CHAPTER SEVEN: The Boy at the Door

The smoke curled around her feet, stinging her eyes and burning her lungs.

She ran barefoot to the red door and flung it open. Flames burst through, licking her wrist.

She had to save them. Her brother's scream echoed through her lungs.

Adele turned and ran to her brother’s room. She grabbed the handle—and slipped. Her legs wouldn’t move fast enough. Her chest was tight. Burning.

I can’t let them die again.

Her brain screamed it.

She heard her father’s voice—warped and distant.

She opened her mouth to scream but choked. The smell of burning flesh filled her throat.

You’re too late again. This is all on you.

That cruel, taunting voice inside her head.

Adele woke up coughing.

The smoke was still there. But it wasn’t from the fire.

It was coming from the kitchen.

She threw the sheets off. Tripped on her dress.

“Shit—”

She wrestled it off, grabbed a loose blue shirt, shoved it over her head, and ran out of the room—heart racing, throat raw.

Julian was pacing in the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear.

“I don't care! If they don't take that shit down, I'm suing!”

Adele's eyes skimmed the room—and landed on the stove, where black smoke curled from a scorched pan.

She bolted toward it and grabbed the handle without thinking. Heat seared into her palm.

She yelped.

The pan clattered to the floor, its charred contents spilling across her feet.

Julian was on her in an instant. He caught her wrist, guiding her hand under the cold stream of the sink.

His fingers wrapped gently around hers. His face was tight with concern—and something else she couldn’t name.

Adele flushed when she realized how close he was. Too close.

She cleared her throat. Loudly.

Julian stepped back immediately.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Put ointment on that. You’ll be fine.”

His gaze shifted to the floor.

“I’ll clean it,” Adele offered.

“No, you won’t. I have people for that.”

“Where were they when you were cooking up a storm?” she teased.

“I don’t want anyone cooking my meals.” His voice hardened—flat and final.

Adele nodded quietly, sensing that she had struck a nerve.

“Coffee or tea?” Julian asked.

“Coffee, please. With extra cream, thank you.”

Julian stepped over the mess and reached for the coffee machine.

It was at that moment Adele realized he was shirtless.

She nibbled her upper lip and willed herself not to look. Her eyes strayed and rested on his taut bottom in grey sweatpants.

They travelled up his delicate waistline to the defined muscles on his back, and rested on his hair. It looked like he had been running his fingers through it.

She remembered the soft feel of his hair and willed herself to look away.

This is forbidden cargo, Adele! Remember why you're here!

Julian turned around, mug in hand, and handed it to her. She took it and sipped, feeling the satisfying scald on her tongue.

He was standing right in front of her, giving her more of the view.

His chest glistened with sweat. His pecs stood out gloriously. His happy trail…

“Enjoying the view, Mrs. Hawthorne?” He raised an eyebrow.

Adele shook her head and took a big sip from her cup. But her mouth wasn't the only thing filled with liquid.

“You're right in front of me. You left me no choice.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He scoffed and opened a cabinet revealing pans of different sizes.

“I'm making pancakes. You're gonna love them.”

“Oh! A billionaire and a chef? I really hit the jackpot.”

He froze. His grip on the pan tightened, and he forced a smile.

“Yeah. Also, maybe stay away from social media for the rest of the day.”

Adele sat up straighter in her chair. Her curiosity was piqued.

“Why?”

“Because some assholes thought it'd be smart to blow things out of proportion.” His voice was low and peppered with rage.

Adele reached for his iPad, which was on one end of the kitchen counter.

It was unlocked.

“Don't,” Julian warned.

She checked anyway.

‘A BREAK IN CHARACTER? BILLIONAIRE GROOM CRASHES OUT ON WEDDING DAY.’

‘CELESTE LAURENT: ENEMY OR VICTIM?’

Pictures of Julian taking Celeste by the arm were everywhere. The comments were increasing, roasting Julian and…

Her eyes caught on to one comment.

“Julian and Adele may be more alike than either of them will like to admit.”

