That's How the Life-Saving Debt Came About

At the breakfast table.

Sophia smiled softly. "Anna, did you sleep okay last night?"

Anna glanced up, and there it was—a radiant, flawless face, skin smooth as porcelain. Even she, another woman, couldn't look away.

How could anyone be this gorgeous?

Her chest tightened, and she managed a stiff reply. "Thanks for asking, Sophia. I got by just fine."

Truth was, after realizing how far her room was from Ethan's, she'd been too furious to sleep, cursing Sophia a few hundred times in her head.

She knew the woman had done it on purpose.

But she was the newcomer here, under their roof, so she couldn't let it show too much.

"Well, that's a relief." Sophia took a sip of her milk. "."

Anna put on her best innocent face. "Oh, by the way, I heard you and Ethan haven't actually gotten around to the marriage certificate."

Her expression was so wide-eyed and guileless, it was hard to imagine she meant anything by it.

But Sophia was a pro at this game herself. No way she'd miss the girl's little jab.

She scoffed inwardly, but on the surface, she looked hurt, turning pleading eyes toward the man at the head of the table.

Ethan caught her gaze and finally spoke. "Anna, Sophia is my wife."

Sophia curved her lips ever so slightly.

Anna blinked, her big eyes clouding over with a sheen of tears. Then she nodded vigorously. "Got it. Whatever you say."

With that, she turned to Sophia, her voice clear and loud. "Mrs. Blackwood."

"Better?"

Sophia said gently, "Anna, if Mrs. Blackwood feels too formal, you can stick to calling me Sophia. It's all the same to me."

Anna: "..."

What the heck?

Sophia had been the one nitpicking the name at first, and now here she was, playing the gracious one?

Anna opened her mouth to fire back.

But footsteps clattered urgently from the hall outside the dining room.

Followed by the nanny's frantic call. "Young master, slow down! You'll trip and fall..."

Before she could finish, a tiny figure burst in, clutching a sheet of paper to his chest.

"Daddy!" Buddy's eyes lit up, and he barreled forward like a little rocket, launching himself into his father's arms.

Ethan reacted quick as a flash, scooping up the flying bundle.

Buddy was all set to show off his artwork when he spotted the unfamiliar lady across the table. He tilted his head. "Daddy, who's that sister?"

Ethan said, "She's Daddy's friend. You can call her Anna."

Mission accomplished, the little guy held up his paper like a trophy. "Daddy, Mommy, look!"

"Is this your drawing, Buddy?" Ethan took it, his voice soft.

On the page, three stick figures scribbled in crayon—a tall one, a medium one, and a small one—holding hands, with a lawn and a sun in the background.

Buddy bobbed his head. "Yeah! It's our family portrait."

"This is Daddy, this is Mommy, and that's me!" He pointed eagerly at each wobbly shape, beaming.

Something tugged at Ethan's chest. He looked down at the boy in his lap.

The kid was gazing up at him, those big grape-dark eyes brimming with pure joy and hope.

"Daddy, did I do a good job?"

Ethan's features softened. "Buddy, it's perfect."

Sophia watched the father-son moment, her gaze warm, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

Anna stared at the little boy, who looked like he'd been poured from the same mold as his big brother. A rush of emotions hit her all at once.

What a beautiful, adorable kid. Imagine if he'd been hers.

"Daddy, I want some of that." Buddy wriggled in his dad's lap, pointing at the sandwich in front of them.

"Sure thing." Ethan's voice dripped with indulgence as he sliced off a small piece and fed it to the boy.

Sophia smiled. "Honey, don't spoil him. He can feed himself."

"Once in a while won't hurt." Ethan kept at it, clearly enjoying every second.

"..."

Anna's chest ached like a knife twist. Her fingers gripped the knife and fork so tight her knuckles whitened, her stomach churning with sour jealousy.

Oh, that sweet "honey"—how cozy. What a picture-perfect little family of three.

But that endearment, that warm scene—it was all supposed to be hers.

How had a simple DNA test flipped everything into this mess?

Anna's eyes drifted to Ethan despite herself.

He was focused on slicing his steak, his profile chiseled like a statue, his expression all tender focus.

Too bad that tenderness wasn't for her.

Unbidden, her mind flashed back to three years ago, the first time she'd laid eyes on Jack.

That day, she and her dad were out on their little fishing boat, same as always.

"Let's try that stretch of water today." John's weathered finger jabbed southeast. "Neighbor's boat pulled in a nice haul from there yesterday."

Anna nodded, tweaking the rudder with practiced ease as the diesel engine hummed steady.

At nineteen, she'd been fishing these waters with her old man for a full decade. She knew every ripple.

They reached the spot.

She stood at the bow, scanning the waves for signs of a school, when something caught her eye—a speck bobbing in the distance.

"Dad, looks like something out there!" She pointed at the shape.

John squinted into the horizon, his face tightening. "Uh-oh. Could be a person!"

"No way, really?" Anna's heart clenched. She swung the boat around, gunning it closer.

As they closed in, she saw it clear: yeah, definitely a guy.

A young one, decked out in a life vest, floating face-up on the swells.

His face was ghost-pale, eyes shut tight, but his chest rose and fell just enough to say he was still kicking.

"Dad, he's alive! We gotta pull him in!" Anna whipped around to her father, panic in her voice.

John frowned deep, clearly weighing the risks.

"Who knows what kinda trouble he is? Smuggler? Fugitive? We'd be in deep if we fished him out."

Anna studied the man's face.

Pale as death, hair plastered wet to his forehead, but damn if it didn't make him any less handsome.

He was the hottest guy she'd ever seen in her nineteen years—way better than those slick movie stars on DVD.

"Dad! He doesn't look like a bad guy. Come on, let's save him." Anna pressed her palms together, pleading.