Side Chick Era... Over

Loving Mom 18

The man stepped into the room. He was tall and lean, his frame sharp like something carved from marble. His features were almost unnaturally handsome, sculpted with a precision that bordered on surreal.

His eyes glinted with an almost hypnotic light, carrying a kind of dangerous charm. Even the tilt of his brow hinted at mischief, his whole presence exuding a quiet and irreverent arrogance.

“Matty Cooper,” he said, voice low and magnetic. “You’re being naughty again.”

At the sound of his voice, the boy flinched ever so slightly and instinctively leaned deeper into Sharon’s arms.

Sensing the unease, Sharon shifted subtly, placing herself between the boy and the man. Her tone was calm but firm. “Excuse me, who are you to this child?”

Only then did the man seem to really look at her. One elegant brow arched.

“Who am I?” His lips curled into a languid, half–smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m his father, of course.”

Sharon studied him, not bothering to mask her doubt. “Are you sure about that?”

The man’s smile deepened, casual and tinged with a devil–may–care kind of charm. “If you’re not convinced, we could always call the police and have them investigate.”

“Fine by me.” Sharon reached for her phone without hesitation.

But before she could dial, the boy tugged gently at the hem of her shirt. His voice was soft, but there was a tremble in it. “No need to call. He… he is my dad.”

Sharon glanced from the boy to the man. Something about the atmosphere between them felt… off. Tense in a way that didn’t line up with the calmness of the man’s expression or the boy’s words.

since the boy himself confirmed it, she had no

softly, “Since your dad’s here, you should

suddenly burst out, “I don’t want to go back

be upset, maybe ran away

was about to coax him gently when the man’s lazy voice floated

“Then don’t.”

were caught off

a slow nod. “My name is

him carefully, trying to discern what game he

hire you to keep an

startled, then took another look

month? Everything else paid for? That wasn’t even a job. That was basically getting paid

racing. For a typical worker like her, even

clothes and polished manner, this guy was no ordinary man–definitely one of those ultra -rich types who could throw

Chapter 18

even think twice before

said,

not about the

“Seventy–five thousand.”

slightly. “It really isn’t