Her breath hitched. She clicked on the account, but it was private.

Someone knows what you did. You're evil.

Evil.

EVIL!

The voice grew more insistent. She closed her eyes and willed it away.

“This isn't true…” she struggled to find her voice.

Julian took the iPad and set down a plate of hot pancakes in front of her.

The milky aroma calmed her nerves.

Her coffee was getting cold. She swallowed the rest and picked up her fork.

Julian was preoccupied again. His eyes darted from end to end as he tapped away at his phone.

He was contacting his team of lawyers.

“You know, if none of that is true, why bother?”

His head snapped up and his cold eyes bore into hers.

“Same reason you're here. I need to keep my slate clean or I could lose everything.”

“And you think marrying me is going to keep your slate clean?”

“You don't understand.”

“Then make me.” Adele dropped her fork a little too loudly. The silence afterward was piercing.

Julian went back to his phone.

For some reason, Adele felt anger build up inside her. She deserved to know. They were married.

She didn't believe he was willing to keep secrets from her for two whole years.

Adele felt the reins of control slipping through her fingers. Her mind raced.

An idea crossed her mind and she bit her lip nervously.

Without thinking, she stood up abruptly. Julian eyed her warily, his food still untouched.

Her feet moved. A magnetic force drew her to him, putting her in his lap.

He gasped and froze.

“What are you doing?”

“You haven't touched your food.”

“I know that. What I want to know is why—”

She pressed her index finger against his lips, silencing him.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She gingerly cut a slice of pancake. Lifting it delicately with her fingers, she leaned in close, their lips almost touching.

She pried open his mouth with her good hand.

His body loosened. Her finger brushed his tongue lightly. He grabbed her wrist and stared into her eyes as he sucked off the maple syrup.

She shuddered and made to stand. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.

Alarm bells went off in her head. They were breaking the first rule—no physical contact. On the first day. That wasn't a good sign.

But she couldn't think clearly. Her mind was foggy as Julian tilted his head and leaned in.

Her eyes snapped shut and her breath caught in her throat as she prepared herself for his burning kiss.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi…

The jarring ring of the doorbell sliced through the tension like a sharp knife. She jumped off his lap, straightening her dress. Julian crossed his legs and chewed his lip.

“I'm sorry,” she muttered.

Her cheeks felt hot with shame.

“Okay.”

Okay? What a reply!

The butler appeared at the kitchen doorway, his face white as sheets.

“There's someone here to see you, sir. Good morning, Mrs. Hawthorne.” All in one breath.

The name still felt foreign. Adele bit on a fingernail and nodded.

“Who is it?” Julian asked impatiently. He rose from the chair and pocketed his phone.

“He says he is your son, sir.”

******

JULIAN'S POV

“You want to know what it's like to fall asleep with your son. I did you a favour.”

I adjusted my collar and took a big gulp of bourbon from the glass in my hand.

My other hand held my phone pressed tightly against my ear.

“Doing me a favour? Wow, that’s—” bitterness rolled off my tongue.

The air conditioning in the BMW did nothing to soothe my nerves.

“I just gave you the best wedding present ever! Why are you so hard to please?”

Celeste's smooth voice bounced around my brain like a wrecking ball.

This isn't kindness. It's a calculated move.

She took my son for four years only to return him after my wedding? Yeah. How kind.

“Because it’s you, Celeste. That’s why.”

I sighed and rubbed my fist against my eyes.

A Range Rover breezed by, honking loudly.

“Off to work again? You just got your son back and you don't even have the time for him.” She tutted and sighed.

I hung up immediately.

That blow hit hard. Leaving Adele and Leo alone was the last thing I wanted to do.

I haven’t seen or held my own son in four years, and the day I get him back, I get called in for an emergency meeting.

My public reputation is hanging by a thread.

The board of directors are getting antsy.

I have to say something to calm them down or I could lose my company entirely.

Everything was coming down at the same time. My chest tightened. I ordered my driver to roll down my side window.

