Chapter 1
My bestie, Ramona, sent me a photo late that night.
In the picture, she was wearing a skimpy slip dress, holding a man's tie in her hand.
That tie was the very one I had personally fastened around Nathan's neck yesterday, my so-called "son," the cold and abstinent man everyone thought was untouchable.
Her caption read: [Rachelle, your son is incredible.]
The system's alert screamed wildly in my head. [Warning. Warning. Host, your cub is currently under attack by a Seduction System. Please fulfill your maternal duties immediately.]
I didn't reply. Instead, I changed clothes at an unhurried pace, picked up a thermos carrier, and headed straight for the top floor of Nathan's company.
At midnight, the lights in the CEO's office were still on. I pushed the door open.
The air inside was thick with an intoxicating perfume.
Ramona was draped languidly against the edge of Nathan's desk, her fingers trailing suggestively over the back of his hand.
Nathan, the Richmond family heir who always kept women at arm's length in public, now had his shirt collar slightly undone.
His brow furrowed, and a hint of suppressed irritation flickering in his eyes.
When he saw me, his eyes lit up like he'd just spotted his savior.
Ramona's smug grin faltered for a second, then turned into a challenge.
"Rachelle, why are you here?" She giggled, as if she were staking her claim.
If I hadn't come, Nathan's innocence would've been gone for sure.
I ignored her, walked straight up to Nathan, and set the thermos down hard on the desk.
The loud thud cut through the quiet office. Nathan froze.
I reached out and tapped his forehead with my fingertip, my voice full of motherly exasperation. "Nathan. Bedtime's eleven, remember? Did you forget?
"Work will always be there, but your health won't. If you burn yourself out, who's going to feel sorry for you?"
I didn't raise my voice, but every word hit home.
Ramona's smug look vanished, replaced by surprise.
Nathan's face turned red, the blush creeping from his ears down to his neck.
He pressed his lips together and dropped his gaze, looking just like a schoolboy caught doing something wrong.
"Spit it out, what 'I'?" I cut him off, unscrewed the lid of the thermos.
The rich aroma of chicken soup washed over the cheap perfume in the air.
"Drink it," I ordered, holding the spoon right up to his lips. "Go on, drink up.
"I spent all afternoon making this, and you're not leaving until every drop's gone."
The air felt like time just stopped.
Ramona probably never expected her perfectly planned seduction would get blown to pieces by a bowl of chicken soup.
With me staring him down, Nathan's Adam's apple bobbed, and he finally gave in and opened his mouth.
One sip. Two sips. He drank, looking mortified but totally resigned.
Satisfied, I withdrew my hand and finally turned to Ramona, tilting my head as if she'd only just caught my eye.
I asked, "Miss Dotson, hanging around this late? Is the company shutting down or what?"
Ramona's face alternated between pale and livid, her expression flickering with embarrassment. "I was just caring about Nathan."
"Caring?" I chuckled lightly, pulled out a wet wipe, and meticulously wiped the back of Nathan's hand where she'd touched him, as if scrubbing away something filthy.
I said, "Thanks, but I'll handle Nathan myself. No need for outsiders to meddle."
"Come on. Let's go home." I looked at Nathan.
I picked up Nathan's suit jacket, slung it over my arm without a second thought, then took his wrist and started walking out with him.
He trailed behind me, silent as a giant, obedient dog.
Ramona was left standing there alone, with nothing but the lingering aroma of chicken soup in the air and her face turning an ugly shade of green.