Chapter 6
1093 Words
I took Liam upstairs and he wowed through the lush wall as he walked down the hallway.
It was too early for sightseeing as there was a lot to see. Tonight, he had a script to deliver and I was going to make sure.
"This is your room, Liam," I said, my voice softer than I intended.
As though he was waiting, he bolted across the floor, a whirlwind of small limbs, and landed with a delighted thump on the king-sized bed.
The bed could take ten of his size.
"Will I stay here, Mommy? I don't want to go to Mr. Benoit again,” he said and folded his hands, displaying his displeasure.
Oh! I went to him and knelt, the plush mattress yielding beneath my weight. "No, boy," I said, stroking his hair. "I know I've pushed you to some limits, but you're smart enough to handle this. You're my son, my brilliant Liam. If you stay here openly, these men… they'll take advantage. They'll think they can control you."
"I will ask them for plenty of gifts," he lisped, his eyes wide with a child's cunning. “I know what to do mummy.”
"Yes, but you can't just *stay*. I mean, not yet," I replied gently. "Mr. Dean and Mr. Ethan… they *like* you, don’t they?"
"Yes," he chirped, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. "They likes me."
"I know," I said, the words catching in my throat. "That's precisely why you can't stay. If you stay, one of them will try to have you. But you can't be with just one. Remember the rule: if you stay with Mr. Ethan, Mr. Dean leaves. And if you stay with Mr. Dean, Mr. Ethan leaves. It's a game, Liam. A game we have to play. Because the two must stay.”
He nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Are they… my daddy?" The question hung in the air, suddenly, innocent and heartbreaking.
I sighed, bracing myself. I have a smart kid and that's what I wanted. Now how do I control him to think like a kid?
"No, sweetheart. Two men can't be your daddy. Just… play along and I will tell you your daddy soon. This is a short holiday. After that, we leave. But until then… enjoy your stay, poppet."
"Yes, Mommy," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.
"Now," I said, directing his attention, "go downstairs. Take both of them by the hand, and drag them towards the sitting room. Tell Mr. Dean to order our Christmas meal – all the yummies you ever want to eat. And tell Mr. Ethan to bring Santa Claus down here – all the gifts you ever wanted.”
"How about my car?" he asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Dean said he will get it," I said, a smile playing on my lips. The plan was already unfolding. “He will definitely get it. Also, they will ask to take you home, tell them you want to stay with mommy.”
He bounded off, his small feet barely making a sound on the wooden stairs.
I followed more slowly, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. The plan was risky, a tightrope walk between manipulation and protection.
But it was the only way. They craved Liam more than they craved me. I needed to change that. One of them must at least… want to have me.
In the living room, the two men stood at opposite ends, an unspoken tension hanging between them. Liam, small and confident, marched in, his face a mask of innocent authority.
"Mr. Dean," Liam announced, his voice surprisingly clear, "I wants you to order Christmas dinner! Lots and lots of yummies!"
Dean looked startled. He quickly recovered his composure. He looked at Liam, at me, and then at Ethan. He then smiled back at Liam. “All right, little-big man, it's on the way,” he said and typed into his phone.
Then, Liam turned to Mr. Ethan. "Mr. Ethan," he declared, "I wants you to bring Santa Claus! With presents!"
Ethan's face lit up. He seemed to melt at Liam’s words. He nodded eagerly. “Right away,” he said and typed into his phone too.
I watched them, as a silent observer. The rivalry was palpable. I could almost taste it in the air. Their attention, usually focused on me, was now fiercely directed towards my son. My plan was working.
The things I can't get, Liam will get. With Liam getting it, I'm enjoying the best of three worlds.
The rest of the evening played out like a carefully orchestrated scene. Dean fussed over the Christmas dinner order and placed every conceivable dessert on the menu.
Surprisingly Ethan was forced to eat. Liam told him to.
Ethan, meanwhile, had successfully negotiated with an actual Santa Claus who, quite surprisingly, arrived with a mountain of gifts for Liam.
Dean was forced to watch the display too. Liam told him to.
Liam was the center of attention, basking in the adoration. He accepted each gift with a regal nod, never letting on to the extent of his manipulation. His smile seemed almost unbearably bright.
We took pictures. The two men in the same film. Liam holding their hands like they both donated the semen that made him. Well, I don't know who own him either.
Late into the night, after Santa had departed, each man made their move. Dean approached Liam first, his voice low and pleading. "Liam, darling… let me take you home. It's late."
Liam shook his head, his eyes fixed on mine. "I will stay here with Mommy. Come back tomorrow with my sports car," he said, waving a small hand dismissively.
Ethan repeated the attempt, his tone gentler, almost desperate. Liam’s response was the same.
"I will stay here with Mommy. Come back tomorrow with my gift," he echoed, the phrase already ingrained as part of his new power play.
I went downstairs, hugged them both with a kiss on the cheek and watched them drive away.
I watched as they left, one after the other. Their departures were polite, almost subdued, but I could see the simmering frustration behind their strained smiles.
The night air seemed to feel lighter, less fraught. The tide had turned. The power had shifted. And Liam, my brilliant, manipulative Liam, was in control.
He was safe, at least for now. But the game was far from over. I need to be loved. Not loved because of Liam's paternal issues.
- Writer
