All Chapters of THE BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET SON: BETRAYAL AND BLOODLINE: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

"Mommy, are those shoes too small?"Ethan's voice pierced my frantic morning rush like a seam through cloth. I looked down at the pointed black pumps I'd swiped from Kattie. The right one obviously was a size too small, biting into my skin like discipline."They're just fine," I lied, wincing as I adjusted my stance. "Just grown-up shoes. They like to pinch.".Ethan scrunched up his nose. "That's a silly thing for shoes to do."I smiled, trying to wring the tension from my shoulders. "Most big-kid things are a little silly, baby."He sat cross-legged on the bed, still in his school uniform, scribbling on a mangled brown paper. The sun wasn't even up yet, but he was already overflowing with questions and imagination. I envied him."Want to come with me to my interview?" he asked, expectant eyes on me from beneath his golden-brown curls."Not today," I said softly, getting down to his level. "But if it's okay, maybe the next time I'll be in real heels and hauling a laptop."He snorted.

"Ms. Carter, why is the client's name in Comic Sans?" I froze with my key stopped halfway. The office went quiet all around me, but the ice in Benjamin's voice cut through every vertebra of mine simultaneously. I raised my face from my desk, my cheeks burning right away. "Excuse me?" I'd tried to keep my voice even. Benjamin Hart, too-blueshirted smug tie and too-fine part, towered over the cubicle wall before me like a self-satisfied gargoyle, grasping a printed-out email in one neatly manicured hand. "This is a business proposal," he told me, waving the sheet like a teacher catching a student with a note. "Not a daycare bulletin. You typed it out in Comic Sans. Do you have any idea how that looks?" " I-I just accidentally clicked on the wrong button. I wasn't trying to print it like that—" "I guessed so," he said, smiling like I owed him one. "It's just… details are everything. Especially when you're new." He strode away before I could get out another word, his designer

Ms. Carter, can I have a minute? I looked up from my phone, where I’d been responding to an email from Ms. Morris while balancing a coffee cup between my thighs and trying not to spill ketchup on my skirt. Ms. Beck stood just outside the classroom door, her curly bob bouncing slightly as she moved. She looked the way most teachers only dream of looking—poised, pleasant, and always slightly perfumed in a way that reminded me of lavender. "Of course," I said, standing up from the bench outside the school. There was no worry on her face, just a soft curiosity that had my chest tightening all the same. Ethan hadn't mentioned anything out of the ordinary at breakfast, but still—my brain jumped to worst-case scenarios. Had he gotten into a fight? Was he falling behind? Ms. Beck opened the door for me, nodding inside. "I've been trying to call you," she said as I stepped into the silence of the classroom. The desks were still cluttered with paper and glue sticks, the scent of crayon

"Going to answer your phone anytime, or do I have to send a message via pigeon?The line crackled out Kattie's voice in forced brightness, threaded with static and the unmistakable edge of something she didn't want me to hear.I pressed the phone tighter to my ear and glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost 10:30 p.m. Ethan had been in bed for over an hour, and I’d just sat down to go over some reports Ms. Morris had forwarded me for extra training."You're the one who was gone for three weeks," I said, attempting to keep my voice breezy. "I thought you were off to be in a cult or finally escaped with that reggae dancer guy at the grocery store."Kattie laughed, but it was strained. "Please. He couldn't even spell his own name.""And Rico can?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.There was a silence."Wow," she said flatly. "Didn't even call to ask how I was before showing up for my man.I rubbed a hand over my forehead. "That's not what I meant. I just… I had

"Yo, you Sophie?"The knock had been forceful and sharp, like a fist attempting to smash the door. It was not long past seven on a Thursday morning. I'd just kissed Ethan farewell at the bus stop and was halfway through my cold tea when the voice cut through the quiet.I peeped through the peephole, thudding heart against my ribs.He was standing there. Rico.I hadn't needed to ask who he was. Kattie had shown me a blurry selfie of them both once, him displaying wads of cash and her half-grinning like she was attempting to convince herself it was okay.He was just as I'd pictured—tall, broad shoulders swathed in a knockoff designer jacket, gold chain shining in sunlight. But it wasn't the attire that made me stop. It was the eyes. Cold. Calculating.I opened the door just enough to block off the inside of the apartment."I'm Sophie," I said cautiously. "What do you want?"He smiled, his gaze surveying me with the arrogance of someone who'd always received what they desired."So you're