06

Chapter 06

Third Person's POV

Sonia had no idea what time it was when she finally woke up. She slowly lifted herself from where she had been lying beside France, careful not to disturb the peacefully sleeping child. The soft morning light filtering through the curtains told her it was still early, but she felt surprisingly refreshed despite the unconventional sleeping arrangement.

She glanced at the bedside table and spotted an adorable alarm clock shaped like a penguin. Four in the morning. A yawn escaped her lips as she carefully placed her feet on the cool marble floor and stood up, stretching muscles that had grown stiff from sleeping in an awkward position.

The previous night had been different—France hadn't experienced any sleepwalking . It seemed their evening routine of walking around the mansion grounds before bedtime was proving effective in helping him sleep more soundly.

Sonia was about to quietly leave the room when she felt small fingers wrap around her own. Turning back, she found France awake, his dark eyes still heavy with sleep but alert enough to notice her movement.

"Mommy," he murmured drowsily, his voice soft and vulnerable in the pre-dawn quiet.

Sonia's heart melted at his adorable sleepy expression. She covered her mouth with her free hand to stifle a smile—he looked absolutely precious with his tousled hair and the way he was blinking slowly like a sleepy kitten.

France clearly didn't want her to leave, so Sonia made a decision that would become part of their morning routine. She scooped him up into her arms, feeling his small body relax against her as she carried him to the kitchen.

"Let's make breakfast together," she whispered, settling him on the counter where he could watch her work while staying safely out of the way of hot surfaces and sharp utensils.

The kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of under-cabinet lighting, creating an intimate atmosphere as Sonia began preparing their morning meal. France watched with fascination as she moved around the space with growing confidence, his presence making even the mundane task of cooking feel special.

"Manager, lower your voice. People are sleeping here."

Sonia froze at the sound of the front door opening and voices carrying from the living room. The tone was hushed but urgent, clearly trying to be respectful of the early hour while still conducting business.

France immediately perked up at the familiar voice, sliding down from the counter with practiced ease. "Daddy!" he called out softly, padding toward the living room in his pajamas.

Sonia let him go, understanding that Fabian had returned home as promised. True to his word from the previous day, he had worked late into the night, and she and France had gone to bed at a reasonable hour. The fact that he had someone with him at this early hour suggested important business that couldn't wait for normal office hours.

Not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a professional meeting, Sonia remained in the kitchen and continued preparing breakfast. The bacon sizzled in the pan, filling the air with its rich aroma, while she mentally planned the rest of the meal.

A few minutes later, she heard a gentle knock on the kitchen doorframe. Looking up, she saw Fabian standing in the entrance with several paper bags in his hands.

"Sir Fabian," she said, immediately feeling self-conscious as she wiped her hands on the apron she had found in one of the kitchen drawers.

"I'm so sorry, Sir Fabian," she continued, her words tumbling out in embarrassment. "I was cooking and I didn't realize you had a visitor coming, and I—"

"What?" Fabian interrupted, clearly confused by her flustered explanation.

Sonia stopped mid-sentence, realizing that he had no idea what she was apologizing for. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recognized her own misunderstanding.

Fabian laughed gently, his expression kind and reassuring. "I think you've misunderstood something," he said warmly.

"Please, continue with your cooking. Don't worry about my manager," he explained, setting the bags on the kitchen island. "I actually told him about you already. He wanted to meet you, which is why he's here. I came to inform you and apologize for not asking your permission first. It's just that he's always like this, and I wanted to give him a heads-up so he wouldn't be shocked to see me with a woman here, especially with France calling someone 'Mommy.'"

Sonia nodded, not quite sure how to respond to this revelation. The idea that Fabian's professional life was being adjusted to accommodate her presence felt both overwhelming and strangely touching.

"Anyway," Fabian continued, his tone becoming more casual, "I have some clothes that were given to me by a sponsor agency. I did some modeling work for them, and they let me choose some pieces. Here—I think these will suit you."

He gestured to the paper bags, and Sonia's eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

"These... are for me?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She carefully took the bags and peered inside, gasping softly at what she saw. Beautiful dresses in various styles and colors, all bearing the labels of well-known designers. The quality of the fabric was immediately apparent even to her untrained eye.

Fabian chuckled at her reaction. "You saw they're dresses, right? Do they look like they would fit me or France?"

Sonia's face turned bright red at his teasing question. Of course they were for her—what had she been thinking to ask such an obvious question?

