Chapter 13: Exposed and Abandoned

Rayna's POV

The next morning, I woke up to chaos.

Shouting from downstairs. Connor crying. Doors slamming.

I threw on a robe and ran toward the direction of the noise.

In the foyer, Susana stood surrounded by suitcases, dressed for travel.

Denzel faced her, his expression thunderous. Between them, Connor clutched a stuffed animal, tears streaming down his little face.

"I'm not asking your permission! After all you made it clear, that I mean nothing to you." Susana was saying.

"You can't just dump him here!" Denzel shouted.

"Watch me. My new lover and I are going to Monaco for a month. Maybe longer. Connor will be fine with you."

"I can't take care of a three-year-old! I have a company to run!"

"Then hire a nanny. You have enough money." Susana bent down to Connor. "Mommy will be back soon, sweetheart. Be good to your Dada. "

"Mama, no!" Connor wailed in his little voice. "Don't go!"

"Susana, you can't…"

But she was already out the door and into a waiting car.

Leaving Denzel standing there with a sobbing child and no idea what to do.

Before I could move, a voice behind me said, "Oh my God, this is the best thing I've ever seen."

Naomi.

She walked past me, took one look at Denzel holding Connor at arm's length like he might explode, and burst out laughing.

"You have no idea what to do with him, do you?"

"Shut up," Denzel muttered.

"He's three, not a grenade. You can actually hold him properly."

"He keeps crying when I do."

"That's because you're holding him like a sack of potatoes!" Naomi took Connor from him. "There. See?"

Connor immediately stopped crying and snuggled into her arms.

Denzel looked offended. "How did you…"

"Basic human decency. You should try it." She grinned. "So, big brother. Looks like you're on daddy duty. This is going to be hilarious."

"I have meetings..”

"Cancel them."

"I can't just…"

"Or course you can! You're a billionaire. You can do whatever you want. Right now, what you need to do is learn how to take care of your son. Welcome to parenthood."

Denzel looked horrified.

Naomi could only stay for a few hours, she had classes to attend and errands to run. Which meant Denzel was on his own.

Well, not entirely.

"Where's Bee?" I asked.

"Visiting her family," Denzel said. "Won't be back until next week."

Of course. Perfect timing.

I should have gone back to my wing. Should have let him figure it out himself after everything that had happened between us.

But Connor was just a scared little boy who missed his mom.

"I'll help," I heard myself say.

Denzel looked at me, surprised. "You don't have to…"

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Connor."

Taking care of Connor was... chaotic.

"I'm hungry," he announced at noon.

Denzel looked at me. I looked back at him.

"Don't you have a cook?"

"She's off on weekends."

I sighed and went to the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, I'd made Connor a grilled cheese sandwich, cut into triangles.

"You have to cut it into triangles?" Denzel asked, watching.

"Apparently it tastes better that way."

"That doesn't make sense."

"He's three. Nothing makes sense."

Watching Denzel try to parent was almost funny. He approached it like a business problem, methodical, logical, completely wrong.

"Connor, it's time for your nap," he announced at 2 PM.

"No!" Connor shouted.

"Yes. Children need sleep."

"I don't wanna!"

"This isn't a negotiation."

"Everything is a negotiation with a three-year-old," I said, suppressing a smile.

"That's ridiculous."

"Welcome to children."

It took an hour to get Connor down for his nap. An hour of negotiations, bribes, and finally me reading him three stories while Denzel watched from the doorway, looking lost.

When Connor finally fell asleep, I found Denzel in the sitting room, his head in his hands.

"I'm a terrible father," he said quietly.

"You're learning."

"I should know how to do this. He's my son."

"Have you spent much time with him before?"

"No. I... I kept my distance. It was easier."

"Easier for who?"

He didn't answer.

The afternoon was a disaster.

Connor woke up cranky. He wanted his mother. He wanted his toys, which were apparently at Susana's apartment.

He wanted to watch a specific show that Denzel's complicated entertainment system couldn't find.

"Why is this so hard?" Denzel muttered, clicking through channels.

"Because you can't control a child like you control a boardroom or even me."

"Then how do I do this?"

"You figure it out. One day at a time."

By evening, Denzel looked like he'd been through a war. His expensive shirt had juice stains. His hair was disheveled. Connor had somehow gotten marker on his face.

And Naomi was having the time of her life documenting it all on her phone.

"This is going on the family Christmas card," she said, snapping a photo of Denzel with marker mustache courtesy of Connor.

"Delete that."

"Never. This is comedy gold."

"I hate you."

"You love me." She grinned. "So, how's it feel to be a real dad for once?"

"Exhausting."

"Good. Maybe now you'll understand what actual parenting looks like."

That night, after Connor was finally in bed, I found myself still at the mansion instead of retreating to my wing.

Denzel was in the kitchen, staring at the coffee maker like it had personally offended him.

"Need help?" I asked.

"I can't even figure out this damn machine," he muttered.

"Let me."

I made coffee for both of us, and we sat at the kitchen island in silence.

"Thank you," he finally said. "For helping with Connor. You didn't have to."

"He's just a kid. He didn't ask for any of this."

"Neither did you."

I didn't have a response to that.

"I'm sorry," he said after a long pause. "About the fight. About accusing you of... everything."

"You were right about some of it. I was keeping secrets."

"And I was being a domineering ass." He ran a hand through his hair. "I just... I don't know how to do this. Any of this."

"Do what?"

"Be a father. Be a... whatever we are to each other."

"I don't know what we are either."

We sat in the quiet kitchen, not touching but not running away either.

Baby steps, I thought.