Chapter 5: At the preschool

May's Pov

I didn't know how I'd managed to sleep so peacefully the previous night, considering the mess my life had become.

Unfortunately, that peaceful sleep came at a price.

I woke up late.

"Oh, shit!"

I scrambled out of bed, rushed through my morning routine, and threw on a black skirt, a white shirt, and comfortable flats.

James hadn't come home last night. He was probably at some nightclub, drinking or gambling away whatever money he had.

Honestly, I couldn't care less. At least I'd had the entire bed to myself.

With no time for breakfast, I grabbed my handbag and hurried outside to hail a taxi.

Thank God for Diana, my best friend. Without her help securing this part-time job, I wasn't sure how I'd manage my expenses.

"Good morning, Ms. Lewis!"

Rebecca looked up from her desk with a smile.

"May, how many times must I tell you to call me Rebecca?"

I laughed as I signed the attendance register.

"Old habits die hard."

"Then develop some new ones."

I grinned before heading to my classroom.

The moment I entered, I found the room empty. As usual, the lead teacher was nowhere to be found, leaving me to arrange the chairs, wipe the tables, and prepare the learning materials.

Since the principal favored her, complaining would have been pointless.

Besides, I loved teaching. The children's laughter and endless curiosity made my days a little brighter.

That was one reason I was pursuing a bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Education.

Secretly, of course.

If James discovered I was attending university without his permission, I'd be in serious trouble. He believed a woman's place was at home, serving her husband rather than pursuing ambitions of her own.

God, what a scumbag.

You know you can't leave him.

I froze.

You owe him, May. He's your savior. He's the reason you're still alive.

My fingers tightened around the papers in my hands.

Ah, yes. The debt.

The reason I'd spent so long convincing myself I had no right to walk away, no matter how much it hurt.

Sometimes, I hated how easily gratitude could become a prison.

Shaking off the thought, I focused on the classroom. Whatever my problems were, the children deserved better than to see me fall apart.

Soon, their cheerful voices filled the room.

"Miss May!"

I turned as several children rushed toward me, their faces bright with excitement.

"Good morning, everyone!"

The morning passed quickly, filled with lessons, drawings, and the usual chaos of managing a room full of energetic four-year-olds.

Their innocent questions and ridiculous stories never failed to make me smile. Sometimes, I wished adulthood were as simple as arguing about crayons and pancakes.

Unfortunately, life had other plans.

By dismissal time, I was helping the children gather their belongings when Leila tugged at my sleeve.

"Miss May, Daddy said he'll take me for ice cream!"

"Oh, really? That sounds lovely."

"I'm going to ask for chocolate!"

I laughed. "Enjoy your ice cream, sweetheart."

Leila was one of my brightest students, always cheerful and eager to learn. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't help smiling whenever she approached me with another story.

Soon, Dominic Gray would arrive to pick her up.

As usual.

He collected his daughter himself every afternoon, even though he could easily have sent someone else.

Not that it was any of my business.

I had enough problems without investigating the daily schedule of my secret lover.

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted my thoughts.

"Daddy!"

Leila hurried toward the doorway, where Dominic appeared a moment later.

Tall, impeccably dressed, and wearing his usual unreadable expression, he bent down to catch her in his arms.

For a brief moment, his expression softened as she excitedly told him about her day.

I watched them from a distance.

There was something strangely captivating about seeing Dominic with his daughter. The man I knew was cold and intimidating, yet he listened patiently to every word that came out of her mouth.

Maybe he wasn't entirely heartless.

Then again, I wasn't stupid enough to mistake a father's affection for proof of good character.

I'd made that mistake before.

I wasn't planning on repeating it.

Eventually, Dominic lifted his gaze and looked directly at me.

Oh, God.

Act normal, May.

He was simply a student's father. A perfectly ordinary father whose bed you happened to share.

I straightened and forced a polite smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gray."

"Good afternoon, Ms. Anderson."

He addressed me formally, as always. At school, I was his daughter's assistant teacher. Behind closed doors, I was the woman he paid to spend time with him.

Two entirely different relationships.

And somehow, I was expected to keep them separate without losing my mind.

Dominic adjusted Leila's jacket before taking her hand.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

She waved at me as they headed toward the door.

"Goodbye, Miss May!"

"Goodbye, sweetheart. Have a lovely evening!"

Dominic gave me a brief nod before leading her away.

Then I noticed something on his wrist.

A gold watch.

I narrowed my eyes.

Wait a minute.

Was that a Rolex?

I leaned forward, trying to get a better look before he disappeared from sight.

Oh, my God.

It was a freaking Rolex!

I stared at the doorway, struggling to make sense of what I'd just seen.

Something wasn't adding up.

Dominic usually dressed casually and drove an ordinary Toyota Camry. Nothing about him suggested he was secretly wealthy.

Yet there he was, wearing a Rolex worth more than I could probably earn in months.

And then there was the money he paid me after our encounters, handing it over as though it were nothing more than pocket change.

Where did he get it?

Who exactly was Dominic Gray?

The more I thought about it, the stranger everything seemed. His appearance, his behaviour, and the way he sometimes looked at me as though I were a puzzle he intended to solve.

Great.

Apparently, my life wasn't complicated enough.

Now I was sleeping with a mysterious man whose wealth didn't match his appearance, who happened to be the father of one of my students.

I should have been worried.

Actually, I was.

But beneath that worry was something else.

Curiosity.

And curiosity, as I'd learned the hard way, could be dangerous.

I glanced toward the doorway one last time.

Who was Dominic Gray?

And why did I have the terrible feeling that I was about to find out?