Christiana’s POV,
As I watched my children dart around the big foyer of our new mansion, their excitement was obvious. The grand entrance hall was filled with the sound of their joyous shouts, echoing off the marble floors and high ceilings. The mansion was a far cry from the cozy, albeit cramped, house we had left behind. This place was a testament to everything I’d worked for, and it was designed with both my tastes and the children’s needs in mind.
“Look, Mom! This room is hugel” Emma squealed, her voice reverberating through the house as she and Ethan explored their new bedrooms.
“Wow, it’s bigger than our old house!” Ethan shouted back, his eyes wide with awe as he examined his new playroom
I couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. The mansion had everything they could dream of–play areas, a large backyard, and even a custom–designed treehouse. It was everything I had envisioned for them, a place where they could grow and thrive. I had overseen every detail, from the vibrant, child–friendly décor to the state–of–the–art security systems.
As the children raced past me, I noticed the bodyguards stationed discreetly throughout the house. Their presence was a necessary precaution, but I appreciated their silent efficiency. The maids bustled around, ensuring that everything was in perfect order as we settled in.
“Ms Davis, is there anything else you need?” one of the maids asked, her tone polite and professional.
I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “No, everything looks perfect. Thank you. Just make sure the kids have everything they need, and keep an eye on them. I want to make sure they’re comfortable in their new home.”
The maid nodded and moved away, leaving me to watch my children’s excitement. But beneath the surface of my calm demeanor, my mind was occupied with thoughts of Alex. His unexpected visit yesterday had thrown me for a loop. Dressed in that ridiculous pizza uniform, he had somehow managed to sneak into our lives once more. It was clear he had seen the kids, and they had recognized him immediately. Yet, their silence about the encounter was troubling.
“Mom, come see this!” Emma’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.
I followed her down the hallway, my mind still racing. We reached the playroom, where Ethan was already engrossed in his new toys, Emma stood by the window, her face lit up with joy.
“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” I said, trying to mask the concern I felt. “I wanted to make sure you both had a space that you could enjoy.”
“It’s awesome!” Ethan shouted, his excitement contagious. “Thank you, Mom!”
I hugged them both, trying to push away the worry gnawing at me. Alex’s intrusion into our lives, no matter how unexpected or disguised, had left me unsettled. The fact that he had managed to see the kids without informing me beforehand was something I couldn’t ignore. His sudden appearance was a reminder of the unresolved issues between us, issues that were now affecting my children.
As the day went on, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The mansion was everything I had hoped for, a new beginning for my family. Yet, Alex’s visit had cast a shadow over what should have been a purely joyful occasion. The kids were happy, and that was what mattered most. But for me, the echoes of yesterday lingered, a reminder of the complications and uncertainties that still lay ahead.
The house was beautiful, the kids were overjoyed, and the future seemed bright. But in the back of my mind, Alex’s presence lingered, a reminder of a past that was far from resolved.
The boxes were almost all unpacked, and the kids were racing from room to room, their laughter filling the new mansion with a lively energy. I was in the middle of arranging some family photos when my phone buzzed with an incoming call from ant unknown number. My hand shook slightly as I answered.
“Hello?” I said, trying to mask my irritation.
“Ms Davis? This is James, Alex Alistair’s personal assistant,” came the calm, authoritative voice on the other end.
0
10:19 PM c
Chapter 17
1 sighed, already dreading the conversation. “Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. Alistair has asked me to contact you regarding some important updates, James continued, his tone steady. “He wishes to discuss matters concerning the children and the recent changes to the mansion.”
My irritation flared. “I have no interest in anything Alex has to say. We’re moving on with our lives, and I don’t see why he suddenly needs to interfere.”
James’s voice remained professional. “I understand your reluctance, Ms Davis. However, Mr. Alistair has made significant arrangements that are directly relevant to you and the children. It would be in your best interest to hear him out”
1 rolled my eyes, trying to stay calm. “What exactly does he want?”
“There are updates concerning the security systems and additional support for the children,” James explained. “Mr. Alistair is committed to ensuring their well–being and wants to keep you informed of the arrangements he’s made.”
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of security. “Why all this secrecy? Why didn’t he just inform me directly?”
James’s tone was unyielding. “Mr. Alistair was trying to avoid causing any unnecessary tension. He believed it best to have his assistant relay the information to ensure clarity and to prevent any misunderstandings.”
I wasn’t convinced. “I don’t see why I should meet with him. If he has something to say, he can send it through you.”
James persisted, “Mr. Alistair believes that direct communication is necessary for this matter. He wants to address any concerns you might have in person and ensure that all your questions are answered.”
My frustration mounted. “I’m not sure if I want to meet him. I’ve moved on, and so should he.”
James’s voice was patient, but firm. “I understand your position, but this is about the children’s safety and well–being. Mr. Alistair has gone to considerable lengths to make sure they’re protected and wants to discuss these measures with you personally.”
I hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. As much as I wanted to avoid him, the safety of my children was non–negotiable. “Fine. I’ll agree to a meeting, but it will be at a location of my choosing.”
“Of course,” James replied smoothly. “Where would you like to meet?”
I thought for a moment, then gave him the address of a neutral location–a cafe near the park where I could keep a things and not be easily cornered. “Have him meet me here tomorrow at noon.”
“Understood. I’ll relay the details to Mr. Alistair, James said, his tone implying that he was relie
ved to have reached an agreement. “Thank you for your time, Ms Davis”
an eye on
