Chapter 448

Adrian set the envelope aside and studied Cassandra with calm precision. "Who are you? Why are in Uncle Nathaniel's office?"

His directness made Cassandra's stomach twist with guilt.

"I—"

The resemblance was undeniable. This boy had Nathaniel's piercing gaze and the same commanding presence that made people instinctively straighten their posture. He was undoubtedly a Blackwood.

"Adrian, I'm your mother's dear friend. You may call me Aunt Delacroix."

Cassandra softened her expression, taking slow steps toward him.

She was certain of one thing—this child belonged to Nathaniel. But the mother's identity remained unclear. With Nathaniel's status, countless women would kill to bear his heir. It might not be Isabella after all.

"You're Mommy's friend?"

Adrian's cherubic face scrunched in suspicion.

Mommy only ever mentioned Aunt Sophia. He'd never heard of any "Delacroix." But he recalled Aunt Sophia ranting about a viper named Cassandra—the woman who stole Daddy away.

Was this her?

"Absolutely. Your mother is Isabella, and you're Adrian, right? We've been inseparable for years. I even promised to be your godmother!"

Cassandra beamed, confident she could manipulate a four-year-old.

Adrian's dark eyes sparkled with sudden mischief. "Wow! Are you the famous Cassandra Delacroix Mommy talks about?"

Cassandra froze mid-step. "She... mentioned me?"

"Uh-huh! Mommy says Aunt Delacroix is the prettiest and kindest lady—even more than her!" Adrian hopped off the chair, arms outstretched. "And she was right! I like you so much!"

He barreled into her, wrapping small arms around her waist. Cassandra stiffened, thrown off balance.

'Isabella's spawn is hugging me? Claiming to adore me?'

That made zero sense. Their hatred was mutual and vicious. Isabella would never praise her, especially not to her child.

Something was off.

"Did... did your mother truly say those things?" Cassandra eyed the mop of dark hair pressed against her stomach.

Adrian tilted his head up, Nathaniel's exact eyes blinking innocently. "Yep! She said if I ever met you, I should hug you tight and never let go. That you'd take super good care of me."

Cassandra's lips parted soundlessly.

A war erupted inside her.

She loathed Isabella enough to watch her burn. By extension, she should despise this boy.

Yet those eyes—so much like Nathaniel's—made her traitorous heart waver. The maternal instincts she'd buried years ago stirred uncomfortably.

This child was disarmingly charming. And that terrified her.