Chapter 184
He leaned in — but his eyes held none of the warmth from a moment ago. They were dark and intent, carrying the quiet pressure of restraint barely maintained. He didn’t kiss her. He only let his gaze drop to her lips, then lifted it to meet hers with a look that was pure possession.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said, his voice pitched low, meant only for her. “Vance is on standby.”
He held her gaze for one long, unreadable beat. Then he walked out.
The apartment felt immediately emptier. The air seemed thinner without him in it.
Jocelyn turned back to the pancakes. He’s just re-establishing the boundary after last night, she told herself. Covering for a lapse. That’s all it is. Still, her skin prickled where his gaze had settled.
Behind her, Aaden retrieved the napkin from his pocket. It was a careful drawing of the Wolfe Hotel, surrounded by wobbly crayon numbers. He studied it with quiet satisfaction, then folded it neatly alongside a crumpled sticky note he had lifted from his father’s desk.
𝗨𝘱𝖽𝗮𝘵е𝗌 𝗲𝘷еrу 𝗐eеk 𝗼𝘯 𝗴а𝘭𝗻𝘰𝘃𝖾𝗅s.сom
“Jocelyn?” he said, his voice the very picture of innocence.
“Yeah, sweetie?”
“Can we go to your work today? I want to see the tall building.”
Jocelyn hesitated. She had meetings. But she could not leave him all day in a construction zone with only Mrs. Higgins for company.
“Sure,” she said. “I have a budget meeting, but you can color in my office.”
Aaden’s mouth curved into a small, private smirk.
Phase one complete. The real mission was about to begin.
The executive floor of the Wolfe Hotel hummed with quiet efficiency — phones ringing softly, heels clicking across plush carpet.
In the main conference room, Jocelyn was leading a budget review. “We need to reallocate the marketing spend for Q3,” she said, gesturing toward the projection screen.
In the corner, Aaden sat at a small table with a coloring book open in front of him. His eyes, however, were moving steadily around the room.
“Jocelyn?” he piped up.
“Yes, Aaden?” She paused mid-sentence.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” he announced, with great volume.
Jocelyn checked her watch. “Okay. Second door on the left, just down the hall. Can you go by yourself?”
“I’m five and a half,” Aaden said, with considerable dignity. “I’m a big boy.”
“Go straight there and straight back,” Jocelyn said. “Don’t wander.”
Aaden nodded. He slipped off his chair and walked out.
The moment the heavy door closed behind him, his demeanor shifted entirely. He was not a child who needed a bathroom break. He was an agent on a mission.
He looked left. He looked right. The receptionist was on the phone, eyes on her screen.
Aaden pulled out his napkin map. CFO Office — Room 402. He had memorized the name from the directory in the lobby. Carmen Golden.
He moved — small and fast. He ducked behind a large potted fern as a waiter pushed a cart past, then scurried down the corridor, counting door numbers under his breath.
400… 401… 402.
The door was open.
Aaden peeked inside.
Carmen Golden sat behind a large glass desk, typing furiously on her laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. Stacks of files rose around her. She looked stressed.
.