Soren was taken aback by Serafina’s bold confidence. He scoffed, “I doubt it.” Serafina pouted, ready to retaliate, when a sharp knock at the door silenced her. Before Beckham could speak, Serafina quickly adopted Soren’s bossy demeanor and interrupted him. “Hey, Ren, door duty! Grandpa and I are busy!” Soren glared at her. With a grumbling sigh, he abandoned his Rubik’s Cube and made his way to the door. The door swung open to reveal Cherise and Damien, carrying bags of groceries. Cherise and Damien entered, burdened with groceries. “Ren! We haven’t seen our little man since yesterday!” Cherise exclaimed, embracing him. Soren squirmed in her arms, grumbling, “Ms. Shaw, you’re practically an adult – can we skip the baby talk? It’s embarrassing.” Cherise was stunned. Beside her, Damien burst into laughter and dropped his bags. “Right on target.” Cherise stammered, unable to speak. How could asking her son if he missed her be embarrassing? “Is it Cherry and Dame?” Beckham’s voice came from inside the house as he emerged, with Serafina’s braid neatly tied with a bright pink band. “What’s going on? Why are you two here so early?” Cherise pointed at the ingredients Damien was

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feast to cheer him up. What do you think?” Initially, Damien approved of Cherise’s idea. But as they navigated the aisles, Damien noticed a pattern. All the ingredients were for dishes he knew – the ones she loved, the ones he cooked flawlessly. He had a suspicion that she was scheming something, and voila! This woman had set a trap and caught him off guard. Refusing to cook in front of Beckham was not an

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