CHAPTER TWO

Winter’s POV

The man looked unfazed by my action; his dark eyes roamed over me to take in my appearance before he spoke.

“Who are you?” His deep, husky voice boomed across the room.

“I should be the one asking that question,” I replied, the spoon still held out at him.

“Who would have thought I would be murdered with a spoon in the early hours of the morning?” he scoffed as he put down the pan of eggs from the fire.

It’s my turn to take in the man’s appearance. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, damp like he’d just stepped out of the shower.

The man looked way older than my 22-year-old self, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was his broad shoulder and chiselled chest, which hinted at the fact that he spends a considerable amount of time in the gym.

His jeans that sat low on his hips gave a hint of what lies beneath. My cheeks got flustered before I snapped back to the situation.

It seemed like he knew I was checking him out because when my gaze reached back to his eyes, I caught his gaze on me.

“Are you done?” he asked.

I raised my eyebrow. “ Done with what?”

“Gawking at me?”

I could feel my cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I don’t know what kind of mix-up that could have been, but you are in the wrong place,” I said firmly.

His gaze still fixated on me, and he leaned against the counter. “Put that down.” And without argument, I dropped the spoon, only to realise I had obeyed him.

“You need to leave,” he said.

“I should be the one asking you to leave because I paid for this place. I wonder how you got in here?” I said, crossing my arms.

“I should be the one asking how you got in,” he replied, lifting the bread to his lips; his gaze fixated on me, and he took a bite.

His brows lifted slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I own this cabin, so I can’t leave. It seems like you are the one who made a mistake,” he added.

I narrowed my eyes at him before replying, “That can’t be. I paid for this place with my boyfriend.” I affirmed.

“We were supposed to come together before he cheated on me,” I added softly.

“Your boyfriend is by any means named Nolan?”

“Yeah.” I raised an eyebrow, surprised that he knew.

“Well, he is my son,” he blurted.

My eyes widened in shock. Nolan barely spoke about his dad, except for the fact that his parents married early and divorced early. I never expected his dad to look like a Greek god.

“You are his dad?” My voice came out less convinced than I intended.

“He hardly talks about you,” I said to myself, though it was loud enough for him to hear.

“So what happened?” He said, ignoring my side comment, before moving to a stool to sit while he faced me.

“We broke up, and I came because I didn’t want the money I paid for the cabin to go to waste.”

He leaned forward slightly. “What money?”

“We both contributed to pay for this place. We were supposed to spend a holiday vacation here.”

“Sorry to say, but it seems like Nolan duped you out of the money; there is no need to pay for the cabin. I own it,” he said.

The realization hit like a bucket of ice water. Anger surged through me. “That bastard. Cheating on me wasn’t enough for him; he had to dupe me too,” I yelled, as I ran my hair through my hair and proceeded to curse him out.

I paused to see an amused smirk displayed on his lips as he watched me. “ I am sorry; I know he is your son, but…”

“He is a jerk, feel free to curse him out,” he said.

“I can’t believe he single-handedly ruined my holiday plans.” I exhaled in anger.

“I will leave first thing in the morning,” I announced, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“You don’t have to. There are enough rooms here for you to stay.” His voice softened.

My eyes moistened with tears, and I turned away to sniffle to avoid him seeing me trying to cry.

“I had received a notification about a reminder of me coming to the cabin for the holiday, which I never planned, and I figured Nolan probably reserved it.

I didn’t know he was coming with a girlfriend. I thought he would be here, so I came thinking I would meet him here and we would try to reconnect as father and son,” he explained.

“I still can’t stay here. It would be ridiculous for me to do so. But thank you for offering…,” I paused, unsure of what to say. “Daddy,” I added, then chuckled at what I had just said.

“What?” He raised his eyebrow. “You can call me Gavril. Gavrill Hawthorne.”

“Hawthorne? I thought Nolan's last name was Smith?”

“He took his mom’s last name.”

I nodded my head in realisation. I didn’t even know that.

“My name is Winter. Winter Cooper.”

He nodded.

“You want some bread” he offered.

I took the bread and bolted to my room to video-call my best friend, Sicily, to inform her about what had happened. My suitcase lay on my bed as I had begun to repack to go back home.

“I will be coming home tomorrow. The next flight is tomorrow morning.” I said sadly, my head resting on the headboard.

“I had so much for this vacation. I thought he was going to propose,” I added, my voice trailing off.

“It was my first vacation after working non-stop for three years.” I sighed.

“Well, you said his dad offered for you to stay. Why not stay?” Sicily suggested.

“Wouldn’t that be rude? The cabin belongs to him, and he wasn’t expecting me.” I shifted the laptop forward to lie down.

“Also, he was being nice by offering.” I cupped my head with my palm.

Just then, my chief editor’s call came in, and I ended the call with Sicily to pick up her call. “Lori, have you seen the news sent to our website page?”

I held my phone to my head and used one hand to navigate my laptop cursor to the website to see the headline which stared back at me. “Anyone who gets an exclusive interview with Gravil Hawthorne, the billionaire, will receive a huge promotion and other benefits.”

“The name rings a bell,” I said.

“The hottest and only single billionaire in the country who avoids the media,” my editor replied.

“ He avoids the media and doesn’t want to be interviewed, but the other media, especially Hoopla, are going crazy about having his story or his interview.”

“Well, you know I am on vacation,” I tried to tell her, clearly not interested in this discussion.

“Exactly why I called you. He was spotted in Bali. So you have an upper hand.” She tried to convince me.

I was silent on the other end of the call, and she persisted.

“If you can get him, you will snag a promotion, and you will be free to get a vacation anytime. You have always wanted a promotion. Am I wrong?”

“I will give you feedback,” I informed her.

I opened a search engine and typed his name. His face filled my screen, the same face that had smirked at me just hours ago. My heart raced.

Gavril Hawthorne. My ex-boyfriend’s father. Renowned billionaire. And now, my biggest opportunity.

But before I could process it, a deafening roar of wind echoed from outside, shaking the cabin. I moved to the window and saw a flurry of snow.

From the living room, the TV announced a breaking news update: a massive snowstorm had hit, and no travel was advised.

I was snowed in. With him. My ex-boyfriend’s dad.