"I'm going upstairs to shower," Fabian said, straightening up and preparing to leave. "After you finish here, please talk to my manager. He's a good person, and he was actually excited to hear that you're here. If he offends you or says something inappropriate, don't hesitate to walk away and tell me about it."

He winked at her before turning to leave the kitchen, and Sonia found herself watching his retreating figure with an expression she couldn't quite name.

"Oh!" Fabian paused at the doorway and turned back. "Could you make some coffee? You can bring it up later since I need to shower first."

"Of course, sir," Sonia replied automatically.

As he disappeared upstairs, Sonia found herself puzzling over his behavior. Even now, she remained curious about why Fabian was being so exceptionally kind to her. In the past, when they had encountered each other at industry events, he had always been politely indifferent—professional but distant. This warmth and consideration felt entirely different.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss her overthinking. Fabian was simply a good person—there didn't need to be any deeper reason for his kindness. She should just be grateful and focus on doing her job well.

Returning her attention to breakfast preparation, Sonia continued cooking for France, Fabian, and their guest. She took special care with France's pancakes, using a squeeze bottle to create cute designs that would make the child smile—a small heart, a smiley face, and even an attempt at a cartoon character.

"France," she called softly when everything was ready.

The sound of small footsteps immediately approached the kitchen, and France's head appeared around the doorframe. His face lit up when he saw her, and Sonia couldn't help but smile in return.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed, running to her with his arms outstretched.

Sonia laughed and lifted him up, spinning him around once before setting him down. "I made special pancakes for you," she said, pointing to his decorated plate. "But first, let me take some food to your daddy's manager, and then we can eat together."

"I want to eat in the living room too!" France declared. "Let's eat together, Mommy!"

Sonia hesitated. She hadn't asked Fabian about the house rules regarding where meals could be taken, but France was generally well-behaved, and she didn't see the harm in letting him eat with the adults for once.

"Alright," she agreed, "but you have to promise to be good and not make a mess."

France nodded eagerly, and Sonia began arranging a tray with food for everyone. However, her confidence in France's behavior was quickly tested when she noticed him playing with the jam she had given him for his pancakes, using his finger to draw patterns in the sticky substance.

"France," she called gently, and the boy immediately stopped and looked at her with wide, innocent eyes.

Sonia could feel the manager's gaze on them, and she realized they hadn't been able to have a proper conversation yet because of France's presence and behavior.

"Can Mommy ask you for a favor?" she said, keeping her voice calm and patient.

France immediately put down the jam jar and nodded enthusiastically, looking like an eager puppy waiting for instructions.

"Come here, baby. Sit with me and stop playing with your food," Sonia said gently but firmly.

France obediently climbed onto her lap, and Sonia wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug. She took a tissue and carefully cleaned his sticky fingers, understanding that this kind of behavior was completely normal for a child his age. She couldn't bring herself to scold him harshly—he was just being a curious, playful little boy.

Once France had settled down, Sonia began feeding him small bites of pancake, and the child became much calmer and more focused on eating.

The manager cleared his throat, and Sonia looked up, sensing that he was finally ready to speak. She felt a flutter of nervousness—Fabian had mentioned that this manager had once tried to recruit her for a project with Fabian, and she had apparently turned it down. If that was true, she couldn't understand why she would have rejected such a significant opportunity.

"I was surprised when Fabian told me what happened to you after you disappeared for several years," the manager began, his voice gentle but direct. "I was actually more shocked by that news than by learning that you're here now."

Sonia lowered her gaze, feeling uncomfortable with the attention. Her sudden disappearance from the entertainment industry had been abrupt and unexplained to the outside world. She had no idea how the Valencia family had handled the media inquiries and speculation that must have followed.

"Anyway," the manager continued with a slight laugh, "I'm not here to dig into your past, since Fabian specifically told me not to bring up sensitive topics. Although I'll admit I'm a bit curious."

Sonia touched her cheek self-consciously and managed a weak smile. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, she could sense that both Fabian and his manager were genuinely good people who could be trusted.

"I mainly wanted to meet you and confirm what Fabian told me," the manager explained. "Don't worry—nothing about you will leak to the media. If anything does come out, I'll handle it as Fabian's manager, and since you're his employee, protecting your identity is my responsibility too."

Sonia felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had been genuinely worried about potentially damaging Fabian's image and career. It would be impossible to avoid media attention if word got out that she was living in his house and that his son was calling her "Mommy."

"Thank you so much," she whispered gratefully.

