All Chapters of The Wrong Bernardi: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

There was a door cracked open somewhere I’d spent years nailing shut from the inside, and the wind came through carrying the smell of the ocean, lemon soap, and an old sin with a face far too handsome for its own good.I looked at him and laughed sharply. “Wow,” I said. “Truly incredible. Five years, one child, one fiancée, a wedding contract buried under NDAs, and you finally managed to put together a sentence that makes me want to slap you with something organic.”Rhysand didn’t smile, but something in his eyes shifted. “Organic?”“I have lavender outside.”“Old threat.”“I’m sentimental.”“Are you angry because I said it, or because I said it too late?”I stared at him flatly. “I’m angry because you said it in my kitchen while my son is sleeping upstairs and your fiancée is waiting for dinner tonight. See? I can multitask. Modern woman.”“Our son.”The air left my lungs slowly.I put both hands on the counter. “Don’t.”Rhysand didn’t back down. “He’s our son.”“I said don’t.”“I’m

So I made a cake.A lemon olive oil cake, because apparently I had a terrible pattern in life and kept giving lemon-flavored things to problematic men, sharp-tongued best friends, and houses that needed to smell like something other than bad decisions. This one was not for Rhysand. That was important. I even said it out loud while zesting a lemon into the bowl.“This is not for Rhysand.”I mixed eggs, sugar, olive oil, lemon zest, yogurt, almond flour, a little vanilla, and salt. The mixer hummed softly. Morning light poured through the large windows, reflecting off the stainless-steel bowl, my nude-red nails, and the thin ring on my finger that I’d bought for myself after Cruz Atelier landed its first six-figure client. That ring always comforted me. There was no man behind it. No promise. No family contract. Just me, a paid invoice, and good taste.The cake went into the oven at nine-oh-two.The smell started rising twenty minutes later.Lemon. Sugar. Warm olive oil. A little elegan

His cheeks were flushed from excitement. His eyes were blue, bright, offensively beautiful, and his face, God help me, his face was a miniature replica of one particular Bernadi man, only chubbier, stickier, and significantly more likely to be carrying rocks in his pockets.Elma stood behind him carrying Aiden’s backpack, lunch bag, water bottle, and one piece of school artwork that appeared to have been created with paint, glitter, and a personal vendetta against clean surfaces. Her hair was slightly mussed around her face.She looked at me. “He saw Darren’s car.”Aiden proceeded to do something that was clearly not a ninja salute, not a driver salute, and not anything ever recognized by any legitimate martial art. One little hand crossed over his chest, two fingers came up in a peace sign, his knees bent, and then he made a quiet engine noise.“Vrrm-ya.”Darren covered his mouth with one hand. “Perfect.”Elma looked up at the ceiling. “He practiced that in the carpool line.”I close

“I heard you.”“That was intentional.”Kehlani laughed as she washed her hands at the kitchen sink. “I missed this house.”“This house?” I grabbed a small towel. “The place where my son renames drivers, Darren insults planters, and you perform illegal dental exams in the foyer?”“Yes.” Kehlani smiled, softer this time. “This house.”I pretended to be very busy drying Aiden’s hands.It was easier than letting my face do something annoying, like soften.Darren was already sitting at the island, positioned like a talk show guest waiting for his interview to begin. The second Aiden finished washing his hands, Darren pulled him onto his lap. Aiden settled there like it was his personal throne, little legs dangling, his black bangs drying into a mess across his forehead, his face deeply satisfied now that he had a full audience.“Mami said we have to eat first,” Aiden reminded Darren, whose hand was already drifting toward a croqueta.Kehlani pointed at Aiden. “Look at that. Moral authority

Aiden appeared on the bottom step with both hands raised. “I’m done with my bath!”Darren turned around like an awards-show host. “And the award for best-smelling child in the motorsport category goes to…”“Me!” Aiden took off running, remembered my face, and immediately slowed into a deeply suffering power walk. “I’m walking, Mami.”“Wonderful. Civilization.”Kehlani dried her hands. “You smell good.”“I don’t smell like playground anymore?”“A little.”Aiden sighed. “Playground is strong.”“Yes, cariño. Playground has emotional staying power.”He came all the way down, then looked at Darren and Kehlani with bright eyes. “Now cars.”“We’re ready,” Darren said. “I’ve prepared my soul.”“Tía Teeth too?”Kehlani nodded. “I’m ready to see the legendary vehicles.”Aiden spun toward the living room, darted forward two steps, then stopped.On the large sofa by the windows, Elma was already half-reclined, her head resting against a pillow, one hand still holding a dish towel she had probably