Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 141

Chapter 136: Meeting Brew and Lake

Sedona’s POV

The two boys were in the corner by the bookshelf.

That was the first thing I registered-the specific way that they were, tucked into the quieter end of the sitting room with the bookshelf at their backs and a reasonable amount of floor space in front of them, which had the quality of a position someone had selected deliberately. Far away from the guests who were socializing with their friends and laughing.

Meanwhile in their section of them was talking.

The other one was not.

The one who was talking had Lucian’s specific way of talking and looks. -I recognized him before I’d consciously made the identification, the same dark eyes and the same complete commitment to whatever he was currently focused on,

The other boy was smaller-not by much, they appeared to be roughly the same age, but he sat with the posture of someone who was used to shrinking himself to make himself invisible because it was a personal trait of him, his arms around his knees, watching Lake’s inspection with an expression that was carefully neutral and showing no active emotions so I couldn’t judge what he was feeling.

He had Dante’s eyes.

I understood this before Dante said anything, before we’d covered the remaining distance- He had Dante’s eyes and face although his face, was a bit rounder with the softness of four years old, but the same structure.

“Drew,” Dante said, when we’d gotten close enough.

The smaller boy looked up immediately-not startled, just responsive, the look of someone who’d been waiting for a familiar voice without making it obvious they were waiting for that familiar voice to find them.

“This is Sedona,” Dante said. “I told you about her.”

Drew looked at me.

I looked at Drew.

He didn’t say anything. He held my gaze the same way his dad did and then looked at his knees, which he readjusted slightly, and then looked back at me from this new configuration, apparently finding it marginally more acceptable.

“Hi, Drew,” I said.

He made a small sound that was not quite a word but was definitely a response-acknowledgment without commitment.

Lake nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the bookshelf.

Lucian appeared fully at my side with the expression of a man who had brought his four-year-old to a party because the babysitter had canceled and was now experiencing the specific anxiety of watching his four-year-old operate without a filter in front of people he’d like to make a good impression with.

“He’s very-” Lucian started.

“Enthusiastic,” Dante said, which was neither agreement nor disagreement but was accurate.

“I was going to say communicative,” Lucian said. “He communicates a lot. Frequently. In detail.”

“I love it,” I said, and meant it.

Lucian looked at me with the slight adjustment of someone reassessing. “You do.”

“He’s been providing running commentary since I walked in. It’s very-” I watched Lake/crouch down to examine something on the lowest shelf with the focus of a field researcher. “It’s very complete.”

“He has very thorough coverage,” Lucian agreed, in the tone of someone who had been living with that sort of commentary for four years and had gotten used to it.