The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 312

Char

As they neared the table, Dahlia looked up, her expression soft but discerning. “Good morning,” she

greeted smoothly. “You all took your time.”

Maya smiled first. “Good morning, Aunt Dahlia.” She leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on

the cheek.

Dahlia leaned forward in return, resting her head briefly against Maya’s and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Gently taking her hand in hers, she smiled warmly. “Maya, sweetheart, please sit beside

me.”

Maya settled into the seat beside her, a small smile lingering on her lips.

“Morning, Mom,” Damien said, leaning down to kiss Dahlia’s cheek before taking the seat beside

Maya.

“Son,” Dahlia replied softly, a flicker of pride in her eyes.

Her gaze returned to Maya. “Did you have a good rest, dear?”

A faint flush crept up Maya’s cheeks before she could stop it. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Damien-just long enough for Dahlia to notice the tiny, telling glance-before she answered with a shy smile.

“Mm… yes,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I did. Slept… really well, actually.

Damien’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk beside her, while Dahlia’s knowing eyes softened with

quiet amusement.

Dahlia’s gaze lingered on the two of them and a gentle warmth bloomed in her chest. There it was, unmistakable: the spark between them. The way her son’s usual cool, shadowed demeanor softened in Maya’s presence. The light she brought to him, effortlessly, without even trying. It made Dahlia’s heart flutter in quiet delight.

Maya, noticing the tender look, quickly composed herself and smiled. “Um… how about you? Did you sleep well?”

Dahlia let out a soft chuckle, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. “I won’t deny it took me a while -my mind was everywhere.” She paused, a small laugh escaping her lips. “But surprisingly, I slept deeply in the end.”

Her eyes drifted toward the horizon, where the first streaks of sunlight brushed the still sea.

Maybe it’s because, for the first time in so long, there’s a sense of… clarity,” she murmured, her tone

|||

Ashcroft raised his coffee, then paused mid-sip, letting the warmth of the cup linger in his hands. He leaned back in his chair, jaw tight, eyes flicking briefly toward the empty space where Harper should have been. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at his lips.

“Just… took care of something,” he said smoothly, voice even, measured. “And I gave her a hand with… some trash.”

His words were casual, but the subtle weight behind them-the memory, the guilt, the thrill-hung in the air. He let the silence stretch, letting Dahlia fill the gap with her own curiosity.

Dahlia’s brows lifted slightly, a spark of curiosity in her eyes, though she kept her tone measured. “I see… I hope that ‘something’ didn’t involve any trouble.”

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