Chapter 68
Audrey’s POV:
The afternoon light streamed through the large windows of the Thornton estate’s art room, casting a golden glow over Noah’s latest masterpiece.
I watched as his small hand moved confidently across the canvas, adding strokes of vibrant blue to what was shaping up to be an impressive underwater scene.
“That’s beautiful, Noah,” I said, genuinely impressed by his progress. “The way you’ve captured the light filtering through the water is
really advanced.”
Noah didn’t respond verbally, but the slight upturn of his lips told me he was happy.
A soft knock on the door interrupted our peaceful session.
Edward entered carrying a silver tray with cut fruit and cookies.
“A light refreshment for the artists,” he announced, placing the tray on a small table near our workspace.
“Thank you, Edward,” I smiled at him, then turned to Noah. “Should we take a quick break?”
Noah nodded, carefully setting down his paintbrush.
“When is Daddy coming back?” he asked, reaching for a strawberry.
Edward checked his watch. “Mr. Thornton should be arriving shortly. His flight landed about an hour ago.”
Noah’s expression shifted subtly–a barely perceptible tightening of his small features.
‘I hope he comes back later,” he said quietly.
‘Why’s that, Noah?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
“Because when Daddy comes back, you’ll have to go home,” Noah replied, his voice small but matter–of–fact. “And I want you to stay with
me more.”
I felt a tug at my heart. I leaned over and kissed Noah’s cheek gently.
The next second, my phone began to vibrate on the table beside me.
Glancing at the screen, I felt a spike of irritation. Samuel West.
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Chapter 68
The name glared up at me like an accusation. I hesitated, my finger hovering over the screen. Maybe I should answer and get this over
with.
Just as I was about to swipe to accept the call, the screen went dark. He’d hung up.
“A few screws loose,‘ I muttered under my breath, turning the phone face–down.
“Daddy!” Noah suddenly called out, looking past me toward the doorway.
I froze, then slowly turned to find Caspar Thornton standing there, immaculate in a tailored suit. I had no idea how long he’d been
standing there.
I continued arranging the paints, pointedly not acknowledging Caspar’s presence.
Caspar settled into an armchair in the corner of the studio, content to observe our session without interrupting.
The weight of his gaze made the back of my neck prickle with awareness, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of looking his way.
My phone lit up with a text notification. Another message from Samuel West.
I picked it up reluctantly, half–expecting another cold dismissal about our impending divorce. Instead, the message read:
Meeting Monday to dissolve contract canceled. Will be in touch with new arrangements.
I let out a cold, bitter laugh. The audacity of this man was truly unbelievable.
My fingers already flew across the keyboard in response:
Who do you think you are? You can’t just dictate terms and expect me to fall in line. This meeting was scheduled days ago.
I hit send, then immediately typed another message:
Weren’t you the one who was so adamant about meeting on Monday? “The sooner this is resolved, the better your words. Can’t even wait a
day or two, right?
Send.
*And now suddenly there’s “no rush“? Who exactly are you trying to mess with? Make up your mind already. Whatever you’re planning, I’m
showing up on Monday and we’re getting divorced, period. ”
Send.
The flurry of messages felt cathartic.
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Chapter 68
:
คว
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As I set my phone down, I noticed Caspar’s phone buzzing repeatedly. The notifications seemed to match the exact timing of my message
barrage to Samuel.
I looked at Caspar with puzzlement, my head tilted slightly. The timing was oddly coincidental.
Caspar caught my questioning gaze and maintained an impressive poker face.
With deliberate calmness, he pressed a button on his phone and held it to his ear.
“James,” he said sharply, his voice carrying an edge of annoyance.
“I thought I told you not to bombard me with work messages the moment I landed. If you have updates, call me directly. Don’t keep sending texts.”
He strode toward the door, continuing his one–sided scolding.
“This is unprofessional. I expect better from you.”
After a moment of hesitation, I excused myself to Noah, telling him I’d be right back, and followed Caspar into the hallway.
I found him ending his call, his expression tense.
“Mr. Thornton,” I said quietly. “Is everything alright?”
Caspar turned, clearly surprised to see me. “Just work matters,” he replied stiffly.
“I understand work can be stressful,” I continued, crossing my arms, “but I’d appreciate it if you could leave those negative emotions outside when you’re around Noah. Children are extremely perceptive, and your mood affects him more than you might realize.”
I expected resistance or perhaps that cold dismissal he was so good at. Instead, Caspar’s expression softened unexpectedly.
“You’re right,” he agreed, his voice lacking its usual edge. “I’ll be more mindful.”
His docility caught me off guard, making me bold enough to add,
“And while we’re on the subject, if you’re planning more… dates, it would be good not to leave Noah alone for extended periods. ”
Caspar’s eyebrows shot up in genuine confusion. “Dates? What are you talking about?”
I gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t need to pretend.I will not talk to Noah.”
His expression shifted as understanding dawned. “You mean the photos from this morning? With Daisy Cole at The Ritz?”
Caspar sighed. “That wasn’t a date. Daisy is my friend’s younger sister. We were just talking about the merger of some business interests
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Chapter 68
her family has with-
:
“Mr. Thornton, I interrupted, ‘you really don’t need to explain anything to me. Your personal life is none of my business.”
He studied my face for a moment. ‘Are you upset because of this?”
The direct question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to deny it, but stopped.
Was I upset? The twist of irritation I’d felt seeing those photos this morning suddenly seemed obvious–and embarrassing.
“I’m annoyed,” I admitted, choosing my words carefully, “because some people sent me those photos with messages of sympathy and
concern. As if I needed consoling because my employer had lunch with someone.”
I crossed my arms. “It’s just irritating to be the object of pity for something so ridiculous.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
