Chapter 423

The Fitzgerald Mansion.

Finley followed the butler down a long corridor and out into the sprawling back garden.

The garden was a riot of color, with rare and exquisite blooms everywhere. In the center stood a delicate marble fountain, its clear water spilling gently from the mouth of a stone cherub.

Victor was dressed casually, crouched on the grass, tossing a rubber ball for his fluffy dog, Pudding.

Each time Victor raised his arm and sent the ball sailing across the lawn, it was impossible to tell where it landed; he threw it that far. But after a moment, Pudding would always come bounding back, ball held proudly in his teeth.

Catching sight of Finley out of the corner of his eye, Victor rose with his usual easy nonchalance and headed over to one of the garden chairs.

The next time Pudding returned, Finley, toolbox in hand, knelt down, opened his case, and pulled out a stethoscope. With practiced movements, he began a quick check-up.

Pudding obediently dropped the ball onto the grass and sat perfectly still, as if he knew the drill.

When Finley finished, Pudding trotted straight back to Victor's side and plopped down by his feet.

announced, straightening up. "Just a bit of a

loudly in protest-clearly refusing to admit he was

looking after this dog for years, and he still acts like I'm

was the director of the city's animal hospital, and he'd been Pudding's doctor for almost a decade now. This pampered mutt didn't know

curled in a lazy half-smile. "Maybe he just doesn't like your

shot back, feigning offense. "Everyone in Capitolion knows I'm the most popular

revolved around Victor alone. It

leg crossed over the other,

anymore. Try not to drag me out to play fetch every five

with dignified indifference and

help but laugh. "Honestly, he's

flowers. With their sharp features and tall frames, they looked like they'd stepped out of

setting down a platter of fresh fruit and a pot of coffee on

popped a grape into his mouth. "So, did you really call me here

dog rotten-he had two live-in pet sitters, and Finley was only one of at least three vets

of coffee, his gaze lingering on Pudding playing nearby. "I'm going

Finley blinked. "Wait, what?"

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