The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Chapter 76: Heartwarming Moments

Aria POV

"I will." He picked up his wine glass, the wine swirled dark and red. "Every day until you say yes."

I grabbed my own glass. It was still half full. The wine had warmed to room temperature as I headed for my room. "Goodnight, Damien."

"Goodnight, Aria."

I closed my bedroom door and leaned against it my heart pounding.

Two Days Later - Morning

I woke to voices in the kitchen, again.

This was becoming a pattern. Damien cooking breakfast, Noah chattering, the smell of coffee and something burning. The acrid scent drifted down the hallway, mixing with the sweeter scent of vanilla and cinnamon.

I smiled despite myself and got up. The floor was cool under my feet. Morning light spilled through the bedroom windows, painting everything gold.

The scene in the kitchen was chaotic. Noah stood on a stool beside Damien, both of them covered in flour. White powder dusted their hair, their clothes, their faces. Pancake batter was everywhere—on the counter in thick globs, on the floor in sticky puddles, somehow on the ceiling in pale splatters.

"What happened here?" I asked from the doorway.

"Science experiment!" Noah announced proudly, his hands were white up to his elbows. "Daddy said we could test pancake velocity!"

"Pancake velocity." I looked at Damien, a streak of batter decorated his cheek as flour clung to his dark hair like premature gray. "Really?"

He shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "He asked if pancakes could fly. I said, "Let’s find out."

"By throwing batter at the ceiling?"

"It was more of a flipping incident." He gestured to the pan. The metal was scorched black in one spot. Smoke curled lazily from the edges. "We got a little enthusiastic."

"I can see that." But I was laughing now. The sound bubbled up from my chest. "Mrs. Dora is going to kill you both."

"Mrs. Dora has the day off." He flipped a pancake—successfully this time. It spun through the air, golden and perfect, landing back in the pan with a soft thud. "Which means we’re on our own."

"Dangerous words."

"We’re doing fine!" Noah protested. His nose had a smudge of batter on the tip. "Daddy only burned three pancakes!"

"Only three?"

"It’s an improvement," Damien said. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Yesterday was five."

I moved into the kitchen, careful to avoid the flour on the floor. The tiles were slippery. My bare feet left prints in the white dust. "Move over. Let me show you how it’s done."

"You’re going to steal my moment of glory?" But Damien stepped aside, letting me take the spatula. His hand brushed mine as he passed it over.

"There’s no glory in burned pancakes." I adjusted the heat. The dial clicked under my fingers. Blue flames shrank to a gentle flicker. I poured fresh batter. It sizzled when it hit the hot surface, spreading into a perfect circle. The smell was immediate—butter and vanilla and sweet dough.

"You have to be patient and wait for the bubbles."

"What bubbles?" Noah peered at the pan. He stood on his tiptoes, leaning dangerously forward as I steadied him with one hand.

"See?" I pointed. Tiny bubbles formed on the pale surface, popping softly. "When these little bubbles appear on the surface, that’s when you flip."

"Oooh." Noah watched intently. "It’s like magic!"

"It’s science," I corrected, but I was smiling. I slid the spatula under the pancake and flipped. It turned in the air, landing with a whisper. The underside was golden brown. .

Damien leaned against the counter, watching us with an expression I couldn’t quite read. His arms were crossed. Flour dusted his forearms, stark white against tan skin.

"What?" I glanced at him.

"Nothing." But his voice was soft. "Just... this. All of this."

"Pancakes?"

"Family." He said it quietly, like the word might shatter if spoken too loud. His eyes held mine. "This is what family feels like."

My chest tightened, the spatula felt heavy in my hand. "Damien"

"Mama, the bubbles!" Noah pointed urgently.

I flipped the pancake, perfectly golden. Steam rose from it, carrying the rich scent of caramelized butter. "See? That’s how it’s done."

"Daddy, Mama’s better at pancakes than you," Noah said matter-of-factly. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify