SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

SIXTY THREE

MORGAN'S POV

We enter Nico's private entrance, and I can't help but be in awe. This place is gorgeous. He bought this house a few months ago and immediately asked me to redecorate it for him. It's got that old-money, historic kind of vibe—rich but not in-your-face modern, more like a warm Christmas evening. You know, where everything feels cozy, like you wanna curl up with hot cocoa and never leave.

We had the whole plan laid out at the office. He dropped by a few times last week to go over the details, and honestly, I think we nailed it. The official redecorating starts next week, but since the renovations are finally done, Jack and I thought we'd swing by with a little something to congratulate him.

And by we, I mean Jack decided we needed to bring flowers. Like, flowers. I was skeptical at first—who brings flowers for house stuff? But Jack got all deep into it, saying flowers are the perfect way to congratulate someone. Apparently, he's been reading some book about flower meanings or some shit. According to him, apple blossoms mean good fortune, and blue irises stand for hope. I'm not even sure if he's right, but he was so damn into it, I just nodded along. You ever see a dude talk passionately about flowers? Yeah, neither had I until Jack.

Honestly, I think this might be my first time here. The team from the office came over to take measurements, but I was out that day. Jack, on the other hand, is basically Nico's personal house inspector by now. Pretty sure this is his fourth visit, and the way he strolls up to the door, you'd think he owns the place. He pushes it open with this cocky little grin, like he's done this a million times before.

"Make yourself at home," he says, looking back at me with that don't worry, I got this vibe.

"Thanks, Mr. Real Estate Expert," I laugh, rolling my eyes.

He gives me a playful smirk. "Hey, just making sure my girl's hard work pays off. You know Nico's gonna love this place after you're done with it."

Jack kicks off his shoes like he owns the place and immediately strolls further in, leaving them scattered right at the entrance like a tornado just swept through. Meanwhile, I'm over here tidying up after him, trying not to trip over his mess. I take my shoes off carefully, placing them neatly by the door before stepping in. The moment I do, I gasp. This place is already insane.

It's got that old-world charm with massive windows letting in all this gorgeous light, high ceilings, and intricate woodwork. Yeah, the decor needs a little sprucing up—otherwise, why would Nico need me? But seriously, even without my magic touch, it's already pretty incredible.

But for how perfect this house is, there's no sign of Nico. It's Sunday afternoon, and let's be real—he's not off at church. That's not really his vibe.

"You sure he's here?" I ask Jack, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he told me he'd be," Jack says, casually pulling out his phone like he's got everything under control. "Why, you didn't talk to him this morning?"

He frowns at his phone, scrolling through messages like he's trying to piece together a puzzle. "Nah, I told him we'd stop by last night after the game."

Of course. Jack's terrible at planning things. I'm one hundred percent convinced they probably had that conversation while they were half-dressed in the locker room, and Nico just forgot. I roll my eyes, but at the same time, the front door was unlocked. So he's gotta be here, right?

Just as I'm about to say something, we both hear a noise coming from down the corridor. Jack's face lights up with this giant grin, like he knows exactly what's about to happen. Oh boy, I can see it coming from miles away.