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 grounds to question

“Since your dad’s here,

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

figured now the boy might just be

was about to coax him gently when the

“Then don’t.”

off guard. They turned to

slow nod. “My name is Xavier Cooper. I’m

carefully, trying to discern what game he was

to make you a proposition, Miss. I want to hire you to

visibly startled, then took another look

he rests? Fifteen grand a month? Everything else paid for? That wasn’t

was already racing. For a typical worker like her, even

clearly, judging from his tailored clothes and polished manner, this guy was no ordinary man–definitely one of those ultra -rich types who

Chapter 18

didn’t even think twice before replying, “I’m sorry,

said, cutting her

Cooper, it’s not about

“Seventy–five thousand.”

slightly. “It

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