Mom, Don't Cry! Here comes a new Daddy! novel Chapter 144

Chapter 128

(Sabrina’s POV)

I’m helping Jake with breakfast when Ethan’s phone rings. He looks at the screen. His expression shifts into something I can’t quite read.

“It’s Gran.”

My hand stills on the orange juice pitcher.

“Answer it.”

He does, putting it on speaker.

“Grandmother.”

“Ethan.” Kate’s voice is crisp. Professional. Like she’s discussing a business transaction instead of calling her grandson. “I’ve been thinking about your announcement at the gala.”

“And?”

“And I realize I’ve been… resistant. To changes I should have embraced.” A pause. “You’re right. Sabrina is going to be your wife. Which means she should see where the Hale family actually lives. Not just your bachelor penthouse.”

Ethan’s eyes meet mine across the kitchen island.

“You’re inviting us to the estate?”

“I’m inviting my future granddaughter-in-law to see her future home. Yes.”

Future home.

My stomach turns.

“When?” Ethan asks.

“Today. If you’re available. Lunch at one. We can discuss wedding plans. Make this official.”

“Sabrina and I will talk about it-”

“We’ll be there,” I hear myself say.

Kate’s satisfaction bleeds through the phone. “Wonderful. I’ll have the staff prepare. Oh, and Ethan? Bring Jake. I’d like to get to know my future grandson as well.”

She hangs up before either of us can respond.

Ethan looks at me. “I suspect foul play.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“I can’t. But I know my Grandmother.”

Chapter 122

“She’s extending an olive branch. I’m not going to slap it away.”

“That wasn’t an olive branch. That was a summons.”

“Then we go to the summons:”

“Are you sure about this?”

“The dice has already been rolled. There’s no point in hesitating now.”

Jake looks up from his cereal. “So we passed the first level of the game? Does this mean we’re finally going to enter the castle?”

“Not a castle,” Ethan says. “Home. A very large home.”

“With servants?”

“With staff. Yes.”

Jake’s eyes light up. “Can I bring my sketchbook?”

“You want to draw there?” I ask.

“I want to draw everywhere.” He shrugs like this is obvious. “I have a project for school. I need to draw who is in my family.”

He’s been working on this project for weeks and refuses to show me what he’s drawing, saying it’s a surprise.

“Fine. But best behavior, okay? No running. No loud voices. Use your manners.”

“Mom…I always use my manners.” He looks offended.

“I know, baby. I just mean extra manners. The kind you use at fancy restaurants.”

“The Hale Estate requires extra manners?”

“The Hale Estate requires everything extra.”

Jake gives me a strange look, but doesn’t argue. Nodding his head, he runs up the stairs to change.

The drive takes forty-five minutes.

We leave the city behind. Watch buildings turn into trees. Pavement turns into long private roads with no streetlights.

Then we reach the gates.

Actual gates. Wrought iron. Twelve feet tall. With the Hale family crest worked into the metalwork.

They open automatically as we approach. Like they’ve been expecting us.

The driveway is half a mile long.

Trees line both sides. Old trees. The kind that take a hundred years to grow this tall. The grounds are pristine. Perfect. Not a leaf out of place.

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And then the house comes into view. Calling it a house is wrong.

Jake was right to call it a castle.

No.

A monument.

Three stories of stone and glass and architecture that probably costs more to maintain than most people earn in a lifetime. Wings spreading out on both sides. Columns. A fountain in the circular drive. Balconies. More windows than I can count.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

“Language,” Jake says automatically.

But his eyes are wide. He’s staring at the house the way I am.

Like we’ve just driven into a different world.

Ethan pulls up to the front entrance. Before he can turn off the car, staff appear. Three of them. In actual

uniforms like that Cinderella movie.

One opens my door. Another opens Jake’s. A third speaks to Ethan in low tones about parking the car.

We’re ushered inside by a new team of staff who’ve been waiting at the entrance.

And get this. The entry hall is bigger than my entire house. Marble floors. A staircase that curves up to the second floor like something from a movie. Paintings on the walls that I recognize from textbooks. Actual masterpieces. Hanging in someone’s entry hall.

My heels click on the marble. The sound echoes through the high ceiling building.

I feel like I’m walking into a real time castle, or palace. Not a home. And this reality overwhelms me.

A woman appears. Older. Impeccably dressed. She introduces herself as Mrs. Chen, the head of household staff.

“Mrs. Hale is waiting in the main sitting room. This way, please.”

We follow her through hallways lined with more art. More evidence of wealth so old and so deep it’s become its own kind of gravity.

Jake stays close to me. One hand clutching his sketchbook. The other holding his phone.

“Why do you have your phone?” I whisper.

“For my project. I might need to take pictures.”

Before I can question this further, we reach the sitting room.

Kate is already there. Seated in a chair that looks like a throne. Rosalie beside her in a slightly smaller chair. Both of them perfect. Both of them belonging here in a way I never will.

“Sabrina. Jake. Welcome to the Hale Estate.” Kate stands. Walks over. Takes my hand. “I’m glad you

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