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CHAPTER SIX
Last Updated:
2025-11-15 21:11:36
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The Billionaire's Secret Daughter CHAPTER NINE
PeterSomething isn’t adding up.I stand by the corner in the exam room while the nurse checks Sophie’s vitals, and every second, my eyes drift back to Naomi. She’s holding herself together well enough, but something in her expression keeps tightening and loosening, like she is constantly trying not to give herself away.And Sophie…Sophie keeps looking at me with a kind of quiet curiosity.She has a tiny bandage on her palm.I shouldn’t be staring.I know that.But the nurse’s comment sits stubbornly in my mind.“Same eyes”I look at Sophie again, this time more slowly. It’s not a dramatic resemblance. Just something faint, the shape of her eyes, the way she observes the world with a kind of cautious stillness.It’s probably nothing.Coincidence.Children share a resemblance to a hundred strangers.But the moment the thought occurs, it doesn’t leave.I look at Naomi.She stands completely still, like she is counting her every breath.I take a step closer.“Naomi, have we met before?
The Billionaire's Secret Daughter CHAPTER EIGHT
NaomiBy the time I leave work, the sky is muted orange, the kind of LA sunset that looks tired, faded, stretched thin across the shoulder of the city. I am walking toward Fairtax, moving through the small clusters of people heading home, thinking mostly of Sophie’s after-school program before the traffic worsens.She runs towards me the moment she sees me, her backpack bouncing, her tiny dog tugging on its leash. She’s breathless, eyes bright in a way I envy.“Mom! Look, he learned a new trick!”The dog twirls once, a clumsy half-circle.I smile, leaning down to adjust the strap of her backpack. “Aww, that’s so cute.”We start walking home, her small voice chattering about her art project, what she ate for lunch, and which kid argued with whom. I nod, listening, letting her voice anchor me.We reach the corner near Crescent Heights.The traffic is heavier here, cars edging forward, headlights flashing as the sun dips lower.Sophie’s dog wriggles suddenly, pulling free from her h
The Billionaire's Secret Daughter CHAPTER SEVEN
NaomiSophie falls asleep early tonight. She curls sideways under her blanket, one arm wrapped around her little dog like it’s a living plush toy. The quiet settles slowly over the apartment, the distant rush of evening cars moving down Fairtax, the muted glow of streetlights filtering through the half-closed blinds.I sit at the dining table with my sketch book open beside me, but the new design draft might as well be written in a foreign language. My eyes trace the same line without committing a single stroke.I try to focus. I tell myself I am. I promised myself that if I ever saw him again, I would be someone new, someone who didn’t tremble when he spoke, someone who had already closed that door.But I didn’t expect to see him in a pediatric exam room on a rainy afternoon. I didn’t expect his eyes to be exactly the same. I didn’t expect my heart to behave like an old wound waking up.I open the drawer and take out the small metal box I still shouldn’t own. It’s dented at the corn
The Billionaire's Secret Daughter CHAPTER SIX
NaomiThe afternoon sunlight is brutal, the type that makes the sidewalk shine with heat and blurs the edges of everything. I hold Sophie’s hand firmly as we step out of the pediatric wing.Sophie’s little steps are fast; her energy is unstoppable. She skips every few paces, humming a song she learned at school. Her backpack bounces against her back.“Careful, baby,” I muttered, pulling her close when she edges too near the curb.The hospital parking lot stretches ahead, rows of cars gleaming under the Californian sun. People come and go. Nurses push wheelchairs. Delivery trucks offloading supplies. A doctor in scrubs jogged past with urgency. But in that moment, I see him.It’s Peter.He is walking towards the curb, head bent as he reviews the file in his hand.The scrub fits him perfectly, revealing the veins on his wrist, and his eyes are focused.He has an expression I remember so vividly from years ago.My breath ceases. My first instinct is to turn around, to disappear into
The Billionaire's Secret Daughter CHAPTER FIVE
NaomiAfter putting Sophie to bed, I stand by the window, staring at the city lights flickering in the distance. My reflection stares back, thin, composed, unrecognizable from the girl I used to be.But inside?Inside, I’m still the same girl.Still fragile.Still full of wounds no one sees.I press my forehead to the glass. The cold shocks my skin but grounds me.Tomorrow, they’ll hold that reunion.Tomorrow, people will continue saying I died.Tomorrow, Peter might hear lies about me. I can't stop.And I’m powerless to change any of it.After Sophie falls asleep, I linger in the hallway longer than necessary, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. Her small hands are curled under her chin, her hair tangled from the wind. A part of me wants to curl beside her and let exhaustion swallow me whole. But I know if I close my eyes, the memories will come back again, relentlessly.So instead, I walk quietly to the living room, the lights dimmed low, the city outside humming like a
The Billionaire's Secret Daughter CHAPTER FOUR
Naomi The next morning, I woke to the vibration of my phone on the nightstand. For a moment, I lay still, staring at the faint sunlight creeping through the curtains, wishing the world could stay still. But Sophie’s soft breathing next to me reminds me that the day has already begun moving.The phone buzzes again.I reach for it, careful not to wake Sophie, and I tap the screen.The alumni group chat has exploded overnight.Class 2014 —- UCLA Design FacultyOver 300 unread messages .I swallow the familiar heaviness in my chest. Alumni Reunions always sit like a huge stone in my heart. Too many eyes, high expectations, wagging tongue, too many memories, the people who once painted and laughed as if my body were a public spectacle.I scroll, feeling the old anxiety flicker.– Did you hear about that girl back then, Chloe?– The one who disappeared ?– Didn’t someone say she died ? Tumor or Something ?– Honestly… She was a mess.The words hit me like heavy punches: ridiculous, crue
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