Hiding The Devil Billionaire's Daughter

ZURI'S POINT OF VIEW

“Mommy, look! Elsa looks like Annabelle.”

I laughed as my daughter pointed at the life-sized doll—her cheeks slathered in caked-on blush that gave her the same eerie stare as the infamous horror doll. “Want me to buy her for you, baby?” I teased, earning an exaggerated eye roll.

“Of course not! I don’t want nightmares every single night.” She crossed her arms, her little chin jutting out.

I chuckled, catching the sales clerk’s grin—she’d clearly overheard. We headed out of the toy store; Summer had spent more time critiquing the merchandise than eyeing anything to buy. I still wasn’t sure if we’d come to the mall for shopping or for her to roast every doll and truck in sight.

“I’m so happy, Mommy!” She bounced on her feet as we walked, her small hand wrapped tight in mine. I quickened my pace to match her energy.

“And why’s my sweet girl so happy?”

She stopped short, throwing both arms up in the air. I scooped her into my arms, and she buried her face in my neck.

“Because you’re always at work. I missed being with you. I missed you.” Her tiny arms squeezed around my shoulders, and my chest tightened.

Aww, my heart.

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy’s just been swamped—but you know I love you more than anything, right?”

She pulled back with a smile that could melt ice.

“Yes! I love you a million… million… and gazillion times!” I peppered her cheeks with kisses until she squealed with laughter. That sound—pure magic.

I loved this child more than life itself. Every hardship of carrying her, every moment I’d feared losing her—all of it vanished when she smiled. I’d nearly lost her early on, doctors saying stress and exhaustion had weakened our bond while she was still in my womb. So I’d stepped away from work to focus solely on her, and thank God my parents were there to help when she was born. Now, at four years old, she was worth every single struggle.

Summer Frost. My Summer Frost.

We ate at her favorite fast-food spot—she’d never met fries or spaghetti she didn’t adore. It still amazed me how independent she was, feeding herself without a drop on her dress. “Mommy? Can we please watch Aladdin?” She batted her lashes, her little lips forming the perfect pout.

I wanted to squeeze her cheeks until she giggled. First, I wiped tomato sauce from the corner of her mouth, then gave in and pinched her cheek gently. She yelped playfully, pouting until I let go.

Dear God, thank you for her. “Okay, baby—but finish your food first.”

Eager to see the movie, she polished off her plate in minutes. We headed to the theater, where I bought tickets and settled her on a bench near the snack counter while I grabbed refreshments. “Two orders of cheese popcorn and two waters, please,” I told the cashier. Within moments, I had our snacks in hand.

But when I turned back, the bench was empty.

“Summer!” I called, scanning the crowd. No sign of her pink dress, no flash of light brown curls. “Ma’am—have you seen a little girl? Pink dress, light brown hair?” I asked a stranger, who just shook her head.

Panic coiled in my gut. The mall was huge—how would I find her? My mind raced to the worst places: traffickers, strangers, her lost and scared somewhere alone.

Please, not my Summer.

“Mommy!”

I spun toward her voice. She was by the theater’s digital screen, where trailers looped nonstop. A man knelt in front of her, his back to me. I ran, dropping to my knees the second I reached her, pulling her tight against my chest. The man stood as I approached.

“Summer! I told you not to move! You scared me to death!” My voice cracked, tears pricking my eyes.

“I’m sorry! I was watching the Aladdin trailer—I love their song!” She broke into a wobbly rendition of A Whole New World, and I couldn’t help but laugh through my relief.

“Is she your daughter?”

The voice was cold—so familiar it made my blood freeze. I didn’t need to look to know who it belonged to.

“Zuri.”

Slowly, I stood and faced him. The first thing I saw was his eyes—electric blue, sharp as ice, as ruthless as ever.

“Helios.”

His gaze dropped from my face to Summer, and I instinctively pulled her behind me.

“Is she your daughter?” He asked again, his tone leaving no room for evasion. I drew a shaky breath, forcing my hands to stop trembling.

“Yes.” My voice was steady—thank God. “Who is he, Mommy?” Summer peeked out from behind my legs.

Helios’s eyes locked on mine, and every nerve in my body screamed to run. His stare was the same as always—intense, unforgiving.

“He’s… he’s my boss,” I said to Summer, never breaking eye contact with him.

His gaze shifted as she peered around me, and I pulled her closer. My heart hammered as he spoke again, his words hitting me like a blow.

“Is she my daughter?”

“No.” The word was out before I could think—too fast, too sharp. His eyes hardened further, and my lips went numb.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” I lifted my chin, forcing courage I didn’t feel. “You’re not the only man in my life, Helios. Don’t assume.” I scooped Summer into my arms and turned away, my legs shaking with every step.

Why now? I’m not ready. Please, don’t let him have noticed.

“Mommy, he’s your boss? From work?” She looked up at me, and I nodded. “Really? We have the same eyes.”

I froze mid-step. If my four-year-old could see it, there was no way Helios had missed it.

He’s not stupid. You know that.

I glanced back. He was still standing there, his expression unreadable as he watched us go. I turned and walked faster, my mind spinning.

What do I do? Run again? He’ll find a way to know the truth.

And you know what? He's right.

Summer Frost is Helios Gallagher's daughter. And I'm hiding the Billionaire's daughter.