Betrayed By The Billionaire

33

Chloe took a moment to center herself, then walked toward the wardrobe. She leaned in close to the heavy oak doors and whispered, her voice a soothing balm. "Liam Jr., it’s Chloe. I'm..."

Auntie? Mother? Stepmother?

The titles felt heavy and premature. She caught herself and pivoted. "Liam Jr., do you remember me? We met last night. I held you, remember?"

Silence.

"Liam Jr., I’m staying here tonight, but I don't know anyone else in this big house. Could you come out and keep me company?"

Still nothing.

Chloe didn't let the rejection sting. Instead, she adopted a tiny, pathetic tremble in her voice. "I just got here and I’m so lost. Your daddy was just being so mean to me. Sniff... Poor me! What am I going to do? Sob..."

Xavier: "..."

He watched her with an expression that bordered on disbelief. Was this woman serious? He began to harbor genuine doubts about why he had brought her into his home. Was her IQ even in the double digits?

But then, the impossible happened.

The heavy wardrobe door creaked, cracking open just wide enough for a small fist to fit through.

Chloe doubled down on the fake tears. "I came all this way just to see you, and you won't even come out. Your daddy is going to kick me out into the dark, and I’m so scared of the dark... Waaaah..."

The doors swung wide.

The "little puppy" was huddled in the corner of the cabinet. He wasn't crying; he was glaring at Xavier with a look of pure, unadulterated venom. And in his small hand, he was still clutching the sharp fruit knife.

Seeing him like that—shrunken, defensive, and filled with such deep-seated resentment—Chloe felt a physical ache in her chest. He looked like a wounded cub, baring his tiny teeth to protect his fragile world.

"Liam Jr., give me the knife."

Chloe reached her hand out slowly, her voice a gentle hum. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. Can you give it to me? Or just drop it? It might hurt you, and I don't want you to be hurt."

The boy checked Xavier, who remained standing like a silent statue, before looking back at Chloe.

Slowly, his small fingers uncurled.

The knife clattered onto the hardwood floor.

Then, the boy reached out his arms toward Chloe.

He wants me to hold him?

Chloe stole a glance at Xavier. Seeing no objection on his stony face, she reached into the wardrobe and scooped the boy up. His small, soft body against hers made her heart melt instantly.

"Take him downstairs for dinner," Xavier said, his voice a cold rasp. He turned on his heel and headed for the stairs without a backward glance.

"It's this late and you haven't eaten?" Chloe whispered to the boy.

He nodded solemnly.

Chloe was speechless. It was ten o'clock at night. No wonder Xavier had been so desperate to drag her back here; she couldn't imagine what the boy's daily routine had been like before she arrived. She wanted to lecture him on his behavior, but seeing his hollow eyes, she decided it could wait.

As she turned to leave, the boy pointed a tiny finger at the Samoyed still trembling in the corner.

"Bring the dog too?"

He nodded again.

"Alright, the dog comes with us."

For some reason, Chloe felt the boy and the dog were kindred spirits—both paralyzed by a deep, unspoken fear of the world around them.

When they reached the dining room, Xavier was already seated at the head of the long table.

The staff moved quickly, laying out a spread of fresh, steaming dishes. The colors were vibrant, the aroma mouth-watering. Despite having polished off two bowls of wontons at five o'clock, the sight of the table made Chloe realize she was suddenly, inexplicably hungry again.

A maid had already set a place for her next to the boy. Chloe didn't stand on ceremony; she sat down and picked up her chopsticks.