A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 393

Alexander

We stood there in the parking lot, the evening air suddenly feeling cold despite the mild temperature.

“That kid is too familiar,” Anthony continued. “I kept looking at him, trying to figure out why he seemed so recognizable. And then it hit me.”

“What hit you?”

“I remembered someone from my childhood.” Anthony’s expression was troubled, “A little boy whorn I used to play with at country club events. Who asked a million questions and never sat still. Who had this particular way of gesturing when he got excited, like his hands couldn’t keep up with his thoughts.”

My chest felt tight. “Your point?”

“My point is that kid reminded me of you, Alex. When you were his age.” Anthony paused. “Which raises a very interesting question.‘

“Which is?”

“How come that kid is so similar to you?”

I wanted to deny it, to laugh it off, to come up with some rational explanation for why a random child in Connecticut would bear any resemblance to me.

But I couldn’t.

Because the moment I’d seen the boy’s face, something in my brain had short–circuited. Recognition without understanding. Familiarity without explanation.

The kid had my eyes. That same shade that ran in my family. The same shape. The same way of looking at the world with curiosity and calculation mixed together.

And the hands. The way he gesticulated when he talked. Wild, enthusiastic movements that were almost exact copies of how I moved when I got excited about something. My mother used to tell me I looked like I was conducting an orchestra whenever I explained something I cared about. 1

This kid did the same thing.

“I don’t know,” I said finally, the words feeling hollow.

Anthony was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed, the sound heavy with something I couldn’t quite identify.

“Okay. Let me lay out some scenarios for you. Scenario one: Madison got pregnant before she left Knight Industries. Maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t. But she left before telling you. Went to Connecticut, had the baby, built a life.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Anthony held up a hand.

“Scenario two: She found out about your engagement to Katherine. Felt hurt, betrayed, whatever. Left New York because she couldn’t handle watching you with Katherine. Then discovered she was pregnant, but decided you’d made your choice. So she made hers. Kept the baby. Raised him alone.”

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The words hit me like physical blows. Each one was calculated to cause maximum damage.

“Scenario three,” Anthony continued, his voice taking on an edge, “Maybe she tried to reach you. Called your office, sent messages, fried every channel she could think of. But you were too busy dealing with Katherine, or the engagement announcement, or whatever crisis was consuming you at the time. So after weeks of getting nowhere, she gave up.”

I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand.

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“Or scenario four,” Anthony continued. “You’re just an asshole who deliberately avoided her. Maybe you saw her messages and decided the engagement to Katherine was more important than dealing with whatever Madison wanted. Maybe you’re exactly the kind of guy who’d knock up his assistant and then ignore her.”

The words hit like physical blows,

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“You’ve done plenty of questionable things over the years. This wouldn’t even crack the top ten.”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

“Did you try to find out why she left?”

Silence.

“Exactly.” Anthony shook his head. “That kid is what, four? Five? The timeline works. Madison left five years ago. Do the math.”

I already had. The numbers were burned into my brain. “She could have gotten pregnant after she left.”

“With someone who happens to look exactly like you did as a child?”

“Coincidence.”

“Bullshit.” Anthony’s voice dropped. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. But that kid deserves a father. And if you’re the father, you need to step up or step aside. This halfway stalking nonsense isn’t helping anyone.”

My hands clenched at my sides. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand. What part am I missing?”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building. “Madison left without a word. Quit her job, moved to Connecticut, built an entire life without me. If she were pregnant, she made the deliberate choice not to tell me.‘ “Maybe because you were engaged to Katherine? Did you ever consider that Madison might have feelings for you? That she might have been hurt when you moved on so quickly?”

“Our arrangement was purely professional.” 1

“Professional,” Anthony scoffed. “You expect me to believe that? The way you’ve been acting since you saw her again? That’s not professional interest.”

I said nothing because he was right. And I hated it.

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Chapter 393

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“Maybe Madison had good reasons for not telling you about the kid. Maybe she tried, and you didn’t hear her. Maybe she thought you’d reject them both. Or maybe she just wanted to protect her son from the chaos of your life.” He paused. “But you won’t know unless you ask her directly.”

“Ask her directly,” I repeated.

“Yes. Use your words. Have an actual conversation like a normal human being instead of conducting surveillance operations and lurking in parking lots.”

The parking lot suddenly felt too small. Too exposed. Like everyone could see exactly what a disaster I was.

“What if she tells me to leave?”

“Then you leave.” Anthony shrugged. “But at least you’ll know.”

I stared at the empty space where Madison’s car had been, her words echoing in my head. “I thought you knew who he was.”

What did that mean? That she’d tried to tell me and I’d missed it? That it should have been obvious? That I was an idiot for not figuring it out sooner? (1

“I need to talk to her,” I said finally.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

“But not tonight. She’s already upset. Showing up at her house would only make things worse.”

Anthony nodded. “Tomorrow then. Give her time to calm down. But don’t wait too long or you’ll lose your nerve.

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We climbed back into the car, the leather seats cool against my back. I started the engine but didn’t move, just sat there gripping the steering wheel.

“You know what the worst part is?” I asked.

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