"Can I co inside?"
I felt like I was about to collapse at those words. I imdiately pulled my hand away from his grip, as if his touch could burn .
What is he doing here? And how do I get out of this situation?
I could barely move, frozen in place by the violent pounding of my heart.
It felt like it would break free from my chest—not from fear for myself, but for the children sleeping soundly in the room with Gabriel.
What if Ro suddenly goes in there?
What if he recognizes the kids right away?
What if—
"Sylvia," his voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Have you co to your senses now? Or are you not even going to let into your little ho?"
All my panic surged back, drowning out every rational thought. I swallowed hard, trembling.
"Y-You... what are you d-doing here?" I managed to stamr.
His expression didn’t change—not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face.
"I already told you. I ca here to get my son. Gabriel." he replied coldly, his gaze drifting around the living room as he slowly stepped farther inside.
"I’m a visitor. Aren’t you going to at least let sit?"
He was already inside—and yet he was still demanding more.
"N-No. You shouldn’t have co in here," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear tightening around my throat. "Just stay where you are. Or better yet, leave. I’ll bring Gabriel to you myself."
I forced myself to step back slowly, trying not to betray the panic rising in .
It wasn’t that late yet—the children could wake up at any mont from the slightest noise. And if they did... the worst-case scenario would be them walking out and seeing the one person they should never et.
I caught a glimpse of his clenched jaw as he surveyed the house again.
And then... his gaze landed on the only bedroom—just a few steps away from where we stood.
The room where my children were sleeping.
My anxiety instantly intensified. Where the heck are Alpheus and Alfonso? What if Ro forces his way into that bedroom?
"Is he sleeping in there?" he asked coldly, his eyes still fixed on the door to the room.
"Y-Yes." I replied, trying to maintain composure. "Which is why it’s best if you step outside now, Mr. Hariston. This is my house—and you’re trespassing."
I looked him squarely in the eye, hoping to emphasize my point.
The corner of his lips curled slightly into a smug smile.
"But I’m a guest—and the father of the child you’re hiding in that room. It’s all over the news that he’s missing. But instead of informing anyone or bringing him back to us, you chose to keep him here with you.
His gaze sharpened, turning almost accusatory.
"So you should be thankful I didn’t show up with the police for failing to report that my son is here. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose... now that you know he’s a Hariston."
I hadn’t even realized how tightly my fists had curled at my sides. He’s shaless. But I couldn’t bring myself to say that out loud. One wrong word and he might start demanding even more.
Right now, the best thing I could do was stay calm—and avoid falling into his provocation.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Hariston, if that’s what you think,"I said, trying to keep my voice even. "But as you can see, I don’t even have a television to watch the news. And it’s not like I had no intention of reporting Gabriel to the police—because tomorrow morning, that was exactly what I planned to do. I’m not keeping your son here because I want to. And I’m certainly not kidnapping him. It was your son’s request—not to tell anyone where he is. Not even you."
I saw it—just a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Maybe he didn’t expect to say that.
And just like that, Gabriel’s words from earlier ca rushing back to ...
He was both a terrible husband and an even worse father—and seeing him now, acting like this in front of , only made the anger in my heart grow stronger.
The fear I felt earlier was slowly fading... it was gradually being replaced with fury.
"So I—I believe it’s also your fault." I snapped, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
"It’s your fault your own son doesn’t want to see you. And for your information, you should be thanking , at the very least—because I was the one who found your son wandering around a place like this. If soone dangerous, or soone with bad intentions, had seen him first—can you even imagine what could’ve happened to him?"
I hadn’t realized I was clenching my jaw until I spoke.
I should be the one afraid in this situation.
But no—he should be ashad. I took his son in.
I protected him. That gives the upper hand.
He doesn’t even know about my kids yet. I need to stay calm.
I noticed a subtle softening in his expression—but it didn’t last. His gaze lingered a little longer than necessary... and then it shifted—to my clothes. His stare stayed there a bit too long, making suddenly self-conscious.
I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest and glanced down at what I was wearing.
And then it hit .
Damn it...
A white shirt. No bra. Why didn’t I even realize it?!
I was finally regaining my composure—finally turning the situation in my favor—and now I’m stuck in an embarrassing position because of sothing so stupid.
"Do you wear clothes like that in front of Gabriel?" he asked, his expression suddenly darkening. "Or to the people who co to visit you?"
What the hell is his problem now?
"O-ofcourse not!" I shot back, flustered but firm. "I j-just didn’t expect an uninvited guest like you to show up at this hour! It’s late. It’s supposed to be a ti for rest. And you expect to dress up just because you showed up?"
That seed to shut him up for a mont. But then—slowly—his lips curved into a smirk.
Wait..what d-did I just say out loud?
Oh damn..
I didn’t even realize what I said. I should’ve said sothing right away—because now it sounds like I’m totally fine wearing this in front of him.
Ro’s grin didn’t fade. In fact, it grew wider.
"Are you trying to seduce ?" he teased, the glint in his eyes infuriating. "You must’ve known Gabriel is my son, so maybe—just maybe—you purposely didn’t bother to wear—"
"Stop!" I snapped, cutting him off as I slapped my hand over his mouth before he could say anything more indecent.
I didn’t even expect to raise my voice like that—but this man was seriously getting on my nerves.
Damn it. He always managed to get under my skin—to twist the situation in his favor. It’s like he had wrapped around his finger, and I hated it. I hated how I always ended up looking like a fool in front of him.
And then—my eyes widened.
I felt it.
His lips moved against my palm... soft, warm, and slightly damp.
A jolt shot through .
I instantly jerked my hand away as if I’d been burned. My face must have turned a deep shade of red as I glared at him.
This jerk—did he just do that on purpose?
He didn’t even look the slightest bit guilty. In fact, the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips only made it worse.
All kinds of emotions were crashing into at once, but the irritation was definitely winning.
"Why are you so uncomfortable right now?" he asked mockingly, lifting his upper lip into another annoying smirk as he took a step toward .
Click..
The sound of a door opening.
My heart jumped. I quickly shoved Ro away and rushed to the door, grabbing the knob and forcing it open to push him outside.
Damn it... I gripped the doorknob tightly, trying to steady myself.
"M-Mom? Who were you talking to?" a small voice asked behind .
I slowly turned around to find Egypt, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, a teddy bear clutched in one hand.
I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my forehead from the tension I couldn’t explain.
Ro was still outside the door, and Egypt was standing right in front of —looking at with sleepy, questioning eyes.
What am I even supposed to do in a situation like this?
"H-Haha... Sweetheart, it’s nothing..." I said, forcing a laugh as I tried to compose myself.
"Why are you awake at this hour? You should go back to bed, okay? Let’s go to our room first and—"
Knock. Knock...
I flinched, eyes shutting tightly for a second.
Damn it.
That echoed far too loudly. Of course, it had to be Ro.
"Mom, who’s that?" Egypt asked, frowning as her brows knit together.
She must’ve found it odd—how tense and strange I was acting. I realized then how odd I must’ve looked—standing stiffly by the door, hand still gripping the doorknob as if my life depended on it.
"There’s soone knocking, Mom. Aren’t you even going to open the door?"
I couldn’t answer.
Because honestly? I didn’t know what to do anymore.
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