Chapter 249

Chapter 249

Meanwhile, outside Dusk Bar, the cold wind whipped harder.

Gerald had one arm around Claire, half-supporting, half-dragging her to the Rolls-Royce parked at the curb.

The driver pulled the door open from inside. A faint scent of cedar and a wave of warmth spilled out.

"Gerald..."

Claire melted against his chest, both hands fisting the lapels of his suit, refusing to let go.

She tilted her flushed face up, tears pooling in her eyes. "Take me home? We haven't been alone together in so long. Just tonight—stay with me, please?"

Her voice was pinched and trembling, tears falling prettily.

But deep in Gerald's eyes, a flicker of impatience passed. His gaze drifted involuntarily toward the flow of traffic.

Sophia had just left. Like that. Without a single word.

"Claire, behave. Stop this."

Gerald drew a deep breath and lifted his hand, patting her shoulder stiffly.

"Milo's waiting for me at home. He had a scare today—he needs me there."

At the name 'Milo,' Claire's body went rigid for an instant. Something venomous flashed in the depths of her eyes.

That little bastard again.

Always in the way.

"I'll have the driver take you home. Text me when you arrive. Don't worry."

Gerald gave her no chance to cling further. He guided her firmly into the back seat.

The door shut without mercy.

Claire lowered the window, mouth open to call after him—but Gerald had already turned away, striding toward the SUV his security team had brought.

The window rose slowly, sealing Claire's subtly contorted face behind tinted glass.

She sat in the back seat, sobered by half, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

She was seething.

Four years she'd devoted to Gerald. Even with Sophia gone for all that time, this man's heart had stayed walled off from her.

Now that Sophia was back, he wouldn't even spare her a glance.

But she couldn't give up.

Claire closed her eyes, and Hazel's parting instructions surfaced in her mind.

"Claire, Gerald values bloodline and duty above all else. If you want to secure your place as Mrs. Churchill, you need to get that child attached to you."

"As long as the boy can't live without you, Gerald will never abandon you. Be good to him—even better than his real mother would be."

Claire opened her eyes. The wild desperation faded, replaced by a carefully manufactured warmth.

Yes. The child.

Win over Milo, and Gerald would eventually see her worth.

"Tomorrow..."

Claire inhaled slowly, murmuring to herself. "Tomorrow I'll bring Milo's favorite LEGO sets to the Churchill villa. He's just a kid. A little spoiling and he'll come around."

---

The next morning.

Claire arrived at the Churchill villa in a carefully chosen white knit dress, carrying several boxes of the latest limited-edition LEGO sets.

"Ms. Douglas? I wasn't expecting you—let me inform Mr. Churchill—"

Nia Bishop, dusting near the foyer, looked startled when she saw Claire and moved to head inside.

"No need, Nia."

Claire maintained her smile. "Gerald and Milo are in the living room, right? I'll go in myself. It's a surprise—don't say anything."

Nia opened her mouth but didn't dare object. She stepped aside.

Claire raised an eyebrow and glided silently toward the main living room.

But before she reached the corner past the foyer, an excited child's voice rang out from inside.

Claire instinctively slowed her steps and pressed herself behind the decorative screen.

In the living room.

Milo sat cross-legged on the leather sofa, carefully cradling a delicate velvet jewelry box in both hands.

The box was open. Inside lay a diamond necklace.

"Daddy! Look at this one—isn't it pretty?"

Milo's dark eyes sparkled, his small face flushed with excitement.

"Milo picked this one specially for Mommy! Daddy, when you see Mommy, you have to put it on her yourself, okay? Promise!"

Gerald sat beside Milo, reaching over to ruffle the boy's soft hair with his large hand.

"Okay. Daddy promises. I'll put it on her myself."

Behind the screen, Claire's heart slammed against her ribs.

A necklace? For Mommy?

Put it on her himself?

Was it for her?

Did Milo secretly call her 'Mommy'?

In the Churchill villa, over these four years, Milo had never once called her that.

But publicly, everyone knew Claire was Gerald's only fiancée.

Gerald was going to put a necklace on her himself?

Was he using Milo as a way to propose—or finally give her a title?

Overwhelming joy flooded Claire's mind.

Her face bloomed with shy delight. She smoothed her skirt and was about to walk in, LEGO boxes in hand—

But before she could take a single step, Milo's clear voice piped up again.

"Oh, and one more thing!"

Milo turned the necklace over in his small fingers, looking up at Gerald with deadly seriousness.

"Daddy, you absolutely have to remember—buy Mommy a bouquet of pink flowers. Wait, no—pink is Mommy's favorite color, so don't get it wrong!"

"Also, Daddy, Milo thinks it sounds really weird when you call Mommy 'Ms. Percy.' It's way too formal."

Milo furrowed his little brow like a tiny adult, tugging on Gerald's arm. "You should call her 'Mattie,' or 'Tilda.' That's what a real family sounds like!"

Gerald listened to Milo's rapid-fire demands. When those sickeningly sweet nicknames came up, a look of genuine discomfort crossed his face.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to negotiate. "Milo, how about a different name? Just her first name, or... can I just not—"

"No!"

Milo's eyes—those beautiful almond-shaped eyes so like Sophia's—went impossibly wide.

His lower lip quivered, tears threatening. "Does Daddy not love Mommy anymore? If you don't call her that, she'll think you're not serious, and then she'll leave us again! Are you gonna do it or not? If you don't, Milo's gonna cry right now!"

Gerald—the man who didn't so much as flinch when rival corporations came for his throat—crumbled completely under Milo's tear offensive.

He sighed in defeat. "Fine... Daddy promises. I'll call her that."

Behind the screen, Claire stood frozen. Struck by lightning.

It wasn't for her.

The necklace. The pink flowers. Those nauseating pet names.

All of it was for Sophia.

And what terrified her even more, what sent rage boiling through her veins—Milo was calling Sophia 'Mommy.'