Chapter 3
Bryan’s POV
I didn’t make plans for Jason to have a nanny before he was brought into my house. I stared at him in amazement, finding it very hard to believe that the boy in my arms is my flesh and blood. He looks handsome just like me and when I noticed the rashes on his skin, I cursed beneath my breath, blaming Celine for making my son look and feel like a pauper that he isn’t.
I have never thought of having a child again which is what led me to offer Celine a contract. My mother wanted me to be married and have a child but I was less interested in being a committed family man.
I didn’t want any more commitments because of my past and my realization that women are all the same, except of course my mother who has a golden heart.
I wanted to make her happy so I told Celine about my offer and she agreed immediately to my relief. I had been nursing the thoughts for a while even though it sounded ridiculous and I thought it will look stupid if I tell anyone about it.
Celine came for me at the right time and I decided to take advantage of her helplessness.
It was supposed to last for just a year, then we can go our separate ways but she left before then. I knew about the sex we had when we were drunk and I knew that was how Jason was conceived.
I know his name is Jason because of the rusty silver pendant I saw on his neck last night. I got home and asked the head maid to take care of him till I find a suitable nanny for him.
I could see the happiness on her face when she took Jason from me, I know it was because she knew instantly that he was my son but I doubt if she knows who the mother is.
I already told her to place the job vacancy out for any interested candidate capable of taking care of my son to come for an interview. I am going to make sure that Jason looks completely different in a week. He will no longer look like the pauper that his mother is, he will look like the billionaire’s son that he is.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
I yawn and get out of bed, after smiling sheepishly to myself for several minutes of thinking about Jason and how happy my mother would be when she gets to know about his existence.
After Celine left, it was my excuse to tell my mother that our marriage didn’t work.
Before Celine became my wife, anytime I tell my mother that I don’t want to be married, she always tells me to give it a try, even once.
She stopped disturbing me when Celine left without traces. But I know she will be happy, even though I still don’t know whether to tell her that Celine is the mother of my child.
I move into the bathroom lazily and take my bath. I usually get to work by 6 am so my alarm always wakes me up at 5:30 am. I finish taking my bath 10 minutes later and I begin to get dressed. I have an appointment with an Australia-based businessman at 8 am and I need to prepare my files and contract before he comes.
We were talking about a partnership with his steel manufacturing company the last time we met because of his financial problems and I weighed the pros and cons of partnering with a bankrupt company.
I finally gave him my reply last week after several months of thinking about it. I know I will benefit from the partnership more since he has agreed to make the revenue share 70%-30%. I will get the 70% since I will be funding the company from scratch while he takes the 30% and that is when the company is back at its peak.
I finish dressing and take my briefcase before checking my watch to see it is already 5:48 pm. I leave home early because of the distance which usually takes up to 30-40 minutes drive from home.
I stride out of my room and almost bump into Camila, the head maid in charge of the affairs of the house and now in charge of taking care of my son.
“Where are you rushing to?” I ask as I step back before she can bump into me.
“Sorry, sir. I came to inform you that Jason has been crying since 4 am that he has been awake.” She says with a bow.
“Crying? Pacify him then”, I wave her away, walking past her to go to work. I really don’t want to be delayed by anything.
“Sir”, she stops me, shaking tremendously like a cold leaf dancing on the tree. “Jason wouldn’t eat too. He is crying so hard and I am scared he will fall sick. I didn’t wake him up to eat last night because of how soundly he slept but when he woke up with a cry this morning, I thought he was hungry and prepared some food which he pushed away.” She explains.
“Pushed away?” I am amazed at her choice of words. How can a two-year-old child be stronger than a 50-year-old maid?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Find a way to make him stop crying then”, I say with irritation.
I signal to her to stop talking with my hand as I walk to the door. I am about to go out when I hear a loud yell, making me turn back abruptly to see where the sound disturbing the calmness of the house is coming from.
“It’s Jason”, Camila points to the other maid bringing the crying boy into the living room. Jason is struggling to get out of her hold.
“What the hell!” I hurry back into the house. The maid, Leila moves closer to me and when he sees me, he falls silent.
“Jason, why are you crying?” I ask him in a soft voice. I don’t want him to know I am angry so he won’t be scared of me.
“Mommy”, he murmurs and begins to cry again.
“It’s ok, baby”, I throw my briefcase to the nearest armchair and take him from Leila.
“I want mommy”, he keeps saying while crying.
“You want mommy?” I ask back and he nods. “Alright, I will go and bring your mommy now, ok?” He nods again.
“But promise me you will eat and stop crying”, I say but he is silent. “Jason, will you eat?”
“I want mommy”, he burst into fresh tears and I sigh heavily, looking over at Leila and Camila who have a pitiful look on their faces. I never thought of the efforts that come with harboring a child. I thought having him close to a woman who is mother-like to him will make it less difficult.
“I will go and bring mommy, now. Don’t cry again”, I say, trying so hard to control my anger.
What sort of stubborn child is this?
“Will you?” He ask me with doubtful eyes.
“Yes, I will. Now go and eat and stop crying, ok?”
He nods as I hand him over to Camila. I pick up my briefcase and exhale deeply before turning to the door.
“Bye-bye, daddy”, I hear him say as I walk out to meet my driver.
So much for being a single father, I muse to myself.