I hesitated, far too long for my own comfort.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her refined composure faltering slightly as she drew her hand back. “I didn’t mean to overstep—”
“No, it’s okay,” I finally managed to speak, forcing a smile, while unhooking the sling from my shoulder.
I passed Mysun into her arms. My stomach tightened into a knot as I did so, the gravity of the moment weighing heavily on my heart.
She held him effortlessly, like a natural, with a grace that suggested familiarity, and a reverence that made it feel almost sacred.
Mysun blinked at her with his wide, innocent eyes, cooing softly.
Merge’s mother smiled wider, like she was connecting dots in a long-forgotten puzzle.
“He’s got such wise eyes,” she pointed out, leaning in closer. “And those lashes? Goodness. He looks… familiar.”
My throat burned with the weight of everything unsaid.
He’s your grandson. You’re holding your grandson.
The words scraped against my teeth as if they were desperate to be freed, but fear wrapped its cold fingers around my ribcage, tightening with each passing second.
Mysun reached for the delicate necklace she wore, his tiny fingers mesmerized by the glimmering charms.
She chuckled softly, planting a gentle kiss on his hand before handing him back to me.
“Such a handsome little boy,” she complimented again.
I pulled my baby closer, holding him tightly as if I was trying to shield him from the world.
“Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper, the words nearly swallowed by the chaos of the market.
She nodded graciously. “Enjoy the rest of your morning.”
Then she walked away calm, regal, and blissfully unaware that she had just cradled a piece of her bloodline in her arms.
I stood in that spot, my heart racing, ricocheting wildly against the confines of my chest.
That was too close.
Looking down at Mysun, who had already fallen back into his usual sleepy curiosity, I whispered, “You almost gave us away, little man,” brushing my thumb over his cheek.
But deep down, I knew that my fear was not just about being exposed; I was scared because for the briefest moment, Iwantedher to know.
Chapter nine
Zonnique
The hotel suite smelled like roses and nerves.
I adjusted my blazer for the third time, glancing at the clock on the wall.
Ten minutes to noon.
The final interview.
That morning had already worked my nerves. I’d gone through three candidates, and every one of them found a different way to disappoint me.
The first was too eager. Desperation rolled off her so strongly I could practically smell it through her perfume. She smiled too hard, agreed too fast, and kept bringing up the payment before I could even finish questions.
