HUNTER’S POV-


    I close the door behind me and press my back to it for a second, breathing her in. Her words. Her hesitation. Her lies. But it’s the truth I caught in between all of them that’s stuck inside me.


    She regrets it. The night. The choice.


    Me.


    But not him. Not the boy. And I can’t stop thinking about why.


    Why did she keep him? Why does she choose to carry the weight of that night with her for years instead of walking away from it like it never happened?


    She said she didn’t know anything about the father. Said it like it was just some random, reckless mistake. But watching her-


    Holding him-I know better now.


    She’s been carrying more than just a child all these years. She’s been carrying a secret. And something in me tells me it’s mine.


    I just don’t have the proof yet. Not enough to pull it out of her.


    But I will. I always do.


    I’m in my study. But I’m not working. I’m watching the monitor on my desk. The one that shows the living room. And her. Sitting there. Staring at that te like it holds all the answers she doesn’t want to give me.


    I lean back in my chair, steeple my fingers under my chin, and watch.


    Wait.


    Because Celine is predictable in the ways that count. When she’s angry, she’s quiet. When she’s scared, she’s stubborn. And when she’s hurting…She’s


    vulnerable.


    And that’s when she makes mistakes. That’s when I’ll get what I want. I just have to wait. But not for long.


    I’m standing outside her door. I shouldn’t be here. But I am. I listen to the silence on the other side. And I wonder if she knows I’m here.


    If she can feel it. The same way I feel her everywhere in this house. Like a ghost, I can’t outrun. Like in the past, I’m still paying for it.


    -I press my hand against the wood. It’s solid. But it wouldn’t take much to break through. Nothing does. Not for me. And soon enough, I’ll break through


    her.


    One way or another. But not tonight. Tonight, I let her sleep, Because tomorrow Tomorrow, everything changes.


    ~CELINE’S POV~


    I should’ve said no.


    When they told me to help with the wine disy in the foyer, I should’ve told them I needed to stay with Caesar.


    But I didn’t. Because this night wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about him. It was about Hunter’s business dinner, and I was supposed to be invisible.


    But nothing about tonight was going the way I wanted it to.


    “Mommy,” Caesar whined beside me earlier, tugging at the edge of my apron while I polished silverware.


    “I want that one.”


    He pointed a sticky finger toward the tiered tray the caterers had set up, loaded with delicate desserts that probably cost more than my entire paycheck.


    “Those aren’t for us,” I whispered, ncing around. “They’re for Hunter’s guests.”


    “But-” His eyes welled up instantly, that ssy blue that always cracked me. “I want one.”


    I sighed, pressing a hand over his. “If you keep crying, you won’t get any leftovers at all. Do you understand?”


    His bottom lip quivered, but he nodded. Quiet. And that should have been enough. I thought it was enough.


    But now, standing in the middle of a room full of people, I realize nothing is ever enough. Because the next time I see him, he’s on a stool.


    Reaching.


    And falling.


    “Caesar!” My scream tears from my throat, but I’m not fast enough.


    The dessert tray crashes to the ground, ss shattering, cream fruit and chocte spreading across the pristine marble like a crime scene. Hends hard, a muffled thud followed by a collective gasp from the room.


    “Someone get Celine,” a voice cuts through the air.


    I’m already running.


    I push past two caterers and nearly slip on frosting, but I don’t care. My knees hit the ground hard, scraping against the tile as I reached for him.


    “Oh my God. Caesar.” My hands search for him. His face is flushed and sticky, and dessert smeared across his cheeks.


    There’s a red mark blooming on his elbow. I pull him into my arms, cradling him tight, ignoring the mess, the stains, and the fact that my uniform is


    ruined.


    He’s breathing. Sniffling.


    He’s okay. But when I look up, Hunter is standing there. Silent. Staring. The room feels colder with him in it.


    I feel his gaze before I see his eyes. That same sharp blue that I’vee to fear. They don’t soften when theynd on Caesar. They harden.


    He pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s exhausted, but I can see his jaw tightening under his skin.


    “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. Too quickly. “I was-the-I didn’t think-”


    “That’s the problem,” he cuts me off, his voice like a de. “You didn’t think.”


    I flinch. Everyone is staring. The guests, the staff. I can feel the judgment pressing against my spine like a hand shoving me forward. Pushing me toward the edge of something I don’t want to fall into.


    Caesar stirs in my arms, his voice small. “Mommy/I’m sorry.”


