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She narrowed her eyes, twisting her wrist.

“Lorenzo,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “Don’t push it. You’re already crossing lines.”

He leaned closer, the corners of his lips twitching. “Let’s practice. Grandpa will be here any second. If we look distant, he won’t believe we’re still a loving couple.”

Before she could curse him out, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Grayson entered the room, smiling warmly when he saw them sitting close and whispering. “See? I knew there was nothing wrong between you two.”

He walked to the table. “It’s good to see you both getting along. You're not getting a divorce, are you?”

Krystal and Lorenzo glanced at each other, then back at Grayson.

He kept going, unaware of the tension. “I’ve been hearing all kinds of rumors. It had me worried sick.”

Lorenzo wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Of course not. Who told you that nonsense? I have a very good relationship with Krystal.”

Krystal kicked him under the table. Hard.

Lorenzo winced, looking at her in disbelief. She gave him a fake, sweet smile before turning back to Grayson.

“You’re here early, Grandpa,” she said, gesturing to the food. “Come eat with us.”

Grayson sat down, clearly pleased.

Lorenzo served him a plate, then looked over at Krystal and casually added more to her plate. “Here,” he said, sliding the plate toward her.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, pushing the plate back.

“You call that fine?” he said, frowning. “You haven’t even eaten properly.”

He picked up a slice of apple, leaned back in his chair, and held it up to her lips. “Eat this,” he said with a smile.

Krystal shot him a glare, her teeth grinding in pure annoyance. But even then he didn't even flinch.

He just glanced back at Grayson and said casually, “See? Even Grandpa’s worried that you’ve gotten thinner.”

Krystal inhaled sharply, frustrated. Forcing a stiff smile on her face, she opened her mouth to reply, but Lorenzo beat her to it—he shoved an apple slice between her lips. She bit it instinctively, chewing as he popped the rest of it into his own mouth without breaking eye contact.

She stared at him, stunned. ‘You really are something,’ she thought, disbelief curling in her chest. ‘An Oscar-worthy performance in front of Grandpa? You throw me out like garbage one day and now act like some saint?’ A dry, bitter laugh escaped her lips. ‘If you love acting that much, go ahead—I’ll make sure you act until it kills you!’

Smiling sweetly, she picked up a bunch of diced capsicums from the dish. No one knew better than her—someone who’d cooked three meals a day for this man that hehatedcapsicum. But she scooped up a spoonful and held it out to him.

“Here,” she said lovingly.

Lorenzo paused, jaw tightening, but opened his mouth and took the bite. He chewed silently, a forced smile on his lips. The second the capsicum hit his tongue, his face twisted like he’d been stabbed in the gut.

Krystal almost lost it, biting her lip to keep from laughing as his eyes watered and he fought through the taste. She had to turn away, shoulders shaking. It was so damn satisfying.

Grayson, oblivious to the tension simmering between them, looked between them proudly. “See? Love changes everything. Lorenzo used to hate capsicum so much, but now he’s eating it by the spoonful like it’s his favorite dish.”

Lorenzo glanced at Krystal with a faint, affectionate smile and said smoothly, “If it’s from Krystal’s hands, I’ll eat anything.”

Krystal blinked hard, suppressing the gag rising in her throat. ‘This man is unbelievable!’

By evening, things went from awkward to absurd.

After dinner, Krystal found her bedroom door locked from the outside.