Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

Mia's voice was firm, unwavering. "No, it's not him."

Right from the start, Tom had been the first suspect to come to her mind. When she'd first scanned the room with suspicion, she had specifically looked for any sign of Tom. Finding none, she recalled his general build. "Even if Tom had changed his appearance, his voice and demeanor wouldn't. That guy, it's not Tom!" If it had been him, Mia wouldn't have wasted time with questions; she would've gone straight for the kill. Andre believed her. If it had been Tom, he doubted the man would have the self-control to refrain from attacking them.

"Honey, I've got to head to the university soon," Mia shared her concerns. "If they're after me, I'm not worried. But if it's our son, I fear for his safety when I'm not around to protect him."

Their little one was sound asleep in her arms, his peaceful face making her heart ache with worry. What if her precious boy encountered danger?

Andre sat silently for a moment in the car, cranking the heat to its fullest before driving his family straight home.

After seeing his wife safely inside, Andre left without a word.

Hansen, leaning on his cane at the doorway, watched his busy younger son. "Even the President isn't as busy as he is."

Mia cut straight to the chase. "Lost all your jellybeans in the game, have you? Got time to criticize my husband now?"

Hansen's face soured. "Mia, living with Andre has rubbed off on you the wrong way."

"Oh, so you did lose then." If he hadn't, Hansen would be jumping three feet high, waving his phone to prove he didn't lose. His subdued tone now, lacking vigor, was a dead giveaway. Hansen gritted his teeth. "...Can you top me up?"

Mia was adamant. "No way!"

With that, she carried her waking child upstairs.

That evening, the Cedillo household suddenly filled with new faces, enough to even alarm someone as unguarded as Naomi.

She was puzzled. "Mia, there's a dozen new faces around, even the security's been switched up. What's going on? They say it's all on Andre's orders."

immediately thought of the earlier conversation about the snooping

Naomi. It won't affect our

profile, valuing privacy above all. He hated having a trail of "tails" behind

this situation didn't sit right with Hansen, prompting him

guys are here to protect Mia and the kid. If it's too

the kids?" Hansen

photographed,"

a warehouse, a place far beneath his

butts littered the ground, surrounded by stacks

shine of his shoes snuffing out smoldering cigarette stubs as he walked, phone in hand, toward a figure tied to a chair. Cameras lay nearby a seat cleaned

stood at the door, with three more on

the bruised man

had already perused the

leaning back casually, an aura of darkness emanating from him as he rubbed his hands together. The man avoided meeting Andre's gaze, his swollen eyes painful, barely a slit open. But that slit widened

"A photographer can't do much without his eyes, can

closing in on their

decision-maker across from him. "What are

presence

a cigarette from the windowsill, lighting it with a match, and checked his phone-a message from his

home? Your son misses his

use. He listened to the distant

he's not sleepy now." Mia sent a video of their son happily playing in his

bought him, texted back, "Let him play then. You get some