The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 449

Chapter 197: Like Old Times-2

+25 Points

A faint, almost uncharacteristic smile tugged at his lips. “It’s… heartening, Madam. It would be nice to see you and Sir Damien share a morning like this again.”

Dahlia’s lips curved into a soft laugh. “Then it’s about time we change that.”

She glanced toward the staircase, her eyes almost misty. “I’ve been away so much, searching for

Malia… but now that I’ve found her children, I’ve somehow found her too.”

Her gaze returned to Alfred, steady and warm. “I want to make the most of the time I have with my

family-especially with my son.”

She paused, a flicker of emotion in her voice. “You’ve watched him grow, seen his ups and downs…

She glanced at Alfred, her eyes softening. “…and by now, you know that once he sets his mind on

something-or someone-he will not stop until he succeeds.” Her voice cracked just slightly, but

the joy behind it was unmistakable.

Alfred’s eyes softened, a small, almost reverent nod acknowledging her words.

“Damien should be down soon. Let’s make the most of it, Alfred,” she said, her smile returning as a quiet determination settled over her.

He nodded, a quiet pride shining in his eyes as he moved to marshal the staff, the clatter of trays

and silverware punctuating the warm, anticipatory energy of the manor.

Dahlia stepped outside and drew in a slow breath. The morning air was cool and clean against her

skin, touched with the scent of dew, earth, and trimmed hedges. Beyond the patio, dawn stretched

across the horizon in soft gold, while the first birds of morning called gently through the stillness.

For a moment, she simply stood there and let the quiet settle around her.

Then she turned and went back inside.

The freshness of the morning lingered with her as she returned to the kitchen, where warmth and

quiet activity welcomed her. Without pause, she slipped into familiar motions guided as much by

memory as by habit.

She began with the hot cocoa.

It had always been Damien’s favorite, and she made it now with the same care she had years ago. Milk warmed slowly over the stove, dark cocoa folded in until it turned smooth and rich, followed by just enough sweetness to soften the bitterness and the faintest hint of cinnamon.

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Chapter 197 Like Old Times 2

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It was a method she had learned long ago during stolen afternoons at the Harrington estate, in old kitchens where recipes were passed down in low voices and love was often expressed through

the smallest details.

As the cocoa thickened, its rich aroma filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh bread and

warm butter. Dahlia arranged the cups herself, each soft clink of porcelain stirring memories of

simpler mornings-of family gathered close, laughter untouched by grief, and a little boy who used to demand his cocoa before he was fully awake.

For the first time in a long while, the manor smelled like those mornings again.

She then asked Alfred to have the house staff carry everything out to the patio. As she stepped out of the kitchen, the quiet was broken by the sound of measured footsteps descending the polished

staircase.

Dahlia lifted her gaze just as Damien came into view. She gestured for them to go ahead as she

waited for Damien to reach the bottom of the stairs.

He descended with his usual composed stride, calm and collected on the surface, though the lingering strain of the past days still clung to him in ways only a mother would notice. It was there

in the faint heaviness beneath his eyes, in the restraint held too tightly across his shoulders-subtle

signs of a man who carried far more than he ever allowed anyone to see.

A small smile touched Dahlia’s lips.

“Hm… there you are,” she said warmly, her eyes sweeping over him with quiet approval. “Just in

time. You look much better now, son-far less exhausted than when I saw you earlier.” She

gestured lightly toward the open doors. “Come. I had everything set on the patio.”

With that, she turned and began walking toward it.

Something faint shifted in Damien’s expression-so subtle most people would have missed it, but

softer, almost caught off guard.

He hadn’t expected this.

When his mother had spoken of breakfast, he had assumed she meant something simple and ordinary-a meal in the dining room, nothing more. The thought that she had everything arranged outside, on the patio, had not crossed his mind. And for reasons he could not immediately explain, that small detail struck something quiet in him.

He could barely remember the last time he had sat outside like this, sharing breakfast with his mother beneath the open morning sky.

Perhaps the last time had been when he was fourteen, back when mornings had still carried a

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Chapter 197 Like Old Times 2

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certain ease-before responsibility, power, and the endless demands of adulthood had stripped

them of their simplicity.

He followed her outside and took the seat across from her, settling into it with a rare ease.

Morning light stretched over the manor’s stone walls, brushing them in soft gold, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world beyond its grounds seemed mercifully far away.

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