Chapter 11
Chapter 11
ALICIA
I never expected Damien to have a son.
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I stood there by the parking lot, the phone still warm against my cheek after Damien’s call, but my heart felt cold. Frozen, almost. His voice had sounded frantic, uncertain. I could tell he was trying not to panic, but there was an urgency in his tone when he said the words: my son is missing.
Son.
I didn’t move at first. I just stood there, watching the cars slide by, my thoughts tangled. Damien had a child, and Diana had brought him to the hotel?
I had seen her when I was leaving the hotel earlier, but I made sure she did not see me.
But who was Damien’s mother and why was she letting her son be carried about by a woman like Diana? Or did Damien’s love for Diana blind him to how evil and selfish she was?
I shook my head and began scanning the area around the hotel, eyes darting from one small head to another, until I spotted a little boy crouched beside a bench near the parking lot, poking at something with a stick.
He was small. Maybe five or six.
Something in me stirred.
He looked like Damien.
The same eyes. The same thoughtful way of tilting his head. My breath caught. This child–this boy–he had to be Jeff.
I approached slowly, and as I drew closer, I saw it more clearly. His hair was the same color as mine. His brows furrowed the same way when he was focused. And when he looked up at me, blinking in surprise, I nearly forgot what I was supposed to do.
“Hi,” I said gently, crouching to his level. “Are you Jeff?”
He nodded. “I saw my dad’s car, and a puppy too.”
I smiled. “Your dad’s looking for you. Can you come with me?”
“Who are you?” He asked.
I’m Cía Jones, your dad’s assistant,” I told him.
He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Jones. You are very beautiful.”
I chuckled, impressed by his manners. “Your dad is worried sick, looking for you. Should I call him so you’ll speak to him?
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Chapter 11
He nodded. ‘I will really love that, Miss Jones.”
After we spoke to his dad, I began leading him to where Damien’s car was parked.
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As we started walking, he slipped his small hand into mine without hesitation, and began to chat away.
We were walking, talking–he told me his full name, age, school, favorite cartoon, how much he hated carrots, and how he had run off because he thought he saw a puppy. I laughed, genuinely laughed, for the first time in a long while.
It was all too perfect. Too… warm.
By the time Damien arrived, we were both laughing over a silly knock–knock joke. I saw him stop a few feet away, his expression unreadable as he watched us. I could feel his eyes on me, taking in the scene–me and his son, hand in hand, playing and smiling.
The moment stretched.
It surprised me.
He’d been attracted to me last night. I saw it in his eyes, felt it in his silence, in the way he kept looking at me when he thought I was drunk out of my wits.
He was getting attracted to Cia Jones and that meant progress.
Still, I knew I had to be careful. I was already skating on thin ice. If Diana saw me… if she recognized me, everything would unravel. She couldn’t know I was out of prison. No one could. Only Amara Blake knew the truth, and a few people at the foundation.
I had worked too hard, clawed my way too far to risk it all now.
I needed to keep Damien impressed. Keep him distracted.
Damien kept standing at a distance, eyes fixed on Jeff and me as we chased each other around the car park, the early sun painting golden hues on the concrete beneath our feet.
Jeff had just tagged me and darted away, his giggles echoing between the cars, too fast for someone his size. I pretended to stumble, then picked up speed, catching him around the waist and lifting him off the ground, spinning him in the air as he shrieked with laughter. His curls bounced against his forehead, and for a moment, I forgot everything.
I turned toward Damien, grinning. “Your son is absolutely adorable,” I said, still slightly breathless from the game. “He’s so intelligent, and the way he says ‘thank you‘ each time I do something small–it’s rare. You raised a good one.”
Damien walked closer, and I noticed the faint shift in his expression. I nodded toward Jett. “He looks just like you. Especially his eyes. Those are yours. Who is his mother?”
He smiled, but it was fleeting. Like a shutter slamming down. “His mom, Diana, is up in my hotel room, resting.
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Chapter 11
:
My smile remained on the surface, but inside, something buckled.
His mother?
Diana?
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t gasp. But I felt the world tilt a little.
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Diana. The witch who came to visit me in prison wearing a fake look of pity and false promises. The same woman who walked away after ruining my life and letting me rot behind bars. That Diana?
She had a child? This child?
Going by Jeff’s age… she had to have been pregnant back then. Pregnant, yet still cold enough to sit across from me and twist the knife deeper into my ruined life.
How could she?
How could she look me in the eye while carrying a child of her own and show no compassion?
And now here was her son–bright–eyed, full of joy, clinging to my hand, laughing without a care in the world. I let go of Jeff’s hand before I realized I was doing it.
He looked up, confused. But I just stepped back slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear and forcing a smile.
Damien said something about wanting to spend the day with Jeff. I nodded mechanically.
If I was going to get through this, I had to play smart. Jeff was just a child. He didn’t choose his mother. And if I wanted Damien to fall for me–if I wanted to stay close enough to pull off everything I’d come here to do- then I needed his son to like me.
Still, it hurt.
The cruel twist of fate that placed Diana in the arms of comfort, delivering a healthy child, while I…
I clenched my hands by my sides.
I remembered the cold hospital room. The guards who watched me scream through labor like it was a show. The silence that followed. No baby. No warm blanket. Just emptiness and blood.
If I’d received half the care Diana probably did, maybe my baby would have lived. Maybe I’d be holding my own child right now instead of pretending not to crumble now that I was staring at Jett.
We got into the car. Damien had a meeting and said us we could come along. I asked if he was sure, and he gave tha half–smile of his.
“We’ll go together,” he said. “I won’t be long. Just stay with Jeff in the car while I handle things inside.”
I nodded, thankful for the tinted windows.
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Chapter 11
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Jeff chatted as we drove. He pointed out trees shaped like animals and asked me if I liked superheroes. When we parked at the venue, Damien looked back at him. “Be good, alright? Stay with Miss Jones.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
When Damien left, Jeff turned to me eagerly, holding a small toy car. “Wanna race cars with me?”
I looked away.
“Not now.”
He hesitated. Then, after a few seconds of silence, he pulled on my sleeve.
“Did I do something wrong?”
I didn’t respond.
He looked down, then covered his ears. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to be bad.”
My heart cracked.
He was trembling slightly. “I just wanted to play. Mommy doesn’t like me. She always ignores me. I thought maybe… maybe you liked me.”
I closed my eyes.
I should hate him. But in that moment, all I saw was a boy who wanted to be loved. Who deserved to be loved.
I opened my arms slowly.
And I hugged him tightly. “Of course I like you, darling. And I’ll never stop. I promise.”
