Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 231

**Chapter 231**

It was Julian standing there, freshly emerged from the shower, clad in deep-blue loungewear that clung to his form in a way that was both relaxed and undeniably commanding. In contrast to the crisp, tailored suits that he typically wore, this attire lent him an air of casual authority, softened by the hint of ease that came with being at home.

Sydney felt a wave of relief wash over her as she opened the door, her heart racing slightly. “You’re not staying at the old estate tonight?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

He shot her a sidelong glance, his expression revealing the disdain he felt for her half-hearted inquiry. “When have I ever stayed there?” he replied, his tone sharp, as if the answer were as obvious as the sky was blue.

She couldn’t help but acknowledge the truth in his words. It was a pointless question, really. Ever since he had moved out eight long years ago, the Shang estate had become a ghost of their past, a place he had never returned to for even a single night.

Understanding his particularities all too well, Sydney had already set out a fresh pair of guest slippers, placing them neatly on the floor.

Julian’s gaze flicked down to the slippers, and a subtle chill crept into his voice as he asked, “Whose are these?”

Without glancing back, she headed toward the kitchen, her mind already racing ahead. “Yours,” she replied, the word hanging in the air between them.

A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, almost imperceptible, as he stepped inside, moving with a confidence that suggested he was in his own domain.

As she carried a box of muffins, he showed no surprise, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Midnight snack?” he inquired, his tone casual yet probing.

At the Sterling estate, Sydney had never been able to indulge in a proper meal, and after the emotional turmoil of the day, her appetite had all but vanished.

“Yeah,” she replied, flicking on the kitchen light, illuminating the space with a warm glow.

He pulled out a chair at the dining table, settling down with an ease that belied the tension that often surrounded them.

“Heat some for me too,” he commanded, the order rolling off his tongue as naturally as a breath.

A question bubbled up in Sydney’s mind—had he not eaten either? But as she recalled the stifling atmosphere during dinner, she wisely decided against voicing her thoughts. Instead, she moved toward the kitchen, her mind focused on the task at hand.

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