A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 440

Alexander

"Ethan's been exploring for a while," she observed. "Should we check on him?"

"He's fine. The penthouse is childproofed. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"There aren't any sharp edges or exposed outlets." I dried my hands on a towel. "And the balcony doors lock automatically."

"Reassuring."

I caught the edge in her voice. Not quite sarcasm, but close. "You don't trust me to keep him safe."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

Madison's jaw tightened. "I just met you a few days ago as his father, Alexander. Forgive me for being cautious."

Fair point. I'd walked back into her life after five years' absence and expected instant trust. That wasn't reasonable.

"You're right," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Her eyebrows rose. "Did Alexander Knight just apologize?"

"It happens occasionally. When I'm wrong."

"How often is that?"

"Not often enough, apparently."

Her lips twitched. Almost a smile.

Ethan's voice carried down the hallway, singing something with no rhythm whatsoever.

"He's having fun," Madison said, her expression softening.

"He is."

We moved toward the sound together, finding Ethan in my office. He'd somehow managed to spin my desk chair in circles, his arms spread wide like an airplane.

"I'm flying!" he announced. "Look how fast I'm going!"

Madison moved to stop him, but I caught her wrist gently.

"Let him spin."

"He'll get dizzy."

"Probably. But he's happy."

She pulled her hand free but didn't intervene. We stood together in the doorway, watching Ethan spin himself into oblivion.

"I'm gonna throw up!" he declared cheerfully.

"Then you should probably stop," Madison suggested.

Ethan immediately planted his feet, the chair grinding to a halt. He swayed slightly, giggling. "That was awesome!"

"Come here, baby." Madison held out her arms. "Let's get you away from expensive furniture before you actually get sick."

Ethan stumbled toward her, still laughing. She caught him, steadying his small body with practiced ease.

"You okay?" she asked, smoothing his hair.

"I'm perfect! Can I spin again?"

"Absolutely not."

"But Mom!"

"No spinning. We're guests here."

Ethan's face fell. "Oh. Sorry, King Alexander. I didn't mean to mess up your chair."

"You didn't mess up anything," I assured him. "The chair's meant to spin."

"Really?" His eyes lit up. "So I can do it again?"

"Ethan," Madison warned.

"Maybe later," I said, shooting Madison a glance. "After we do something else."

"Like what?"

Good question. What did people do with four-year-olds in penthouses?

"How about we go out in the evening?" I suggested. "Somewhere fun."

"Where?" Ethan bounced on his toes, his dizziness apparently forgotten.

"It's a surprise."

"I love surprises!" He grabbed both our hands, swinging them between us.

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