Chapter 89: Art Lessons

Moana

As I walked around the room and helped the children with their art, I suddenly heard the sound of the floorboards creaking in the doorway. Thinking that it was Sophia coming to check on how everything was going, I looked up with a smile.

That smile quickly faded, however, when I realized it wasn’t Sophia, but was in fact Edrick who was standing there. He had an indiscernible expression on his face and stood as still as a statue in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, his eyes locked on mine for several long, palpable moments.

Was I seeing things, or had the cold Alpha billionaire finally realized the fault in breaking his promise to his daughter?

But before I could even process the fact that he apparently seemed to have changed his mind for whatever reason, Ella snapped her head up and gasped loudly.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, jumping up out of her chair and running up to him. “You came!”

ran up to him. “Mr. Morgan!” they shouted excitedly, jumping up and

girl’s cheek. “Hello, Matthew. Nice shirt you’ve got

just stood there in a state of abject shock with wide eyes and an open mouth. It seemed that the Alpha billionaire changed his mind after all and wound up keeping his promise to his daughter; that didn’t mean that I wasn’t still

looked straight at me. “Am I interrupting an art

I stuttered, still

words out, thankfully Ella stepped in. “We’re painting flowers, daddy,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him over to her work station while the other children returned

he peered down at his daughter’s canvas, which contained anything

“Are you gonna paint with

I

Ella begged, clasping her hands

out a sigh. “Alright,” he

over to the supply cabinet and grabbed a

sat down. He looked comically large in the chair that was meant for a child, causing the

up splattering quite a bit of paint on his sleeves. The children pointed and poked fun at him, but he didn’t seem to mind the paint getting on his nice white shirt and only laughed along with

lesson went on for much longer than expected because of this, but I didn’t mind. Soon, I’d almost entirely forgotten about the perfume and our subsequent argument and only found myself smiling and laughing along with Edrick and the children. The Alpha billionaire was a surprisingly bad artist, and almost seemed as though he’d never

get the children’s — and Edrick’s — attention, then instructed them

stood as well and joined them; he almost looked like a big kid on his own, wandering around with his hands clasped behind his

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