Alexander glared at Henry with contempt.
The tension between them was almost tangible–two powerful men facing off with my son caught between them.
I’d been deliberately avoiding financial news lately, but the upheaval surrounding Harding Investment was impossible fo ignore. The company’s stock had been fluctuating wildly, rumors of instability creating waves throughout Wall Street.
Alexander, ever the shrewd businessman, had seized the opportunity.
Unlike William’s underhanded tactics, Alexander had played by the rules–legitimate business competition, acquiring shares when prices dropped, strategically investing where it hurt the Harding family most.
Perfectly legal, yet devastatingly effective.
Henry was fully aware of Alexander’s moves. Watching Alexander approach, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his entire body tensing like a predator preparing to strike.
“People who meddle in others‘ affairs don’t tend to live long, Henry said coldly, his voice carrying the unmistakable edge of a threat.
The relationship between these two had always been strained.
William had a soft spot for Alexander, impressed by his business acumen, but Henry despised him–especially his constant hovering around me.
Back when we were married, Henry could at least pull rank as my husband whenever Alexander got too close.
Now, divorced, he had no legitimate claim to keep Alexander away from me, and I could see how it ate at him.
Alexander remained unfazed by Henry’s hostility.
He continued assembling his fishing rod, smiling as though they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather.
“You’re wrong, Mr. Harding,” Alexander said with a grin. “I’m four years younger than you, so statistically speaking, you’ll die before I do!” His eyes glinted mischievously. “I’m only three years older than Sophia, while you’re seven years her senior. By that logic, I’ll have much more time with her than you ever will.”
He wasn’t finished. “Besides, I’m in my prime right now. I’m much better suited for Sophia than you are. You should stop clinging to her.”
Since the divorce, Alexander had been relentlessly pursuing Sophia. Though he hadn’t officially declared his intentions, everyone exactly what he was after.
The reason he hadn’t formally pursued Sophia was simple–he believed the timing wasn’t right.
He understood that a woman hurt in marriage would need at least three years to heal from a broken heart.
Rushing a confession now would only backfire, pushing her away rather than drawing her closer.
around knew
So Alexander had decided on the long game–winning Sophia’s heart through consistent presence and unwavering support. As for Billy, Alexander genuinely adored him. He never treated Billy like an outsider. Who wouldn’t want a ready–made family with such an adorable little boy?
Now, seeing Billy nestled comfortably in Henry’s arms, Alexander couldn’t resist the urge to provoke his rival further.
“Billy, come over to Uncle Alexander!” he called, waving to Billy. “I’ll teach you how to fish.”
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Like many others, Alexander believed the vicious online rumors claiming Billy wasn’t Henry’s biological child. The gossip had painted me as unfaithful, dragging my name through the mud.
But Billy, who hadn’t seen Henry in several days, was firmly in his father’s camp.
At Alexander’s invitation, he wrinkled his nose in disgust.
I don’t want to!” he declared firmly, turning his back to Alexander. His little round bottom jutted out indignantly as he wrapped his chubby arms around Henry’s neck and burrowed deeper into his father’s embrace, resembling a plump little ball,
Billy’s adorable rejection instantly softened Henry’s stern expression. He adjusted his hold, supporting Billy more securely with one arm, his face transforming with a rare, genuine smile.
“Mr. Sanders should focus on his own affairs,” Henry said with satisfaction, his voice warm. “My Billy doesn’t like you very much, does he?”
Moments earlier, when Alexander had mentioned their age difference, Henry had been silently fuming, mentally composing retorts.
But Billy’s simple gesture of preference had completely disarmed him. Holding my round little son, his eyes softened and crinkled, treating Billy exactly as he would his own flesh and blood.
It was strange–from the very first moment Henry met Billy, he’d shown an unusual affinity for the child. Despite his reputation for cold aloofness and superiority, something about Billy drew out a natural warmth in him. There was an instinctive connection that defied explanation.
Unfortunately, Henry rarely smiled, and his perpetually serious expression often made Billy cry. Over time, this had made Henry hesitant to get too close to the boy.
Having failed to rattle Henry, Alexander turned his attention back to me.
“Sophia, come over here,” he called. “I’ll teach you how to fish. Trust me, my technique is excellent–even William praises my skills.”
I glanced nervously at Henry, who was still holding Billy. I smiled politely at Alexander and declined: “No thanks, I’m fine on my own. You go
ahead.”
With Billy firmly in Henry’s possession, I didn’t dare say anything that might anger him.
After all, Henry had a history of taking Billy away when he was upset–a card he’d played far too often.
When Alexander called out to me, Henry’s gaze had locked onto mine, silently threatening. The message was clear: if I accepted Alexander’s invitation, he would take Billy, ensuring I wouldn’t see my son for the rest of the day.
His tactic worked perfectly.
I refused Alexander, leaving him visibly disappointed.
Henry’s face lit up with smug satisfaction. Still carrying Billy, he walked over to where I was sitting. He grabbed a small chair and placed it right next to mine, setting Billy on his lap. From a distance, we must have looked like a perfect family of three enjoying a camping trip by the lake.
Alexander’s jealousy was palpable. Determined not to let Henry win so easily, he called out again: “Sophia, there aren’t any fish where you’re sitting. Come over here–look, they’re already biting at my hook!”
I instinctively glanced sidelong at Henry.
He was sitting close–only a fist’s width between us–with Billy playing with his shirt buttons on his lap.
Sensing my observation, Henry turned toward me.
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Just as our eyes were about to meet, I quickly looked away, pretending to admire the scenery around the lake.
Henry pressed his lips together, his expression that of a fox who’d caught the scent of his prey.
He’d noticed my furtive glance and knew full well that with Billy in his arms, I wouldn’t dare join Alexander.
A smile spread across his handsome face as he leaned in close.
1 I felt his warm breath against my ear as he whispered in that deep, velvety voice of his:
Like what you see? If you like it, keep looking!”
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