We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 168

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We Want Mommy, Not You, Daddy!

Chapter 168

Cedar’s POV

I was this close to freedom when Oliver materialized out of nowhere,

latching onto my free hand with the determination of a tiny koala

bear.

“Mommy! I have tennis class today. Will you come with me?” His

bottom lip trembled in that practiced way all children perfect by age

four. “I haven’t played in ages and I forgot how to hold the racket! My

coach is going to be so upset.” His eyes grew impossibly wide. “Please

come? Pretty please?”

Great. Just great. So much for my stealthy exit strategy. I’d

specifically chosen this ungodly hour to avoid exactly this scenario.

“Sweetheart,” I knelt down, using my gentlest voice, “I have to go to

work. Important grown–up stuff,” I brushed his messy hair away from

his forehead. “You’ll be amazing at tennis. Just listen to your coach,

okay?”

Oliver wasn’t giving up that easily. “But you promised you’d protect

me.” His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “I’m really scared. Just

for a little while? Please?”

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Chapter 168

This kid could give Hollywood actors lessons in emotional

manipulation. I was wavering–those damn puppy eyes were my

kryptonite–when Aiden’s cool voice sliced through the moment.

“Oliver, release her hand.” No six–year–old should sound that

authoritative. “Ms. Wright has a critical client meeting today. If she

misses it, Father might terminate her employment. Is that what you

want?”

Oliver’s grip instantly slackened. The mention of his father worked

like magic.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed with all the resignation of someone being sent

to the gallows rather than luxury tennis lessons. “I’ll be super good. The best boy ever in the history of boys.”

I bit back a laugh. These Sterling children were something else.

“I really need to go now,” I said, giving each child a quick head ruffle. “Call if you need anything.” But please–try not to need anything.

As I turned toward the staircase, the chorus of “Good morning, Mrs.

Sterling” from downstairs froze me mid–step.

Oh. My. God.

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Chapter 168

Rachel Sterling was back. If she saw me here at this hour, wearing

wrinkled clothes, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out I’d spent the

night. There was absolutely no professional explanation for that.

I spun around, planning to retreat to the guest room, but found it was

too late.

Panic climbed up my throat as Rachel’s elegant footsteps ascended

the stairs. Our eyes met, and I watched her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rise fractionally–the Sterling equivalent of jaw–dropping

shock.

I forced my face into an awkward smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Sterling!

Lovely day, isn’t it?”

The children, bless their manipulative little hearts, broke the excruciating silence with enthusiastic greetings.

“Grandmother! You’re here!”

“Did you bring me anything?”

Rachel’s stern expression softened slightly. “You two, go brush your teeth. Is Aria awake? Tell her breakfast is ready.” Her eyes never left

my face. “Ms. Wright, join me for coffee in the garden.”

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Chapter 168

It wasn’t a request.

Oliver, sensing my impending doom, tightened his grip. “Can I have

coffee too? I’ll be super quiet!”

Rachel leveled him with a look that would wither plants. “You’re six.

Go wash up.”

I squeezed Oliver’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. Go on, sweetie.”

As the children reluctantly released me, I followed Rachel downstairs,

mentally drafting my resignation letter with every step.

Rachel’s POV

I led the way to the garden, pleased that at least the girl followed

without protest. I despise women who act coy and fragile–it’s both

exhausting and transparent.

The morning sun filtered through the maples, casting dappled

shadows across our private breakfast nook. A maid silently delivered

two porcelain cups of espresso–mine black, Cedar’s with a touch of

cream.

I studied her as she took a tentative sip. She was pretty in an unconventional way–not the carefully crafted beauty of society

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Chapter 168

women, but something fresher. Her posture betrayed her nerves, yet

she met my gaze directly. Interesting.

“The coffee is perfect,” she said, clearly attempting to fill the silence.

“Thank you for inviting me to join you.”

“Ms. Wright,” I began, watching her carefully. “Do you know why I

wanted to speak with you?”

The weight of my gaze has made hardened CEOs squirm. Thirty years

as the Sterling matriarch teaches one the power of a well–placed

silence. To her credit, Cedar only straightened her shoulders slightly.

“I imagine you’ll tell me directly,” she replied after another sip. “You

don’t strike me as someone who appreciates unnecessary preamble.”

I almost smiled. Perhaps the girl had more backbone than I’d initially

credited her with.

“I haven’t properly thanked you for what happened at my birthday

celebration,” I said, placing my cup down with a soft clink. “Daisy was

with our family for a decade. I trusted her completely.”

Cedar’s expression shifted at the mention of Daisy, her professional mask slipping to reveal genuine concern.

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Chapter 168

“I never imagined she would terrorize Aria,” I continued. “If you

hadn’t exposed her, who knows how long it might have continued.”

Cedar leaned forward slightly. “Have you discovered what Daisy used

to threaten Aria with? What was so terrifying that a child would

endure such treatment without telling her family?”

My estimation of Cedar rose several notches. Not the question of an

opportunist.

–

“Two years ago,” I said, the words still bitter on my tongue, “Daisy

killed a kitten Aria had rescued. She threatened to harm others-

people Aria loved–if the child didn’t comply with her demands.” The

memory made my hands want to tremble, but I’d mastered control

decades ago. “A six–year–old, believing she was protecting her family

by suffering in silence.”

Cedar’s expression darkened. “That’s monstrous.”

“It was my failure,” I admitted. “I brought that woman into our home.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Cedar said with surprising gentleness. “No

one suspects that kind of evil in their midst until it reveals itself.”

“Daisy has been permanently removed from Chicago,” I said firmly. “She will never approach any Sterling again.”

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I studied Cedar over the rim of my cup. I’d come here to warn her

against using the children to further whatever ambitions she

harbored toward my son or his fortune. But watching her genuine

distress over Aria’s suffering, I reconsidered my approach.

“Ms. Wright, are you available this evening?”

Her expression registered surprise, then wariness. “May I ask why?”

“There’s a charity auction at the Art Institute. I’d like you to

accompany me.”

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