ery gleamed under the crystal chandelier. The private chef had prepared a

e sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Jessenia sat to his right, with

e of mashed carrot with

bbled happily.

He looked at his son. "Your pronunciation is getting bet

her sparkling water, playing the

He looked at Harlan wi

dly, pointing a sticky finger at the dining r

d his mouth with a linen napkin. "Paris

yes gleaming with sudden, sharp interest. "Oh? Hav

scraped violently against the bone china plate. The s

d beating. The air in h

a romantic trip to Paris the Thanksgiving before she got pregnant. But the truth was, Harlan had been in Dubai on a

lted her head, her voice d

the island that you absolutely hate Paris? You sai

turned his head and looked at Jessenia. His eyes w

at rolled down her spine. The timeline was broken. If Harlan

ed slightly breathless, but

the boy's hair. "You're getting your stories mixed up. That w

an. She kept her e

in his brain was working. He was a billionaire who buil

ogation. She prepared to watch her ent

he sudden tension in the room. Harlan's jaw tightened. The instinct to protect

his face tightening in genuine discomfort. "I don't know. My head hurts." He shi

s expression. He wasn't confirming her story, but he was actively choosing to sup

s silence. She let out a soft, emotional s

ered. She let a single tear pool in her eye. "

disbelief. She had tried to blow up the table, and inste

hands. "Yay! Dad

d. The crisis

room. She leaned her back against the heavy wooden door and sli

d. Green tea bitches probed. She needed something solid. She needed