A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 372

**Wram 372**

After the evening meal had settled, I took on the responsibility of supervising bath time while Hazel busied herself with the kitchen cleanup. Ethan, in his usual exuberance, splashed around in the tub, sending waves of water that soaked through my favorite sweater.

“Mommy, can we read three stories tonight?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

I countered gently, wrapping him snugly in a towel. “Just one story tonight, sweetheart. It’s a school night after all.”

“Two stories?” he negotiated, his little face scrunching up in that adorable way that made it hard for me to resist.

I chuckled softly, “How about one and a half?”

“What’s half a story?” he queried, his curiosity piqued.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” I replied, ruffling his damp hair as I dressed him in his cozy pajamas. I picked up his current favorite book, the one about a dragon terrified of his own fire, and settled in beside him.

“Mommy?” His voice was already heavy with sleep as I read. “Do you think my daddy would like dragons?”

A pang shot through my heart at the mention of his father. “I think any daddy would be lucky to like whatever you like,” I managed to say, forcing a smile.

“Miss Daisy at school says her daddy takes her to the zoo. Can my daddy take me to the zoo?” His innocent question hung in the air, a reminder of what he was missing.

I brushed his hair back gently, trying to mask the sadness that crept in. “Remember, your daddy lives very far away. But Grandma can take you to the zoo this weekend. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” he yawned, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to stay awake. “Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you too, baby,” I whispered, tucking him in a little tighter.

I continued reading, my voice blending with the soft sounds of his snores, and I lingered for a moment longer, just watching him drift into dreams. His small face was serene, a picture of innocence untouched by the complexities of adult life and the heartaches that came with it.

He deserved so much more than a father who had never made an effort to be present in his life.

Kissing Ethan’s forehead one last time, I inhaled the comforting scent of soap and sunshine before quietly slipping out of his room and shutting the door behind me with utmost care.

The living room was enveloped in a comforting silence, the only sound being the soft clinking of dishes. I found Hazel diligently loading the dishwasher while my mother stood at the kitchen counter, wrapping up leftovers in shiny aluminum foil.

“He’s out,” I announced, sinking into the couch with a sigh of relief.

“That boy could talk your ear off,” my mom remarked with a smile, sealing a container of pasta. “Captain Alex this, Captain Alex that. Where does he come up with these stories?”

“An overactive imagination,” I replied, catching Hazel’s gaze as she glanced over my mother’s shoulder.

“Well, it’s sweet,” my mom said, wiping down the counter. “I’m heading to bed. These book club meetings always wear me out. All that arguing about symbolism.” She leaned down to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, you two.”

“Night, Mom,” I said, watching her retreat.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Harper,” Hazel called after her.

Once we heard the soft click of my mom’s bedroom door, Hazel crossed the room and plopped down beside me on the couch.

“Tea?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Or something stronger?”

“Tea’s fine. I have to work tomorrow,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

Hazel rose and headed back to the kitchen, filling the kettle with water. “You know, when I drove all the way out here, I was hoping for a nice, relaxing catch-up. Maybe some terrible reality TV. Ice cream straight from the container.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said with a teasing smile.

“Oh, you never disappoint,” she replied, pulling two mugs from the cupboard. “You always manage to keep things interesting. Remember college? Every week was some new drama.”

“That was mostly you,” I protested, unable to hold back a laugh. “I was the boring one who actually studied.”

“You were the one who accidentally joined a protest rally, thinking it was a campus tour,” she reminded me, her laughter ringing out.

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