Chapter 4

Alice’s POV

As my mother and I stepped out of the sergeant’s office, I let out a long breath. Relief washed over me—she was finally free. But even though she was free, a heavy weight still pressed against my chest.

I just made a deal with the devil.

Mr. Andrew Walker.

A man who had no sympathy, no patience, and no heart.

I shook the thought away as we walked down the hallway. That’s when I noticed a small boy sitting on the floor, his tiny body trembling as he sobbed quietly.

My heart clenched.

Where were his parents?

"Mom, you go ahead to the car. I’ll catch up in a minute," I told her.

She gave me a curious glance but nodded. "Okay, sweetheart. Don’t take too long."

As she walked away, I approached the little boy and knelt beside him.

"Hey there," I said gently. "Are you okay?"

The boy sniffled, his head snapping up at the sound of my voice. His big blue eyes, still glassy with tears, met mine. He looked around five or six years old, and his small hands clutched a tiny toy car.

But he didn’t answer me. Instead, he lowered his gaze again.

I softened my tone. "My name is Alice. What’s yours?"

A pause.

Then, in a small voice, he mumbled, "Steve."

Steve.

I offered him a kind smile. "That’s a cool name, Steve. Where are your parents?"

He shrugged his little shoulders.

My heart ached at the sight of him looking so lost.

"Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you until they come," I reassured him.

He peeked up at me, his tears slowing. A small, hesitant smile crept onto his face.

For the next few minutes, I sat beside him, waiting.

Then, I spotted a tall figure striding toward us.

My heart dropped.

Mr. Walker.

His piercing gaze locked onto Steve, then flickered to me with an unreadable expression.

So this was his son.

I quickly stood up, feeling awkward.

Andrew crouched down and reached for Steve, but the boy pushed his hands away and stood up on his own, pouting.

"What’s wrong, my boy?" Andrew asked.

"You forgot about me again!" Steve blurted out, crossing his arms over his chest. His tiny face was scrunched up in frustration.

Guilt flickered in Andrew’s eyes for the briefest moment. "I’m really sorry, Steve. I promise I won’t do it again."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "That’s what you said last time."

"I really mean it this time."

Steve huffed. "I don’t believe you."

Andrew sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Then his lips curled into a small smirk. "Okay, to prove it to you, I’ll buy you whatever you want on our way home."

Steve’s face lit up. "Really?"

Andrew nodded. "Really."

Steve grinned, his anger vanishing in an instant. "Okay, Daddy!"

Andrew chuckled, shaking his head. But then his gaze flicked back to me.

For a second, he seemed surprised, as if he had forgotten I was standing there.

An awkward silence stretched between us.

I quickly turned to leave, not wanting to overstay my welcome.

But before I could take a step, a firm hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back.

I gasped, turning to find Andrew holding onto me.

"Thank you," he said, his voice calm but firm. "For staying with my son."

I swallowed hard. "It was nothing, sir. I just—"

"You start work tomorrow. Six sharp."

I blinked. "Yes, sir."

Just as I was about to pull away, Steve suddenly spoke up.

"Daddy, do you know Alice?"

Andrew sighed. "Yes."

Steve tilted his head. "Is that my new mummy?"

A wave of shock crashed over me.

"What?!" I choked out.

Andrew stiffened, his expression unreadable.

Then, at the same time, we both shouted—

"NO!"

Steve burst into giggles, clearly enjoying our horrified reactions.

I groaned inwardly.

I walked out of the police station, my face burning with embarrassment.

Me? Dating Andrew Walker?

The mere thought was laughable.

A billionaire CEO, a man of wealth and power, someone who probably had women throwing themselves at his feet every day—why would he ever look at someone like me?

I was just a struggling girl trying to survive, working off a debt for a crime.

Dating him? Impossible.

I let out a breath and shook the thought away, spotting my mother waiting in the car. She looked exhausted, her head resting against the window, eyes closed.

Guilt pricked at my chest.

She had gone through too much today.

I quickly got into the driver’s seat and started the car. The drive home was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts.

When we finally pulled into our small driveway, I turned to her. "Mom, go inside and get some rest, okay? I’ll clean up and make us something to eat."

She smiled weakly. "You always take care of me, Alice. But don’t forget to take care of yourself too."

I forced a smile. "I will, Mom. Don’t worry."

Andrew’s POV

I took Steve home, helped him change into his pajamas, and tucked him into bed.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he murmured sleepily, hugging his stuffed dinosaur.

"Goodnight, son."

I watched him for a moment, my mind drifting.

Alice.

Why was she lingering in my thoughts?

I shook my head and left his room, heading to mine. As soon as I lay down, exhaustion washed over me, but instead of falling into a deep sleep, I found myself thinking about her.

Her defiant eyes at the station.

The way she had pleaded for her mother.

The way she had comforted Steve.

There was something about her.

Something I couldn’t quite figure out.

And for some reason, I wanted to.

The Next Morning.

I woke up to the sound of knocking at my door.

"Sir?"

It was Jordan, my butler.

"What is it?" I grumbled.

"The girl is here," he announced. "She’s waiting in the sitting room for your orders."

I sat up, rubbing my temples. Alice.

Right.

I had almost forgotten about our deal.

"Offer her the best wine we have. I’ll be down soon," I ordered.

Jordan hesitated, his face slightly confused, but he nodded. "As you wish, sir."

As I freshened up, I couldn’t shake the feeling that today was going to be different.

When I finally made my way downstairs, I stopped at the entrance of the sitting room, watching her.

She was sitting on the couch, casually dressed in a simple blouse and jeans, looking completely out of place in my grand mansion.

She held a glass of wine, sipping it slowly, her eyes scanning the expensive decorations around her.

For some reason, I found myself studying her.

The way her lips touched the glass.

The way her fingers wrapped around the stem.

The way she—

"Mr. Walker?"

Her voice snapped me out of my trance.

I blinked.

She was now looking directly at me, one brow raised.

"Uh…" I cleared my throat, feeling… caught.

What the hell was wrong with me?

"Why are you drinking my wine?" I blurted out.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Your butler served it to me," she said, setting the glass down. "I didn’t steal it."

The words flew out before I could stop them.

"Of course. Just like your mother didn’t steal my diamonds."

The second I said it, I regretted it.

Her face darkened, her fists clenching.

"Well, she did," she admitted, standing up. "And I’m sorry for that. But I didn’t steal your wine. If I had, I wouldn’t be drinking it right in front of you."

Then, without another word, she turned and stormed out of the room.

Damn it.

That wasn’t how this was supposed to go.