He stepped out of the car.

Rain instantly soaked his expensive coat, but he barely noticed.

“Ethan.”

The boy froze.

Marisol looked up—and the moment her eyes met his, her breath caught.

She recognized him immediately.

Daniel Carter.

One of the most powerful businessmen in the country.

A widower. A billionaire. A man known for control, precision… and distance.

And suddenly, only one thought echoed in her mind:

That’s his father.

She stepped back quickly, tightening her hold on her baby.

“You’re—”

“You’re the kindest person I’ve met in years,” Daniel said, his voice unsteady.

Heat rushed to her face despite the cold.

Panic followed.

Men like him didn’t usually speak to women like her—unless something was wrong.

He probably thinks I want something.

She reached to take her jacket back, ready to leave.

But Ethan grabbed her sleeve.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please.”

She hesitated.

Rain hammered the pavement. Cars hissed past. Her baby shifted against her chest, warm and fragile.

Daniel stood there—composed on the outside, but something raw flickered in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“He was cold,” she replied simply.

Not you’re welcome. Not it’s nothing.

Just the truth.

Ethan wiped his face quickly, trying to act older than he was.

“I was fine,” he muttered.

“You were lost in a storm,” Daniel replied.

“I didn’t want to go home.”

The words fell heavy between them.

Marisol felt it instantly.

Children don’t say that lightly.

Not unless home feels emptier than the street.

Daniel felt it too.

After a long moment, Marisol spoke again—unable to stay silent.

“Maybe,” she said, “before deciding who’s right or wrong… you just make sure he’s warm.”

Silence.

Then Daniel nodded.

“You’re right.”

He turned to his driver. “Start the car.”

Then, softer to his son, “You don’t have to talk yet.”

Ethan nodded.

Marisol tried again to take back her jacket.

Daniel stopped her.

“Let him keep it.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is to me.”

She glanced down at her baby, who was starting to fuss.

“I should go.”

“At least let us drive you home,” Daniel said.

“I’ve managed this far.”

Ethan spoke again.

“Please.”

She looked at him—and something softened.

“…Just home,” she said.

“Just home,” Daniel agreed.

The car was warm. Too warm.

It made her soaked clothes feel even colder.

Ethan sat beside her. Daniel across.

Her baby began to cry.

“I need to feed him,” she said quietly.

Daniel turned his gaze away immediately.

“That’s fine.”