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After Kincaid left, the warm glow of the evening sun painted the mansion's walls in shades of gold. Mr. Pierre and Maria found themselves sitting in the elegant living room, a gentle breeze rustling the curtains.

Mr. Pierre studied his granddaughter's face, noticing the wistful look in her eyes. "Maria, my dear, what are you hoping for with Kincaid?" he asked gently.

Maria's calm façade vanished into thin air, replaced by a flicker of arrogance. "Well, Grandfather," she began, "I might not know exactly what I'm hoping for, but there's something about Kincaid that intrigues me. He doesn't appear to be someone who's interested in me, but I can't help but feel drawn to him."

Mr. Pierre smiled knowingly, reaching out to hold Maria's hands warmly. "My dearest girl, the heart can be a complex thing. It may not always align with what our eyes see. Kincaid is a remarkable man, and I understand why you find him intriguing. If there's something you desire, I support you wholeheartedly."

Maria's
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