Chapter 9

Jonathan’s POV

I stood at the top of the stairs, watching her.

Elena had arrived ten minutes ago, escorted in by my driver, and now she stood frozen in the middle of my living room, staring at the frame I’d hung just an hour earlier.

Daniel’s face smiled back at her from the photo…in the picture he looked young and arrogant, completely unaware of the damage he’d cause years later.

I could see it all on her face. The shock. The anger. The way her jaw tightened and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was trying to keep it together, trying to maintain that calm, professional exterior she wore like armor.

But I could see the cracks.

“That’s my son,” I said, making my presence known.

She didn’t jump, she didn’t even turn around, she just kept staring at the photo like it might catch fire if she looked hard enough.

I walked down the stairs slowly, watching her reaction with every step. “His name is Daniel. He’s twenty-nine. Works in venture capital, though he’s not very good at it. Takes after his mother in that regard…more ambition than skill.”

Elena finally turned to look at me, her expression carefully neutral. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re my Personal Manager now,” I said simply. “That means you’re part of my life. And Daniel, despite our… complicated relationship, is part of my life too.”

“I see.”

“He’s a difficult person,” I continued, moving closer. “Arrogant. Self-centered. Makes terrible decisions and refuses to learn from them. But he’s still my son.”

“That must be hard for you,” Elena said, her voice perfectly even.

I studied her face, looking for any sign of the turmoil I knew had to be churning inside her. But she gave me nothing.

Impressive.

“It is,” I said. “But enough about that. Have you eaten? I was just about to have dinner.”

“I’m not here to have dinner,” she said quickly. “I’m here to help you pack.”

“There’s nothing to pack.”

She blinked. “What?”

“My housekeeper already took care of it. Everything’s ready to go.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Then why did you have me come all the way here?”

“Because I wanted company for dinner,” I said simply. “And because I thought it would be good for us to talk outside the office. Get to know each other better, since we’ll be spending so much time together.”

“That’s not part of my job description.”

“Consider it a bonus,” I said, gesturing toward the dining room. “Come on. I promise I won't bite.”

She looked like she wanted to refuse, but something in my expression must have convinced her that arguing would be pointless.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But just dinner. Then I’m leaving.”

“Fair enough.”

We walked into the dining room where my housekeeper had already set the table…nothing too fancy, just roasted chicken, vegetables, and a bottle of wine I’d been saving for a special occasion.

Elena sat down across from me, her posture perfect, her expression guarded.

I poured us both a glass of wine and raised mine. “To new beginnings.”

She hesitated, then lifted her glass. “To new beginnings.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sound was the clink of silverware against plates.

Until it got too boring and I was not liking it.

“So,” I said casually, “what do you think of my son? From the photo, I mean.”

Elena’s fork paused halfway to her mouth. She set it down carefully, her eyes meeting mine with a sharpness that could cut glass.

“I think that’s an inappropriate question,” she said.

“Is it?” I leaned back in my chair, swirling my wine. “I’m just curious. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. Daniel’s single. You’re single. It seems like a natural match.”

She stared at me like I’d just suggested she set herself on fire.

“Are you seriously trying to set me up with your son?” she asked, her voice dangerously calm.

“Why not? You’d be good for him. Keep him in line.”

Elena picked up her wine glass and took a long drink, and I could see her fighting to maintain her composure.

“I’m not interested in your son,” she said finally. “Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m here to do a job, not to be matchmade.”

“Pity,” I said. “You’d make a hell of a daughter-in-law.”

Before she could respond, my phone rang.

I glanced at the screen and felt my heart skip a beat.

Daniel.

My son, who hadn’t called me in three years, was calling me.

I stared at the phone, unsure whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

But curiosity won out.

I answered. “Daniel?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice sharp and impatient. “I’m at the estate gate. Your security won’t let me in. Tell them to open the damn gate.”

I sat up straighter, shocked. “You’re here? At the house?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it? Are you going to let me in or not?”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Three years of silence, and now he shows up out of nowhere, demanding entry like he still lived here.

“Give me a minute,” I said finally.

“Whatever. Just hurry up.”

I lowered the phone slowly, staring at the blank screen.

Then I glanced at Elena, who was watching me with barely concealed interest.

This was about to get very, very complicated.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​