We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 163

Chapter 163

Cedar’s POV

froze when Aria called me “Mommy.”

My eyes darted immediately to the doorway where Ridley Sterling

stood, his imposing silhouette framed by the hallway’s recessed

lighting. The last thing I needed was for him to think I’d been

encouraging his daughter to call me that.

“Aria, sweetie,” I said gently, crouching to her level. “I’m Cedar,

remember? Not Mommy.”

“Mommy,” she repeated, her small voice surprisingly firm.

My heart fluttered with panic. I was about to try again when Ridley

strode into the room, his Italian leather shoes silent against the plush carpeting. My palms began to sweat. First Oliver had called me Mommy in secret, then Aiden had whispered it when no one else was listening, and now Aria was boldly declaring it to her father.

There was no way to explain this away.

To my surprise, Ridley didn’t even acknowledge me. Instead, he knelt

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directly in front of Aria, his tailored suit jacket stretching across his

broad shoulders as he lowered himself to her height.

“Aria, did you just speak?” His typically commanding voice held a note

of disbelief I’d never heard before.

I watched his expression transform. The infamous Ridley Sterling-

the man whose mere presence made boardroom executives tremble-

looked utterly stunned, his dark eyes wide with shock.

He gently placed his hands on Aria’s shoulders. “Sweetheart, can you

say that again for Daddy?”

The vulnerability in his request made my chest tighten. Aria’s

selective mutism had clearly been weighing on him heavily. If she was

speaking now, perhaps her condition was improving? But under her

father’s intense gaze, Aria went completely silent again.

“She might feel pressured,” I said softly, drawing Aria protectively

into my arms. “Aria, honey, look at my lips. Can you try saying

‘Daddy‘?”

“You are Mommy,” she declared instead, her voice even clearer this

time.

I nearly toppled backward. Of all the things for her to fixate on!

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“Aria,” I tried again, clearing my throat awkwardly, “your daddy is

right here with us…”

But she merely pressed her lips together and buried her face against

my shoulder, refusing to look at Ridley.

The tension in the room was palpable. I stood up with Aria in my

arms, trying desperately to salvage the situation.

“Mr. Sterling, she’s probably just expressing that she wants a mother

figure,” I explained, bouncing Aria gently. “Children often-”

“I’m not confused. You are Mommy,” Aria interrupted, her voice

muffled against my neck but perfectly audible.

I laughed nervously, feeling Ridley’s penetrating gaze. Was this child

deliberately trying to make this as uncomfortable as possible?

“It’s getting late,” I said, carrying Aria to her bed–a stunning custom piece with an architectural canopy that probably cost more than my

car. “How about a bedtime story?”

Aria’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically.

I sat on the edge of her bed, hyperaware of Ridley watching us from across the room. The soft glow from the Artemide bedside lamp cast

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