Kaelan

“Dinner, Mr. Kaelan,” Celine said as I got downstairs, dressed in casual, but expensive pants and shirt.

“I do not have appetite,” I told her without stopping.

I was heading for the front door, but when I noticed that she seemed to be following me, I stopped and turned to her.

“What is it?” I asked her stiffly.

Celine didn’t deserve my anger, but then again, she was infuriating me by merely walking with me.

“I am worried, Mr. Kaelan,” she said.

“Why?” I asked ...