The smell of hustle and bustle hit my nostrils and I inhaled deeply, trying to catch my breath.

We drove past an outdoor café, and the smell of hot pancakes sent me reeling with memories of this morning. Before the chaos.

I vowed to keep my distance from Adele. And I tried. I was only going to make her breakfast and leave her be, but when she screamed in pain from the burn, my body responded instantly. I wanted to make the pain go away, so I fixed her coffee and made her pancakes.

She smelled of sweat and plums and something sweet. That earthy smell that can bring a man to his knees.

Her fingers on my tongue set me ablaze. Her weight on my lap made me want to hold her and protect her from my world.

She doesn't belong here. With me. She deserves someone who doesn't make mistakes. Someone who lives a straightforward life. Someone who will keep her safe.

It’s just two years, Julian. You can do this.

I tried to reassure myself.

But if we broke rule number one on the first day, we might just break them all within a month.

I’m not going to be vulnerable around yet another woman so she can take everything from me again. I can’t let that happen.

Adele is not mine to keep. But God help me, I feel like I'm already hers.

I have to keep her as far from me as possible.

******

ADELE'S POV

I watched him eat. It was like looking into a time machine.

I struggled to come to terms with reality. Julian has a son.

Julian and Celeste made a human. And he was sitting in Julian's chair like he belonged there. Like I didn't.

This is going to be harder than it has to be.

But why didn't he tell me?

I ran my fingers through my hair and bit my fingernail nervously.

Leo Hawthorne sat at the same spot as Julian.

He chewed silently, with the same faraway look as his father. His hair was the same colour –jet black with strands that fell stubbornly into his face. He needed a haircut.

I cleared my throat awkwardly when he was done.

Maple syrup dribbled down his jaw and he wiped it off with the sleeve of his shirt.

Then he stared at me and cocked his head to the side.

I hate to admit this, but I have zero skills when it comes to children. I have spent all my life avoiding them, and I wasn't sure I wanted any of my own.

After the fire that killed my father and brother, we were forced to move away. Everything was just too painful.

For years, I looked for my brother in every child I saw. I refused to believe that he was actually gone. I had hoped that somehow by some miracle, he survived and we were just separated. That we will find each other someday.

It never happened. Anger and bitterness replaced that pain. I couldn't stay around children without Liam's voice in my head taunting and haunting me. If I had let him stay with me that night, maybe he would have survived.

Maybe things would have been different.

They died because of me. I can never forgive myself for that. I can never be free from them.

Now there's a child in the picture. And I am his stepmother.

Life isn't throwing lemons at me anymore. It's hauling rocks.

“Are you my new mother?” Leo's tiny voice broke through my thoughts, catching me off guard.

“No…God no!” I blurted out, laughing out of sheer panic.

It was the wrong thing to do.

His face crumpled into tears.

“Oh I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… oh come on!”

He sniffed sharply, his little shoulders rocking from his sobs.

You're useless, Adele. Useless!

The voice taunted me.

My throat went dry.

I crouched down in front of him. His face was red and wet.

“Nobody wants me” his voice shook with something I recognised a little too well: Pain and loneliness.

I placed a shaky hand on my chest.

“Hey...look at me buddy”

He wiped his tears with his sleeve and peeked at me.

“I'm not your mother. That's not my place. But I can be your friend.”

He sniffed.

I wanted to reach out and grab him, hold him close and tell him everything will be alright, but I can't say what I don't believe in.

“Do you want to be my friend?”

He nodded.

“Then it's done.”

His smile made my heart ache.

I was supposed to go shopping today to meet Julian's arm candy expectations, but I couldn't leave Leo behind. Being in public with him wasn't a good idea either.

“So…what do you want to do now?”

He grinned, his happy face a sharp contrast to the troubled child I saw earlier.

“I want to play hide and seek!”

Good one Ads! So you can set him on fire too!

I locked the voice behind that little red door again, but I knew it wouldn't last long.

I forced a smile and closed my eyes. I heard him giggle and scurry away.

“One mississippi! Two mississippi!”