Chapter 1 Four Years Too Late

Stellan followed close behind me, his voice sharp with accusation. "I already checked. No other man came to this place in the past four years, so how could you actually have a kid? I know you're angry. I'll take you home now. Even if your family's poor and only survives by raising chickens, I've already convinced my parents. They won't look down on you anymore."

I turned and frowned at him. "I already told you. My family doesn't just raise chickens. We've got several mountains full of them."

Stellan scoffed. "Chickens are still chickens. Don't ever bring that up in front of my parents. It's small-time and embarrassing."

I gave up arguing with him.

There was no point trying to reason with a city snob like him. He had no idea what free-range, all-natural chicken raised across entire mountains was actually worth.

We'd made our fortune off it years ago.

I picked up my pace. If I were any later, I'd miss picking my son up from school.

Stellan kept following. "I can take you to my family home right now. The villa's huge. Amelia hasn't moved out yet, but there's more than enough space for you. Just be polite to her. She's sensitive, so give in to her a little. Don't upset her."

"Excuse me?" I stared at him in disbelief. "You've come to bother me before divorcing, and you expect me to live with you and your wife?! What do you take me for, a mistress? Are you out of your mind?"

I yanked the car door open and got in, eager to put as much distance between us as possible. Alas, he opened the passenger door smoothly and climbed in after me.

"I told you before—lock the doors as soon as you get in. It's safer. How are you still this careless?" His tone was so familiar, as if the past four years had never happened.

Watching Stellan refuse to leave my side, anger surged straight to my head. "Get out. Now."

Lo and behold, he buckled his seatbelt, looking smug, like he was about to expose a lie. "Aren't you going to pick up your kid? Hurry up, then. You'll be late."

I glanced at the time. He was right—I was cutting it close. If everyone else had already left and only my son was still there, he'd be heartbroken. With that, I stepped on the gas and drove out of the garage, frowning. "When you see my son later, don't say anything stupid."

Stellan agreed casually. "Fine, I won't say anything. Ivy, you're really putting on a good act. I'd love to see where you plan on pulling a son out of thin air."

As I drove, I forced myself to calm down. When we stopped at a red light, I watched the crazy traffic ahead and asked, "Stellan, why do you think that after four years, I'd still be waiting for you?"

My low voice made him freeze for a moment, a flicker of unease flashing through his eyes—only to be quickly replaced by his usual certainty.