We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Ridley’s POV

I stepped into the hallway, immediately sensing the tension. Cedar stood with rigid posture while Daisy appeared on the verge of tears–a performance id

seen too many times.

The theatrics were exhausting. Daisy’s tears, her claims about being blocked from my office, the desperate plea about Aria’s condition

What surprised me was Cedar’s response. Her cool observation about Daisy’s lack of backbone and presumptuous aspirations cut straight through the manipulation. When Daisy stammered denials about joining the Sterling family, Cedar’s subtle sarcasm was almost… refreshing.

“Enough,” I cut through Daisy’s panicked explanations. ‘Is this the extent of the Black family’s etiquette training?”

The hatred in Daisy’s eyes when she glanced at Cedar was unmistakable, though she quickly masked it with practiced contrition. Another performance,

another manipulation.

I nodded toward my office, watching as Daisy threw Cedar one last venomous look before following me inside.

Daisy sat across from me, her expression a mask of concern. “Ridley, Aria’s been struggling terribly. She used to at least spend time in the garden, but lately she won’t even leave her studio. No matter how I try to coax her, she refuses to listen. I’m worried she’ll make herself ill.”

Tears slid down her cheeks again. The display irritated me. I was Aria’s father, yet I maintained my composure. What right did she have to this performance

of grief?

I looked away. “What does Aria do in her studio all day?”

“She dances and draws, endlessly. Picture after picture of that day at Navy Pier.” Daisy dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. ‘I thought she wanted to return there, but when I offer to take her, she ignores me. I consulted her doctor again, and he repeated his usual advice–she needs more family

time.”

She moved forward, kneeling before me. Her brown eyes shimmered with tears, her posture deliberately showcasing her décolletage in the low–cut dress.

‘Ridley, you only visit the apartment once a week, and never for more than two hours. That’s not enough for Aria’s recovery.” She reached for my hand. “Could you possibly visit twice weekly? Seeing you more often would surely improve her condition.”

“Mind your behavior,” I said coldly.

Daisy’s hand jerked away. “I’m sorry, Ridley. I’m just so worried about Aria. It wasn’t intentional… I got carried away.”

I have no plans to find Aria a stepmother, Ms. Black. Your efforts in that direction are unnecessary.”

Her face paled further. “Ridley, please believe me. I never thought about becoming Aria’s stepmother. Don’t listen to what that woman said!”

“Enough. I don’t want to discuss this further,” I said, feeling a headache forming behind my eyes. “Starting next week, bring Aria to the office every Wednesday afternoon.”

Daisy looked up in surprise. “To the office? Aria gets anxious in crowded places. She’ll be frightened.”

‘Frightened or not, she needs to come. She must learn to face these situations.”

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9:33 pm ppp м

Chapter 90

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the weight of responsibility. I needed to prepare all three of my children for their futores–especially Aria, with her

unique challenges.

Three whole years of therapy with no improvement whatsoever.

Perhaps it was time for a different approach.

If anything happened to me, who would protect her?

Daisy’s POV

I straightened my posture the moment I heard movement from inside Ridley’s office. Quickly checking my reflection in my compact mirror, I adjusted a stray hair and prepared my most enchanting smile. After all, one never knows when an opportunity to make an impression might arise.

As the door opened, I stepped forward with practiced grace, only to freeze mid–stride.

“You?!”

My pupils contracted sharply as recognition hit. Standing before me was the same woman I’d encountered at Navy Pier with Aria. This couldn’t be

happening.

She was supposed to be a nobody–a random stranger I’d never see again. Yet here she was, emerging from Ridley’s private office like she belonged there.

I’d been waiting outside for over an hour while this… this interloper had been alone with Ridley. My mind raced with unpleasant possibilities.

The confrontation escalated quickly. When she mentioned “auditioning to be someone’s stepmother,” my face burned with humiliation. That day at Navy Pier, being stared at by strangers, was the most mortifying experience of my life. And now this nobody was bringing it up, slapping me across the face with my own embarrassment.

The Black family name might not carry the weight it once did, but I was still Daisy Black, respected throughout Chicago’s North Shore. Who was she to speak to me this way?

I raised my hand, ready to deliver the slap she deserved, when footsteps approached from behind. My arm dropped instantly as I turned, forcing tears to well

in my eyes.

‘Ridley…” I let his name hang in the air, my voice deliberately vulnerable.

When I finally had the chance to talk with Ridley, he seemed more indifferent to me than before, even directly stating that he would never marry me. Was it because of this woman? But I wouldn’t give up. All these years of effort had to pay off eventually. After enduring so much humiliation already, what was a little more? I swallowed my bitterness, maintaining my fragile facade as I used Aria’s condition as an excuse to secure some private time with him.

I had hoped he would visit Aria at the apartment more often–creating opportunities for us to grow closer–but instead, he suggested I bring Aria to the company! That way, I still wouldn’t get any private time with him.

“If it’s inconvenient for you,” Ridley said slowly, “I can arrange for someone else to bring Aria to the office.”

*Convenient? Of course it’s convenient,” I responded immediately. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than being cut out completely.

Bringing Aria to the company weekly meant more chances to spend time with Ridley. If I seized every opportunity, someday he would surely recognize my worth. I believed this with absolute conviction…

Leaving the CEO’s office, I paused at the doorway to the secretarial department. An assistant quickly approached to greet me.

I asked casually, “That woman who just met with your CEO about work–who is she?”

That’s Director Wright from Nest Design’s interior design department.”

I smiled coldly to myself.

A mere director from a subsidiary company, yet she dared to set her sights on the CEO?

Dream on.

Standing in the hallway, I slowly dialed a number: “I want all information on that woman sent to my inbox within three days…”

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