The manager smiled warmly and formally introduced himself. "I'm Jomari Tuazon, by the way. You can call me Manager Jomar."

Sonia repeated his name shyly and introduced herself as Sonia Salazar, using her maiden name rather than her married name.

"That sounds so nice," Jomar said with exaggerated wistfulness, holding his cheek and pouting playfully. "It's such a shame I couldn't recruit you back then. I would have loved to have you call me 'Manager' all the time."

"Anyway," he continued, his tone becoming more serious and excited, "you're planning to return to the industry, right? Please tell me you are! I'll take care of everything. You'd have a position at my agency immediately!"

He reached out and grasped her hand in his enthusiasm, but before Sonia could react, France swatted at the manager's hand with his plastic spoon.

"Don't touch my mommy!" France declared fiercely, his small face set in a protective scowl.

"France!" Sonia gasped, shocked by the child's sudden aggression. She quickly pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him protectively.

Jomar laughed good-naturedly, waving off the incident. "It's okay, it's okay. He's like a real nephew to me—always protective of the people he loves."

Sonia didn't answer Jomar's question about returning to the industry because she had a more pressing question of her own.

"About what you mentioned—offering me a contract," she said carefully. "When was that, and who did you speak with?"

The question had been nagging at her since Fabian first mentioned it. If such an opportunity had truly been presented to her, she couldn't imagine any circumstances under which she would have turned it down. Working with Fabian Martinez would have been a career-defining opportunity, the kind that could have elevated her from a successful model to a true entertainment industry star.

Jomar's expression grew thoughtful as he considered her question. "It was about five years ago," he said slowly. "We approached your management team about a potential collaboration—a high-profile campaign that would have featured both you and Fabian. The concept was revolutionary at the time, and we were really excited about the possibilities."

He paused, studying her face carefully. "Your representatives said you weren't interested in expanding into that type of work at the time. They said you were focusing exclusively on high-fashion modeling and weren't taking on commercial partnerships."

Sonia frowned, trying to recall any such conversation or decision. Five years ago, she had been at the height of her modeling career, but she had also been ambitious and eager to explore new opportunities. The idea that she would have categorically refused a chance to work with someone of Fabian's caliber seemed completely out of character.

"I honestly don't remember that," she said slowly. "Five years ago, I was definitely open to new projects, especially ones that could have expanded my career in different directions."

"That's interesting," Jomar mused. "Maybe there was some miscommunication between the agencies, or perhaps your management made the decision without fully consulting you. It happens more often than you'd think in this industry."

The revelation left Sonia with an unsettled feeling. How many other opportunities might have been declined on her behalf without her knowledge? How much of her career trajectory had been shaped by decisions made by others rather than her own choices?

France, who had been listening to the adult conversation with the intense focus that children sometimes display, suddenly spoke up.

"Mommy, are you going to be in movies like Daddy?"

The innocent question brought both adults back to the present moment. Sonia looked down at France's expectant face and felt her heart clench. How could she explain the complexities of her situation to a child who just wanted to understand his world?

"I don't know, sweetheart," she said honestly. "Right now, I'm just happy to be here taking care of you."

France seemed satisfied with this answer and returned his attention to his breakfast, but Sonia could feel Jomar watching her with keen interest.

"The offer still stands," he said quietly. "If you ever decide you want to explore returning to the industry, I'd be honored to represent you. And who knows? Maybe we could finally make that collaboration with Fabian happen."

Before Sonia could respond, they heard footsteps on the stairs, and Fabian appeared in the living room, freshly showered and dressed for the day. His hair was still slightly damp, and he carried himself with the confident energy of someone ready to tackle whatever challenges awaited him.

"How's everyone getting along?" he asked, his gaze moving between Sonia, France, and Jomar with the careful attention of someone assessing a potentially volatile situation.

"Perfectly," Jomar replied with a grin. "Your nanny is even more impressive than you described. And France here has made it very clear that he's quite protective of his 'Mommy.'"

Fabian's eyes softened as he looked at France, who was now contentedly eating his decorated pancakes while leaning against Sonia's side. There was something in his expression—a mixture of gratitude, relief, and something deeper that Sonia couldn't quite identify.

"I'm glad," he said simply. "Sonia, did you have any questions for Jomar?"

Sonia shook her head, though her mind was still processing everything she had learned about the missed opportunity from five years ago. There would be time to think about that later, to perhaps investigate what had really happened and why such an important decision had been made without her input.