In a sprawling, opulent mansion nestled in one of the city's most exclusive districts, the grand front doors swung open with a quiet whoosh. A woman in her late forties, elegant and regal in a designer coat, stepped into the foyer, immediately greeted by the eager patter of small feet.
"Grandma! Grandma, you're back!" came the joyful voice of a child.
A little boy no older than five dashed toward her with arms wide open. The woman's face lit up with pure delight. She scooped him up effortlessly, planting a series of kisses on his chubby cheeks. Her voice brimmed with warmth as she cooed, "Yes, sweetheart. Grandma is back. Have you been a good boy today? You didn't cause any trouble for your nanny while I was out, did you?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically, his soft curls bouncing with the motion. "Jamie is a good boy," he said, puffing his chest out with pride.
If Axel had been present in that grand hall, he would have instantly recognized the woman. She was the very same woman he had saved from a speeding car just hours ago.
The woman, Dayonna, lowered Jamie gently to the floor. "Alright, baby. Go play now. Grandma has a few things to take care of."
Jamie had already turned to leave when he paused, his small face scrunching up with worry. He turned back to her, his eyes big and round. "Grandma... when is Daddy coming home? I miss him."
Dayonna's smile faltered for a brief second, but she quickly masked it and crouched to his level. Her fingers gently stroked his hair. "Your daddy will be home soon, okay?"
Jamie pouted, unconvinced. "You said soon last week too. When is 'soon'?"
Dayonna chuckled softly and cupped his cheeks. "How about this? I can't promise, but I'll try to bring Daddy back home by tomorrow. He's just very busy right now."
Jamie opened his mouth as if ready to protest again but ultimately nodded, clearly not satisfied but choosing to believe her. He trudged away to play while Dayonna exhaled a deep sigh of relief, grateful to have avoided a tantrum.
Once he disappeared into one of the mansion's many rooms, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
...
At the Draxler Corporation's headquarters, Jayvaughn sat behind a sleek glass desk, leafing through a thick file the manager of the Planning Department had just handed him. His expression was unreadable, but the beads of sweat gathering on the manager's forehead revealed how tense the room had become.
Jayvaughn's sharp eyes caught yet another oversight in the figures presented. He was just about to hand the document back with an instruction to redo it—and perhaps an earful to go with it—when his phone buzzed insistently.
Seeing the caller ID, Jayvaughn gestured for the manager to leave. The man all but bolted from the room, clearly relieved to have been spared.
Jayvaughn answered the call.
"You finally decided to pick up," his mother's voice rang through, laced with mock outrage. "Am I still your mother, or do I need to make an appointment to speak to my own son?"
Jayvaughn pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mom, I'm at the office. I was busy."
"Busy?" Dayonna huffed. "Do you know your mother almost died today? I was nearly run over by a car."
Jayvaughn immediately straightened in his chair, the irritation draining from his voice. "What? Are you okay? What happened?"
Her tone softened at the concern in his voice. "I'm alright now. A young man saved me. Such a sweet boy. And handsome, too. So polite. And, oh my goodness, he looked like one of those gorgeous boys in those BL dramas I like to watch. Maybe I've even seen him in one. He looked so familiar!"
Jayvaughn's worry ebbed slightly, replaced by resignation. His mother was fine if she had the energy to fangirl over some stranger. "Mom, I'm really glad you're okay. But I have to finish something at work. We can talk more when I get home."
"Oh, so now you think I'm talking too much?" she said with mock hurt. But before he could respond, she added in a quieter, more serious tone, "That wasn't the only reason I called. Your son misses you, Jayvaughn. He asked about you again today. He's only five. He needs his father."
Jayvaughn's jaw clenched.
"I know you're busy," she continued. "With the company, with the boy band thing—I've never interfered with your choices. But Jamie is your son. He needs more than video calls. He needs time with you. A sense of presence. Stability. That's why I keep telling you to consider marriage again, even if it's just for Jamie's sake—"
"Mom," Jayvaughn interrupted, his tone firm. "I'll stop by the mansion tonight after work, alright? We'll talk then."
Without waiting for her reply, he ended the call, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh.
He stared out the large window overlooking the city, thoughts swirling. Jamie. It had been weeks since he'd last seen his son in person. The guilt tugged at his chest more forcefully than he liked to admit.
His eyes drifted to the photo frame on his desk—a rare candid shot of Jamie from his third birthday, cake smeared across his cheeks, smiling up at the camera. Jayvaughn reached for the frame, running his thumb across the glass.
"I'll be there tonight, Jamie," he whispered under his breath.