?Chapter 502:


    In all these years, he had never once considered marrying again. Part of that was due to his position, which attracted too many women with motives he couldn’t trust.


    Still, the deeper truth pointed back to Mnie.


    At his wife’s grave, Hurst had once made a silent promise—to pour every drop of love and protection into their daughter’s life. Since then, he had chosen solitude, channeling everything into his work and his role as a father.


    For the longest time, he believed that would be enough.


    But now, after hearing Mnie’s unexpected words, a sliver of doubt began to carve into that certainty.


    It became painfully clear that his daughter needed more than a stable home and financial security.


    What she truly longed for was something warmer — a mother’s presence, her voice, her arms, her steadiness.


    Hurst pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the sudden heaviness in his chest.


    Maybe it was finally time to think about someone who could stand beside him — not for himself, but for Mnie’s sake.


    Darkness had settled fully, and a soft breeze driftedzily through the quiet air.


    By the time Chris reached the foot of the stairs, a nce at his watch confirmed that it was already well past ten-thirty. The neighborhood, at this hour, had fallen into thatte-night hush where every sound seemed to echo.


    Assuming that she was already home, Chris figured that she would be asleep by now.


    He climbed the stairs, slid the key into the lock, and eased the door open.


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    To his surprise, he caught a faint aroma wafting from the kitchen as soon as he entered.


    Chris stopped in his tracks and nced over. The kitchen light was still glowing. Maia stood at the stove, quietly focused.


    She wore afy set of loungewear. The soft glow traced the outline of her figure, casting a warm, peaceful scene that felt almost like a painting.


    Something flickered in Chris’ eyes — curiosity and a sh of surprise. What was keeping her up thiste?


    Before he could say anything, Maia turned from the stove and carried a bowl of steaming soup straight to the table.


    Her gaze lifted mid-step, catching sight of him just as he stood in the entryway. She blinked, surprised by the timing. He had shown up at the exact moment she’d finished.


    After taking Ethan home, she’de back earlier than usual, slipping into the kitchen the moment she returned.


    Two full hours had gone into preparing the soup — measured, stirred, and simmered with care.


    She didn’t overthink it. “I made you something to eat before bed,” she said simply, her words soft in thete-night quiet.


    Chris’ expression shifted, a quiet flicker behind his eyes. From the arena to the dark corners of the ck market with Maxwell, he hadn’t stopped long enough to notice his own needs.


    Until now, food hadn’t even crossed his mind. But the scent wed at him, and his stomach twisted with sudden urgency.


    He cleared his throat, walked to the table, and pulled out a chair with quiet intention. As he sat down, his gaze lifted to hers, holding steady, warm, and unexpectedly tender.


    Noticing the way his eyes lingered, Maia narrowed hers. “What’s with that look you’re giving me?”


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