𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 Ⅺ

𝓃𝑜𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎'𝓈 𝓅𝑜𝓋

Giselle woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, the scent of fresh air and pine drifting in from the open balcony doors. The warmth of Michael's body was still wrapped around her, his arm draped lazily across her waist.

She turned slightly, watching him sleep—his curls tousled, lips slightly parted, his bare chest rising and falling with each steady breath.

A slow smile spread across her face. Last night felt like a dream.

She traced her fingers lightly over his arm, but as she tried to move, he tightened his grip around her.

"Mmm, where you goin'?" His voice was thick with sleep, muffled against her skin.

"Getting up," she whispered, giggling softly as he nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Five more minutes," he murmured.

She laughed. "Come on, we gotta eat."

Michael groaned dramatically but finally let her go. "Fine. But you owe me."

She arched a brow. "Owe you what?"

He smirked. "I'll let you figure that out."

Giselle rolled her eyes playfully before slipping out of bed. They both got dressed—Michael in a casual button-up and slacks, and Giselle in a soft sweater and jeans—before heading downstairs.

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The scent of bacon and fresh-baked biscuits filled the air as they entered the kitchen. Katherine was at the stove, humming a tune while flipping pancakes.

"Good morning, Mother," Michael greeted, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Morning, baby," Katherine said warmly. She glanced at Giselle. "Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"

Giselle felt a blush creeping up her neck. "Uh—yes, ma'am."

Before Katherine could say anything else, Janet waltzed into the kitchen, grinning mischievously.

"Well, well, well," she teased, plopping onto a chair. "So what was all that noise comin' from y'all's room last night?"

Giselle nearly choked on air, and Michael rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," he said, avoiding his sister's knowing smirk.

"Oh, please," Janet laughed. "The walls ain't that thick."

Giselle covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God."

Katherine shot Janet a warning look. "Janet, behave."

Janet just giggled. "I'm just sayin'. Y'all were—"

"Eat your breakfast," Michael cut in, shoving a biscuit onto her plate.

Janet winked at Giselle, who was still red-faced, before taking a bite of her food.

After breakfast, Michael leaned over to Giselle. "Wanna go for a ride?"

She looked at him curiously. "Ride?"

He smirked. "On horseback."

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The warm California sun bathed Neverland in golden light as they rode side by side through the trails, the fresh mountain air filling their lungs. Giselle was still getting used to riding, but with Michael's guidance, she was beginning to enjoy it.

"This is nice," she admitted, gently patting the side of her horse.

"Told you," Michael said, smiling.

As they rode further into the hills, Michael slowed his horse, looking out at the horizon. Giselle followed his gaze, taking in the breathtaking view of the ranch below.

Michael exhaled deeply before turning to her. "I've been thinkin' a lot lately."

"About what?" she asked.

"Us."

Giselle's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "About the future... what I want. What I see for us."

She swallowed. "And what do you see?"

Michael turned his horse slightly, facing her. "I see us together, Gigi. For real. Married, kids running around this place, a real home. Not just some temporary thing."

Giselle's chest tightened. She hadn't expected him to be so open about it—about wanting something so serious.

"You ever think about that?" he asked, searching her face.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... I do."

A slow smile tugged at Michael's lips. "Good."

Giselle chewed her lip, her mind racing. Could she really picture herself as his wife? The mother of his kids?

But as she looked at him—his eyes filled with certainty, his presence grounding her—it didn't seem so impossible.

Maybe... just maybe, she already belonged to him.

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Night had fallen over Neverland, casting a peaceful hush over the vast estate. The cool evening breeze filtered through the curtains as Giselle sat in the cozy living room with Katherine, a cup of chamomile tea in her hands. Michael had stepped out for a while, leaving her alone with his mother, who seemed eager to talk.

Katherine sat across from her, her eyes warm but observant. "You know, Michael never really brings women home like this," she said with a small smile.

Giselle tucked a curl behind her ear. "He doesn't?"

Katherine shook her head. "Not since... well, not since Lisa." She sighed, her expression growing wistful. "I still don't understand what happened between them. One day, they were married, and the next, it was all over."

Giselle shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling uneasy. She had never asked Michael about his marriage, and now his mother was bringing it up as if she assumed Giselle knew.

Katherine looked at her curiously. "How did you two meet, dear? Michael never really told me."

Giselle hesitated. She couldn't tell Katherine the truth—that Michael had met her through the chaos of his underworld dealings. That wouldn't sit right with her.

So she did the next best thing—she lied.

"I met him through his job," she said, forcing a smile. "At a bar near my mother's hair salon. He... used to come in sometimes."

Katherine seemed to accept this answer with a nod. "I see. That sounds like him. He's always been the type to find peace in small, quiet places." She exhaled, her gaze distant. "I just worry about him, you know? He's been carrying so much on his shoulders since he was a boy."

Giselle frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Katherine took a sip of her tea before setting it down gently. "Michael was only a child when he had to start supporting us. We were struggling with money, and Joe... well, he was determined to make sure Michael made something of himself. But all that pressure, all those sacrifices—it wasn't fair to him. He had to grow up too fast."

Giselle's chest tightened at the thought of a young Michael, forced into a role no child should have to bear. 

"He worked so hard," Katherine continued, her voice heavy with emotion. "And when he finally made it, all that money he earned—it wasn't just for him. He took care of us. He paid for everything. Our home, his siblings, even Joe's debts.he can never come to visit, working hard to send some money because hes too busy making sure we are all okay."

Giselle swallowed hard, her heart aching for him. No wonder Michael was so guarded, so obsessed with control. He had been conditioned to carry the weight of the world alone.

Katherine let out a soft sigh. "I just hope that whatever he has with you, it brings him peace. That's all I want for him."

Giselle nodded slowly. "I do too."

Katherine patted her hand gently before shifting the conversation. "Tell me about your family, dear. Your mother, your sister. What are they like?"

Giselle blinked, shaking off the heaviness of their previous topic. "Oh... well, my mother, Tina, she owns a hair salon. She's a strong woman, a bit overprotective, but she means well."

"And your sister?"

Giselle hesitated for a moment before answering. "Solange... she's different from me. Wild, free-spirited. She's always been the rebellious one." She chuckled softly. "I guess in a way, I've always felt responsible for her. Since my father left when we were kids, I had to step up."

Katherine nodded in understanding. "So you know what it's like to carry weight that's not yours to bear."

Giselle exhaled slowly. "Yeah... I guess I do."

The two women shared a knowing look, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

At that moment, Giselle realized—Katherine wasn't just Michael's mother. She was a woman who had seen the weight of sacrifice, just like she had.