’m obviously cooking."

He stared at her, the absurdity of her standing there like she lived there, momentarily robbing him of a response. The way she moved, so comfortable and self-assured, it unsettled him more than it should’ve.

"I hope you don’t mind if I use your kitchen," she said, casually flipping a piece of toast onto a plate.

She carried the plate to the kitchen island and set it down with a bit of flair. "One of my many hidden talents: cooking. Still sure you won’t fall in love with me?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"I’m kidding," she added with a chuckle before he could respond. "This is just a thank you meal. Gratitude. You rescued me from that awful bar last night. And I thought... why not show appreciation the old-fashioned way?"

Felix didn’t move. His expression remained stoic, his arms still folded. "You could’ve left a note."

"Where’s the fun in that?" she teased, taking a seat at the kitchen island and patting the chair next to her. "Sit with me. Come on. I promise I didn’t poison the food."

He hesitated. But then she tilted her head and said with a little pout, "Can’t I at least have breakfast with you if I can’t have you all to myself?"

That pulled a sigh from him. She was impossible to deal with.

But he sat down anyway.

Felix picked up his fork, but before he took a bite, he muttered internally, This isn’t about her. I just don’t want to waste food.

That was all. Nothing more.

They ate mostly in silence at first. Lara had made scrambled eggs, toast with avocado, and sautéed mushrooms. It was surprisingly well done.

"You used to cook a lot?" he asked finally, cutting into his toast.

"When I lived with my grandmother," she said with a small smile. "I picked up a lot of things back then. Learned how to charm with food. Among other things."

Felix’s fork paused, but she quickly added, "Don’t worry, I won’t launch into my tragic backstory. Not unless you ask nicely."

He resumed eating, keeping his gaze low.

Lara studied him as she sipped her coffee. "You’re really not going to warm up to me, huh?"

"I’m not yours to warm up to," Felix said simply.

"I know," she said, voice quieter this time. "But you could be."

He looked at her then. Really looked.

There was something different about her in the morning light. Less makeup. No heels. Just Lara. For a moment, he wondered what she would’ve been like without all the masks and flirtations.

Then she smiled again, bright, teasing. "I’ll go after this," she said, pushing her plate forward. "I know I’ve overstayed."

Felix didn’t stop her.

She stood and stretched, the hem of his shirt lifting slightly with the motion, revealing smooth skin beneath. She caught his gaze and laughed. "Careful, you keep looking at me like that, and I might start getting ideas again."

"I wasn’t looking," he muttered, picking up the plates.

She walked toward the doorway but paused, her fingers resting lightly on the frame.

"Thanks, Felix. For last night. And this morning."

Her voice was soft. Real.

He gave a small nod. "Take care of yourself, Lara."

She offered a final smile, then turned and walked out of the kitchen.

He listened to the soft sound of her footsteps retreating down the hallway and the quiet click of the front door opening.

Felix leaned against the counter, his fingers tightening around the edge.

She was gone.

For now.

And despite everything, a strange emptiness settled in the kitchen.