The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 233

"Felix! Look what I brought!"

With Simon, you always heard his voice before you saw the person.

He rushed in carrying two boxes that were half as tall as a person.

Although he had long since retired from modeling to work behind the scenes as an executive at Winston's talent agency, his dramatic personality hadn't changed a bit.

"Where is he? Felix, my boy, come welcome me!"

Simon dropped the two limited-edition Transformer sets onto the carpet and spread his arms, ready to scoop up the small figure sitting there.

A little boy in a white t-shirt was lying on the living room floor. He snapped the final Lego brick into place before looking up.

Even after more than three years, Simon's heart still skipped a beat when he met those eyes.

The face looked more like Rhys every day, especially those eyes—dark, deep, and seemingly cold when he wasn't smiling.

Fortunately, while Felix looked cool, his smile was warm, much more like Clara's.

In the beginning, Clara would zone out when looking at his face. Over time, those old shadows were washed away and covered by the child's repeated calls of "Mama."

The little guy looked at the boxes and spoke in a sweet voice, "Daddy Simon, you already bought this one."

Simon paused. "Huh? I... I did?"

Felix climbed up from the carpet, walked over to Simon on his short legs, and looked up at him. "I know you're busy, but if your memory is bad, you can ask Daddy Noah to take you to the hospital."

Devastated, Simon clutched his chest and collapsed onto the sofa, pointing an accusing finger at the brat who was already tearing into the packaging of a new toy. "Clara! Control your son! Who does he take after?!"

Clara was helping Alex verify the product selection list for the next quarter and replied absentmindedly, "He takes after you. You are the company you keep."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Heartless. All my love, wasted."

Clara nudged his calf with her foot. "Noah is in the kitchen. Go give him a hand; I need to finish this."

Hearing this, Simon lay flatter on the couch, refusing to move.

The adult wouldn't budge, but the little one was eager.

Pushing aside the half-opened box, Felix pattered toward the kitchen, peeking his small head around the doorframe.

"Daddy Noah."

Noah turned to look at him, his eyes warm. "What is it? Hungry?"

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