The Billionaire's Fierce Dancer

Chapter 4: Reflections of blue

Jerome Ansel sat in his suite, sleeves rolled up, staring at reports he wasn’t really reading. The scandal had cooled down, Mariana’s reputation was recovering, but his mind was far from at peace.

He couldn’t focus. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her, fierce on that press stage, standing her ground like a queen. Every time she spoke, he wanted to listen. Every time she looked away, it stung.

He’d told himself this was business. That his interest in her was purely professional, a way to protect their mutual investment. But his heart refused to follow logic.

A knock broke through his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said, expecting Tiffany.

Instead, Billy Ansel walked in with his usual grin, a suitcase in one hand and a cup of iced coffee in the other.

“Surprise, cousin,” Billy said, dropping onto the couch. “Didn’t think I’d let you run wild in Brazil without a babysitter, did you?”

Jerome sighed. “What are you doing here, Billy?”

“Damage control,” Billy replied. “You made waves back home — investors are whispering about you defending a scandalous dancer on live television. Board’s panicking, so Mom sent me.”

Jerome leaned back, expression dark. “I don’t need to explain myself to the board.”

Billy studied him for a long moment. “No, but maybe you should explain to yourself. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

Jerome’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about—”

“Oh, come on,” Billy interrupted with a laugh. “The last time I saw that look on your face, it was when you were engaged to Madison—and that didn’t end well.”

The name hit like glass shattering. Madison, his ex-fiancée, the woman who had cheated on him with one of his business partners, was the reason he built walls so high no one could climb them.

“Don’t bring her up,” Jerome said flatly.

Billy held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. But if you’re mixing business and pleasure again, tread carefully. Brazil might look beautiful, but scandals spread like wildfire here.”

Jerome didn’t respond.

After a few seconds of silence, Billy stood. “I’m heading into town. Don’t worry, I’ll behave. I just need some air before I suffocate in your brooding billionaire energy.”

Jerome rolled his eyes, but a faint smirk broke through. “Try not to cause international trouble.”

“No promises,” Billy said, and left.

---

The mall was alive with color and music — dancers, children, tourists. Mariana moved through the crowd wearing sunglasses and a simple white dress, her hand gently gripping Mateo’s as he skipped beside her.

“Mommy, can I have ice cream?” Mateo asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Celine laughed, pushing the shopping cart beside them. “You just had popcorn, little monster.”

“But that was salty!”

Mariana smiled faintly. “Alright, one scoop. Just one.”

They stopped at a vendor, and while the boy chose between chocolate and strawberry, Mariana’s gaze drifted. She hadn’t felt this light in days — walking with her son, watching him laugh, even if her heart was still tangled in confusion over Jerome’s sudden reappearance.

She had promised herself to keep her worlds separate. Her career and her son could never mix with the man who once broke her heart.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

“Mariana?”

She froze. The voice was unfamiliar, male,warm but surprised.

Turning, she came face-to-face with Billy Ansel.

“Oh—hello,” she said awkwardly. “You’re Jerome’s cousin, right?”

Billy grinned. “Busted. I knew I recognized you. The dancer everyone’s talking about.”

Then his eyes drifted down,to Mateo.

The boy looked up, licking his ice cream. Those eyes — bright stormy blue, framed by lashes too long for a boy his age.

Billy’s grin faltered. The resemblance was unmistakable.

He blinked, once, twice, as realization struck.

“Nice to meet you,” Mateo said politely, like Celine had taught him.

Billy swallowed hard. “Uh, hey there, little man.”

Mariana immediately sensed the change in Billy’s expression. Her pulse quickened. “Billy—” she began, stepping closer, lowering her voice. “Please don’t say anything. Not to Jerome.”

Billy looked torn. “Mariana, he has a right to know—”

“And I have the right to protect my child!” she hissed. “You don’t know what I went through. What we went through.”

The fire in her eyes silenced him.

He glanced at Mateo again, then back at her. “Does Jerome even suspect?”

She shook her head. “No. And I want it to stay that way. For now.”

Billy exhaled, rubbing his neck. “You’re putting me in a tight spot, you know that?”

“Then don’t make it worse for me,” she said softly. “Please.”

He sighed deeply, finally nodding. “Fine. My lips are sealed. But, Mariana, he’s not the man he used to be.”

“Neither am I,” she replied.

Rain pattered softly outside as Mariana put Mateo to bed. He clutched his stuffed dolphin, yawning.

“Mommy?” he murmured sleepily. “Why do people take pictures of you?”

She smiled gently, brushing his hair back. “Because I dance. And sometimes when you dance, people like to remember it.”

“Do you like dancing?”

“More than anything,” she whispered. “It’s what makes me feel alive.”

He smiled, eyes closing. “Then don’t stop, Mommy.”

Her heart squeezed. She kissed his forehead, turned off the light, and stepped quietly into the living room—only to stop dead.

Jerome was standing by the balcony, staring out at the rain.

She froze, clutching her robe tighter. “What are you doing here?”

He turned, his expression unreadable. “You weren’t answering my calls.”

“I didn’t realize I owed you that.”

He stepped closer. “We need to talk.”

“I think we’ve talked enough.”

His voice softened. “I saw you today. With him.”

Her blood turned cold. “With who?”

He hesitated. “The little boy.”

Her breath hitched. “Mateo?”

“Yes.” His eyes searched hers. “You said he’s your friend’s son.”

“Yes, he is,” she said quickly.

Jerome’s gaze hardened. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want,” she snapped. “You disappeared without a trace, Jerome. You left me that night, remember?”

“I woke up, and you were gone,” he shot back. “Do you think I wouldn’t have searched for you if I knew where to start?”

Her lips parted, stunned.

“I thought you used me,” he continued, voice low and rough. “I thought that night meant nothing to you.”

Mariana’s throat tightened. “It meant too much. That’s why I left.”

“Then why hide him?”

“Because you made yourself unreachable! I tried contacting your company. Mandrin handled it. He told me you’d left the country!”

Jerome’s eyes darkened. “Mandrin.”

“Yes, Mandrin!” Her voice cracked. “He made sure we never saw each other again. And when I realized I was pregnant, it was too late. You were gone.”

He stared at her, speechless.

The silence that followed was heavy — years of lost time pressing between them.

Finally, he whispered, “He’s mine.”

Her eyes burned. “He’s mine, too.”

“I have a right to him.”

“You lost that right when you disappeared.”

“I didn’t choose to disappear!”

“Neither did I choose to raise a child alone!” she shouted back. “But I did. And he’s happy. He’s safe. I won’t let you come in and turn his world upside down because you suddenly feel guilty.”

Her voice trembled, but her spine remained straight, her chin high.

Jerome took a shaky breath, the fight leaving his shoulders. “You think that’s all this is? Guilt?”

Mariana didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, close enough that she could smell the faint spice of his cologne. “I don’t know what this is,” he said quietly. “But I’m not walking away again.”

She turned away before he could see her tears. “Then you’d better be ready for a war.”

He gave a faint, humorless laugh. “I’ve fought worse.”

“Not this kind,” she said, her voice breaking. “Not me.”

Jerome looked at her one last time — strong, beautiful, furious — and realized that for the first time in years, he was terrified. Not of losing his empire, but of losing her again.