His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

I hesitated for a moment, gathering my courage. "How's your work going? Do you

ever get tired of it?"

Carlos set his glass down and looked at me. "It's progressing well," he answered, his voice measured. "There are challenges, but it's fulfilling."

I nodded, feeling relieved by his openness. My curiosity grew. "Do you ever miss the simpler days? Or the time before you took on all these responsibilities?"

I leaned in a little more, feeling the pull to know more. "Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you hadn't taken on all this? If you didn't have to carry so much responsibility?"

Carlos paused for a moment, as if considering my question carefully. For a brief second, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "Sometimes," he admitted, his voice quieter. "But we can't always choose our paths, Doris. Sometimes, we're put where we need to be." There was something deeper in his words, and the way he looked at me in that moment made my heart skip a beat. Carlos wasn't just the calm, collected figure / had always thought him to be. He was layered, thoughtful, carrying the weight of his own responsibilities quietly. I realized then how much more I wanted to understand him, to see past the walls he had built around himself.

As I sipped more wine, I couldn't help but think how handsome Carlos looked tonight. His calm demeanor, his quiet strength-it all made me feel something I hadn't before. I leaned in closer, my voice a little softer, "You've always been so calm and collected. I thought you'd resent me for being so forward."

Carlos remained composed, but his gaze softened as he looked at me. "I don't mind."

The wine made me braver, and I found myself leaning closer to him, feeling the tension of the night dissolve. But as I moved closer, Carlos gently placed a hand on my shoulder, lightly pushing me back. He watched me carefully, his glasses catching the light from the fire. His restraint felt almost protective, like he was trying to maintain a boundary without making me feel uncomfortable.

Just then, the maid's voice interrupted from downstairs. "Mr. Carlos, Miss Odette is

here."

I froze, the name hitting me like a splash of cold water. "Miss Odette?" I asked, my voice dazed from the wine.

Carlos remained calm, his voice steady as he said, "My fiancée."

The word left me speechless. Fiancée? How could I have missed that? Here I was, getting closer to him, feeling like something was happening between us-and he was engaged? My face flushed with embarrassment, and I quickly pulled away.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, trying to stand up too quickly. The room tilted slightly as the wine caught up with me, and Carlos reached out to steady me with a firm but gentle hand.

"Doris, relax," he said quietly. "You've had a long day. Go to bed."

I nodded, too mortified to argue, and hurried to my room. As soon as I was alone, I collapsed onto the bed, my mind spinning. Fiancée. How had I let myself get so close to him? I had almost kissed him-and he had a fiancée!

The next morning, I woke up with the events of the previous night weighing heavily on my mind. I turned over to find Cyrus playing quietly beside me, his toys spread out on the bed. His innocence was a comfort, but I couldn't shake the embarrassment. I had to leave. Staying here felt wrong now, especially after what had happened. I needed to take Cyrus and go.

9

I started packing a small bag, trying to move quickly before I changed my mind. But just as I was zipping it up, there was a soft knock at the door. One of Carlos's Chapter 58

staff entered, her expression polite but firm.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

"Ms. Doris," she said, "Mr. Carlos has asked that you stay. He wanted you to know that Miss Odette's arrival last night was an accident. She won't be coming back anytime soon."

I hesitated, my hands still clutching the bag. "But-"

"Mr. Carlos insists," she continued. "He believes it's safer for you and Cyrus to stay, especially with Cyrus still recovering."

I stood there, torn between wanting to leave and the realization that staying was best for Cyrus. He was getting better here, and taking him away now felt wrong. Slowly, I set the bag down. "Alright. We'll stay."

Over the next few days, life at the mansion became more comfortable. Cyrus was fully recovering, his energy returning along with his ears and tail. He was happier than I had seen him in a long time, and we spent our days exploring the mansion's grounds. The indoor pool, the outdoor pool, the endless lawns-everything was like a dream for Cyrus, and I couldn't help but smile watching him enjoy it.

One evening, Carlos arranged for an outdoor barbecue, something casual but thoughtful. It was a warm night, and the atmosphere was relaxed. Carlos was dressed more casually than usual, and his tail was visible, something that made Cyrus laugh and tug at playfully. As we sat by the fire, Carlos handed me a small stack of papers. "The police have made an arrest," he said calmly. "Sienna is being held accountable for what she did

to Cyrus."

I looked at the papers, my heart swelling with emotion. Sienna had tried to harm my son, and now she would face the consequences. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at Carlos, overwhelmed with gratitude.

"Carlos... I don't know how to thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. pier 58

He glanced at me, his expression neutral as always. "It was all for research," he said blandly.