Chapter 10

VERONICA I stormed into my room and closed the door, leaning against it to catch my breath. My pulse raced, and my legs trembled, causing me to almost lose my balance. I suppressed a rising feeling of anxiety as the recent encounter replayed in my mind—had it not been for Blake's timely intervention, the consequences would have been—No, no, no! I covered my mouth, realizing the gravity of the situation. Stupid woman! I scolded myself. How could I lose myself in front of him? The man who hurt me, pushed me to the edge and forced me to leave my own son.— How could I be so shameless as to fall into his web? How could I react so pathetically in front of him? Wasn't he murmuring her name in his unconscious state only? How could he behave that way? I pulled my hair in frustration. Anger and embarrassment gripped me strongly. I felt like disappearing into thin air. How could his presence still affect me even after the heartache he caused me? Fuck! Why did I even bother to check on him!? Shit!— No, no, no, hold your grip, Veronica. You can't lose, not again to the same man. You have to be strong for your kids. He took your son; you can't risk losing your daughter as well. I firmly reminded myself of the reality, and with another sharp breath, I stood up. Looking out the window, I noticed the rainstorm had stopped. The thought of being separated from my son is heartbreaking, but I have no other option. This clarifies my plan to maintain contact with him. Even if he leaves today, I am determined to stay in touch, and nothing will prevent me from doing so... My train of thought was interrupted by the loud ringing of my phone, which I retrieved from my bedside table. It was Zaya, and I answered her call promptly. "Hey, what have I heard?" came her anxious tone as soon as I received her call. "Is it true? Is he really staying at your place?" I sighed inwardly. No wonder George had told her about Christian. "Hmm, it's true," I replied. "Oh!" she gasped. "Are you alright now? What about Cade? Did he learn about her?" She knew my fears and concerns about us; she and George had always been that way in my life, my true friends in distress. "He met her but doesn't know the truth yet. Perhaps he thinks I'm with another man now," I muttered while trailing back to the intimate scene between us. He thinks I'm with another man now, stil he— what an asshole! She sighed, "Thank God. Do you plan to tell him?" she asked. "No," an immediate answer left me, perhaps a little harsh. "He does not deserve to know or interfere in our lives," I added. "Hmm, if you say so," she said softly. "The rain has stopped now. I'll visit you soon with a cake and the gifts I have prepared for my little doll. Sigh—I've felt so lonely these days without her." It warmed my heart to hear her speak so fondly of Cadence. I know she deeply desires to be a mother. They've undergone extensive testing and treatment over the years without success. Having been a close confidante throughout their journey, I've witnessed their struggles and felt their pain. Therefore, when Cadence was born, I happily welcomed them into her life as secondary parents, particularly Zaya. Cadence even calls her "Mama." Because Zaya primarily stays home, I feel much more at ease with my demanding schedule and late night emergencies. "You should stop spoiling her," I suggested gently, trying to hide my amusement, only to hear her express her disagreement. "Why would I!?" I pictured her frowning. "One strict mother is sufficient! I intend to spoil my princess, and your opinion on the matter is irrelevant." She rejected my suggestion outright, and I chuckled. "Very well, I understand. I will not interfere between you." "Thank you!" she replied, and we both laughed. After a few more pleasantries, we ended our conversation. A conversation with her eased my mind somewhat, and I then went to check on the children. Both were awake, and I saw Zeon already refreshed and assisting his sister. It warmed my heart to see their bond. Once they were ready, I leaned down, smiled, and asked, "So, what would you like for breakfast?" "Pangcakes!" Cadence exclaimed in her sweet, childlike voice. "Very well, pancakes for the kitten." I gently stroked her head and turned to my son. "And what would my dear boy like to eat?" I inquired. He blinked, then looked away, his face reddening slightly. "Whatever you would like, Mom," he softly replied, and I smiled, caressing his cheeks. "Alright," I said, knowing what he enjoys. He's just like his father; he dislikes excessively sweet or sour foods. I gently guided them downstairs; I was relieved that the man was not yet present. I'm not ready to confront him. After seating them at the dining table, I proceeded to the kitchen to prepare their breakfast. I also made myself some coffee when my assistant, Blake, remarked, "That smells wonderful!" "Would you care for some?" I inquired. He offered a shy smile and nodded, "That would be delightful." "Certainly," I replied, pouring him a cup of coffee. Soon, breakfast was served, but I noticed Zeon wasn't eating. "Is something wrong? Why aren't you eating? Is there something you don't like?" I inquired. I had prepared toast, sausages, eggs, and a glass of milk for him. He usually enjoys this for breakfast, well, that's what I've known. so I wondered what was amiss. Did his preferences change? Or, could it be that he didn't like my cooking? He immediately shook his head and said, "No, I like it." He then looked toward the stairs as if searching for someone. "Papa—is he not awake yet?" he inquired softly. A strange feeling washed over me. Naturally, he would want his father. I smiled reassuringly, concealing my apprehension. "Don't worry, he is fine. I will ask him to join us," I replied. "A-allow me to go," Assistant Blake offered quickly, but I stopped him. "It's quite alright. You should eat your breakfast," I reassured him. With a slightly racing heart, I proceeded upstairs, only to encounter him on the way. The earlier scene replayed in my mind as I averted my gaze, clearing my throat. "Ze-eon is asking for you; you should join us for breakfast," I stated and turned to leave, but froze when he grabbed my arm. I yanked my hand away and glared at him. "What are you doing?" I hissed. What's gotten into him this morning? He did not reply but stepped closer, our gazes fixed on each other. "Why? Are you afraid of being misunderstood by that man?" His voice was deep yet intense. The look in his eyes was strange, and I felt annoyed by his remarks. I swallowed hard, yet held his gaze firmly. "I fear nothing, Mr. Wolfe, and you must restrain yourself. My man will not misunderstand; however, your lover will create havoc, and I will not tolerate it." I coldly warned him as I saw his brows furrowing. Without giving him a chance to reprimand me, I left the stairs while he almost roared behind, "Veronica!" Yet, I did not wait. I waited for him five long years, yet he chose his first love over everything. There is no way I am going to turn to him again. As I passed the stairs, the doorbell rang. Assuming it was Zaya, I was about to answer the door when I was harshly pulled back against a strong chest. I gasped and looked up to see Christian's deep blue eyes gazing at me... As if—as if he's blaming me! My confusion escalated to frustration. "Christian you're—" "Christian!" My voice was interrupted by a loud, familiar shriek. Startled, my eyes quickly turned in that direction as a gasp of surprise escaped my lips—Celine! What is she doing here!?