Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

Mars realized where he'd tripped up and quickly set things straight. "Listen up, kiddo. Here's the main thing: if her name is Milka, you call her godmother. Everybody else, you call 'Auntie.' Got it?"

Henry just sighed to himself. Honestly, life seemed way tougher these days. He missed being a little baby-back when he didn't have to do anything but be cute, always getting picked up, cuddled, fed when he was hungry, and soothed if he fussed. Those were the days.

At 6:10 p.m., Milka came out of the office building.

She was surrounded by a few coworkers, including Mr. Grant, who happened to be Mars's least favorite manager. "Milka," Grant called out, "I've noticed you driving to work lately. Did you get a new car?"

He'd seen the car in the lot and tried to do a little digging. He was sure, with the make, model, and the license plate number, he'd be able to find out who it belonged to. But nothing turned up. Not a single lead. That just made Mr. Grant even more convinced: if the car's details were locked down that tight, then the owner had to be someone with serious pull probably military.

Whenever Mr. Grant looked at Milka, his expression was nothing but flattery. Milka had, in fact, been using Mars's car to get to work lately.

Mars's car wasn't some over-the-top sports car, but it was still a luxury sedan, easily worth a small fortune. And the license plate? The kind you couldn't buy even if you had the money-one of those coveted, exclusive numbers.

It got people talking. "Milka, that car of yours must've cost a fortune! Where'd you even get a plate like that? Did you win the lottery or something?"

would just laugh, never

even get in-if the driver didn't have a

entrance, and she couldn't keep asking his aide

could come and go

hadn't expected her coworkers to get so

just smiled and teased, "Mr. Grant, for someone as shrewd as you, your fishing skills aren't

friendly and who was just trying to cozy up for their

poked around about her family and the compound before,

always managed to dodge those conversations. She knew exactly what he was

"Milka, come on. I'd never try to get

to be spelled out. They were coworkers, after all—a

then, Mars showed up, carrying

a bit late today," Mars called as he