We Want Mommy Not You Daddy (Cedar) novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93

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Ridley’s POV

After a long day at Sterling Design Group, I guided Aiden through his analysis of a project. Despite being only six, his grasp of spatial

relationships continued to astound me. His methodical approach reminded me of myself at a much older age.

“Your assessment is sound,” I told him, watching satisfaction briefly illuminate his serious expression. “The proportions need adjustment, but

you’ve identified the critical flaws.”

Aiden nodded, carefully organizing his notes. “The ceiling height creates imbalance.”

“Precisely.” I checked my watch. “It’s late. Dinner?”

“Yes, Father. Always polite, always measured. Sometimes I worried about the weight of expectation on those small shoulders.

We took my Aston Martin, driving along Michigan Avenue. The city lights reflected off Lake Michigan, creating the illusion of stars falling into

darkness. Aiden sat quietly beside me, his gaze taking in everything with characteristic intensity.

“There’s a new restaurant on Oak Street,‘ I mentioned, spotting an elegant façade with subdued lighting. “Mediterranean fusion. Acceptable?”

“I’d like to try it,” he replied, his formality never wavering.

The maître d‘ recognized me immediately, his professional smile widening as he led us toward a secluded corner booth. Halfway across the dining room, I noticed Aiden’s attention fixed elsewhere, his usual composure briefly fractured by interest. Following his gaze, I saw a familiar

profile framed by golden hair.

Cedar Wright.

Something inexplicable pulled me toward her table. Perhaps curiosity. Perhaps confusion at her continued appearances in my life. Whatever it was, I found myself changing direction, Aiden following silently beside me

“Cedar?”

She looked up, startled. But it wasn’t her surprise that froze the blood in my veins. It was the child sitting across from her–Aria. My daughter.

My silent, withdrawn daughter who barely tolerated the presence of strangers.

“Miss Wright,” Aiden greeted her formally, though I caught the subtle warmth in his eyes before they darted to his sister.

Cedar straightened, visibly disoriented. “Mr. Sterling, Aiden. What a surprise.”

I barely registered her words. My focus remained on Aria, who had gone completely still, her pencil suspended above her sketchpad. My

daughter, who refused to attend social gatherings, who communicated primarily through her art, was sitting comfortably in a public restaurant

with Cedar Wright.

“Aria,” I said, keeping my voice carefully controlled despite the alarm bells ringing in my mind. “What are you doing here with Miss Wright?”

Cedar’s eyes widened, darting between Aria and me. I watched realization dawn on her face as she noted our similar features.

“Mr. Sterling,” she began, clearly struggling. “I ran into Aria at an upscale boutique nearby. Her… caretaker had left her alone, so I offered to

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11:15 Mon Feb 2 DBB.

Chapter 93

buy her dinner while waiting.

“Her caretaker, I repeated, rage simmering beneath my controlled exterYou mean Dalay

She just nodded slightly

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My jaw tightened involuntarily. Another failure in judgment from Daisy. Eped she would have a good reason for that. I see.’ I turned to Aria,

softening my tone. Are you alrigh

To my astonishment, Aria nodded and gestured toward Cedar, then to her sketchbook. Not just comfortable she was communicating, in her

way

She’s been drawing, Cedar explained. “She’s very talented.”

Aiden stepped closer to examine Aria’s sketchbook, his movements delibete and controlled. “This is quite accurate, he observed. “You’ve captured Miss Wright’s features precisely.”

My mind raced, connecting impossible dots. Cedar Wright had somehow independently encountered each of my children. First Aiden at her interview. Then Aria. The statistical improbability was staggering.

“First my eldest son,” I said in a voice only Cedar could hear. “Now my younger daughter. Quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you say, Miss Wright?

Shock registered on her face. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, genuine confusion in her

eyes.

“Don’t you?” The accusation in my tone was unmistakable. “First, you somehow form a connection with Aiden. Then I find you with Aria, who hasn’t willingly spent time with anyone but her therapist in three years, yet seems perfectly comfortable with you. What move will you take to

win my other son over?”

“Aria was your daughter?” she repeated numbly. “You have three kids…”

Is that what your investigation told you? Don’t play dumb,” I said, never breaking eye contact. “Now, perhaps you’d like to explain what game you’re playing?”

I watched emotions cascade across her face–shock, confusion, disbelief. Ether she was an exceptional actress, or she genuinely had no idea.

“I’m not playing any game,” she finally managed, her voice barely audible. didn’t even know you had three children until now.”

I considered her words, weighing probabilities. The likelihood of these encounters being purely coincidental was minuscule. Yet her confusion seemed genuine, and more significantly, two of my children had responded to her. That alone was unprecedented.

“Perhaps,” I said after a calculating pause, “we should all sit down and clear up some apparent misunderstandings.”

It wasn’t a request. To my surprise, she nodded, looking almost relieved.

Throughout the meal, I studied Cedar when she was occupied with the children. There was no calculation in her interactions, no agenda I could discern. She responded to each child as an individual, adapting naturally their different needs Aiden’s formality, Aria’s silence. It was… unsettling how seamlessly she fit.

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Chapter 93

As dessert arrived–chocolate gelato for the children–I leaned slightly toward her.

“Whatever is happening here,” I said quietly, “I expect your absolute discretion. The existence of all three of my children is not public

knowledge.

She nodded, understanding immediately. “Of course.”

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Just as the children finished their dessert, commotion erupted at the restaurant entrance. Daisy Black stood there, face flushed, eyes scanning frantically. When she spotted our table, she rushed over, her practiced concern so transparent it set my teeth on edge.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed, her voice artificially high. “Aria, sweetie, I was so worried! I just went to the ladies‘ room, and when I

came back, you were gone!”

I regarded her with frigid silence, cataloging this latest failure alongside her previous ones.

“The security guard said you left over an hour ago,” Cedar said quietly. “For drinks at the Bellevue Club.”

Daisy’s face flushed deeper. “That’s ridiculous! I would never leave Aria alone! He must be confused-

‘Enough, I cut her off, my patience exhausted. “We’ll discuss this later, Ms Black.” I turned to Henderson, who had approached the table. Please escort Miss Black home.”

Aria’s face fell, and she clutched her sketchbook tighter.

“It’s late,” I explained gently to her. “We’ll take you back home. Don’t be afraid, your room is just next to Aiden’s.”

As we led Aria away, she turned back once, her eyes meeting Cedar’s in a silent goodbye. Cedar smiled encouragingly, a genuine warmth in her expression that even I couldn’t dismiss as fabricated.

On the way back, I considered the improbable sequence of events that had connected Cedar Wright to my children–and what it might mean for all of us going forward. One thing was certain: Cedar Wright was either the most remarkable coincidence in my life, or something far more complicated. Either way, I couldn’t afford to let her go just yet.

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