    I swallow hard, pressing my lips to his temple. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”


    But I’m not. Hunter’s eyes are still on me. Heavy. Unrelenting.


    “You left him alone,” he says after a moment, his tone clipped. “I told you to keep him out of sight.”


    “I was working,” I say, my throat dry. “I didn’t think-”


    “You didn’t think,” he repeats. “And now we have a disaster in the middle of my dinner.”


    The caterers are already scrambling to clean the mess, but no one moves fast enought to erase the weight of what just happened. Of how small feel right <fn0003> The rightful source is fin?novel</fn0003>


    now.


    I tighten my grip around Caesar, standing slowly. “I’ll clean him up.”


    Húnter’s silence stretches too long. And when he finally speaks, it’s not a relief.


    “Take him away,” he says. “And make sure this doesn’t happen again.”


    “I will.” My voice is so soft I barely recognize it. I start to turn, desperate to disappear, but his voice stops me cold.


    “Celine.”


    I turn slowly, bracing myself. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t raise his voice. But the way he speaks makes my stomach twist in knots I can’t untangle.


    “I won’t be this forgiving next time.”


    My breath catches. Forgiving? Was this forgiveness? I walk away with Caesar pressed against my chest, my legs shaking so badly Em not sure how I’m moving.


    ~HUNTER’S POV~


    I watch her walk away.


    Her back is straight, but her shoulders are tense. Like she’s holding in something. Probably tears. Maybe anger. I don’t know which would be worse.


    Caesar’s head is tucked under her chin, his small arms looped around her neck. He looks like he belongs there. Like he’s always belonged there.


    I press my thumb against my temple, trying to dull the headache that’s building.


    I didn’t want this. Any of this.


    The dinner was supposed to be smooth. Controlled. Instead, I’m standing in the middle of chaos, with dessert on the floor and whispers in every corner of the room.


    “She’s the housemaid with a child, right?” someone mutters.


    “Poor kid,” another says.


    Their pity irritates me more than anything. Because they don’t know her. They don’t know anything about her. Or him.


    I exhale slowly, dragging my fingers through my hair as I step into the hallway.


    The staff is scrambling. Cleaning. Fixing.


    But all I can think about is Caesar on that stool, Wobbling. One wrong move and he would’ve hit his head. Worse.


    And where was she? I find myself walking toward the east wing before I realize what I’m doing.


    Their room.


    I shouldn’t. But I do.


    The door is cracked open, and I hear her humming softly. She’s wiping Caesar’s face clean with a damp cloth, her fingers gentle. Tog gentle


    “You have to be careful, baby,” she whispers. “You scared me.”


    Caesar sniffles. “Sorry.”


    “I know,” she says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay.”


    I should leave. But I can’t. I remember what I asked her earlier. About regret. ‘If you regretted him so much, why did you keep him?


    She didn’t answer. But I’m starting to understand why. There’s no regret in the way she looks at him now.


    Only love.


    And it makes something twist deep in my chest. Something ufortable. Familiar in a way that makes me want to walk away and never look back.


    But I don’t. Instead, I lean my shoulder against the doorframe and say the thing I probably shouldn’t.


    “You handled that poorly.”


    She startles. Her eyes sh when she sees me. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”


    I shrug. “Maybe I do.”


    She stands, moving between me and Caesar like she’s shielding


    him from something. From me.


    “You said you’d be forgiving,” she says tightly. “That didn’t feel forgiving.”


    I study her. She’s still wearing the stained uniform. There’s a smear of chocte on her cheek she hasn’t noticed.


    “Forgiveness looks different to different people,” I say.


    She crosses her arms. “And to you, it looks like humiliation?”


    I tilt my head. “To me, it looks like not firing you on the spot.”


    Her jaw clenches. But she doesn’t say anything. “I told you to keep him out of sight,” I remind her. “For your sake.”


    Her eyes narrow. “And yet you’re always watching.”


    There’s a beat of silence. She’s right. I am. And I don’t know why. I push off the doorframe, stepping closer before I can think better of it.


    “Clean up,” I tell her quietly. “Come back downstairs when you’re ready.”


    Her throat works around a swallow, and she nods. I take onest nce at Caesar. Hisshes are damp from crying, but he’s already drifting off Safe. For


    now.


    And then I leave. Because if I stay any longer, I might say something I can’t take back. Something true.


    Back in the dining room, I lift my ss to my lips, watching the door. And waiting cause I know she’lle back.


    She


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