Chapter 51

Chapter 51
 “You’ll let me call you daddy again”

“I didn’t say you weren’t allowed to before though”, Aston cocked his head to the side. It seemed like that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. The boy stood still, resolutely looking at him.

Aston liked the kid.

He was a smart little shit.

He was also from Aria. He liked everything from Aria.

“You can call me daddy again.”

The boy nodded like a soldier and raised his hands, signaling for Aston to carry him.

Now that Aston thought about it, he hadn’t ever lifted the boy. He hooked his hands under Asher’s arms and carried him first to his chest.

He smelled soft and pure. Like a freshly bathed child should. He could smell hints of whatever floral thing he always smelled on Aria around the middle of Asher’s head and he gave in to temptation and sniffed.

“Ugh. You’re also weird like mommy,” Asher said, leaning his sleepy head on Aston’s chest.

Aston subconsciously held on to his little head, moving to sit on the seat he couldn’t reach, with Asher in his lap instead of sitting on his own.

“I suppose you just have that effect on everybody,” Aston murmured. A little snicker was let loose from the boy comfortably sitting in his lap with his arms on the kitchen island.

“Mommy, soup please. I’m falling back asleep with daddy’s lies.”

Aston almost spluttered. Aria spluttered for him, laughing so hard she had to double down to catch her breath. “Don’t kill me, Asher!” She laughed, bringing two bowls in front of Aston.

One bowl had little soup, that was clearly for the boy, he splayed his left hand across his back to support him so they could both eat.

His heart itched, but he couldn’t scratch it. He had a feeling only Aria could.

She cooked for him, she specifically stood up to take care of him. Aston Beaumont was a monster. He didn’t get taken care of. But she decided to anyway.

Asher was bouncing in his lap as he grabbed the bowl and brought it directly to his mouth, spoon forgotten. 

“Don’t spill anything! Eat like a normal person!” She chided, snatching the bowl from the boy expertly before a drop could spill.

“But mommy…” he whined

“No. Eat like your daddy!”

Aston debated his options, and then brought the bowl to his mouth too. Aria’s mouth fell open, betrayal in her gaze, but a smile on her lips.

Asher gave a fist pump and continued his bowl drinking. 

Aston liked this look on Aria. She’d never directed it to him before, the playful look of “how dare you”. He wanted to see how many more he could unlock, he wanted to see if he could one day unlock her heart too. 

He was selfish. Sue him.

Not even ten minutes later, Aston watched the boy's eyelids flutter shut, his small breaths evening out against his ribs.

Aria had her hands on the table, looking at Asher with a soft gaze, and in turn looking at Aston with a soft gaze. A plan smoothly fleshed out in Aston’s head. 

A new primary objective.

He looked at Aria, who was still watching him with that wide-eyed, vulnerable expression, an expression he wasn’t sure he wasn’t returning.

Good, he thought.

Stay right there.

"He's out," Aston said, his voice returning to its usual smooth, baritone clip. No more rasp. Thanks to her bewitching soup. 

He effortlessly shifted the boy's weight, standing up with the kind of fluid grace that proved he could still kill a man with a ballpoint pen if he felt like it. "The soup was quite... adequate."

Aria snorted, the tension breaking. "Adequate? You almost ate the bowl, Aston."

"I was hungry," he countered simply, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "And since l've been appointed

'Daddy' by the highest authority in the house, l suppose I'll be taking him up. It'll save your back from the strain."

He didn't wait for her permission. He headed for the stairs, the child tucked securely against his shoulder, his weight so tiny against Aston. How could humans be this small?

As he walked, his mind was already cataloging the next few weeks. If the boy liked "Daddy," then "Daddy" would be around. He'd take him to the gardens. He'd buy him whatever toy required the most assembly.

He'd be so integrated into the kid's life that Aria wouldn't be able to look at her own son without seeing

Aston's influence.

It was shamelessly manipulative, and he felt zero guilt about it.

He reached the boy’s room, laying Asher down with clinical precision, his actions gentle enough not to wake him. He tucked the blanket up to the boy's chin, lingering for just a second too long to be considered 'detached.'

"Smart move, kid," he whispered into the dark room.

"Pick the biggest monster in the room to like you.

You really are a Griffin."

When he walked back out, Aria was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe. She looked tired, but the usual wariness he usually provoked in her eyes had shifted into something else — something that looked dangerously like trust.

Aston felt a surge of triumph that felt better than any drug, than any takeover he’d done, any mission he’d completed.

“Go to bed, my lady,” he said, pausing as he passed her. He didn’t touch her, he knew better than to overplay his hand that night. He was certain he had used up all the luck in his lifetime in a single day. He still leaned in though, relishing in how she had to look up at him, relishing in the fresh smell of her hair. “Tomorrow we’ll discuss our mission with Mr. Vane. And maybe what else you can cook.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway before he did something untimely and stupid like kissing her swollen little mouth again.

She needed a prince, but he didn’t need to be a prince. He just needed to be the man she couldn’t imagine living without. 

Aston was nothing if not patient.