CHAPTER 2: CHAPTER 2: HAND OVER MY SON

Chase Warren stared at the child in the photo, gradually petrifying, his hands trembling. This... How could this child look so much like the boss? Could it be the boss’s illegitimate child?

On the other side, Seraphina Sinclair drove with her child to temporarily stay at her best friend Rosalie Quinn’s house. After tidying up, she lazily lay on the couch and ordered takeout.

After ordering, she looked up and saw her son toddling around, trying to wipe the table.

After that devastating fire at the psychiatric hospital, she took advantage of the chaos to escape and later discovered she was already two months pregnant. Her nearly despairing heart suddenly came back to life.

Jude Sinclair was very sensible. At just over four years old, he was exceptionally intelligent, almost eerily so, and fluent in several languages, not needing anyone to worry about him.

With such an outstanding son, Seraphina felt a sweetness in her heart and bit into an apple, saying, "Jude, why is it that your mommy has so many virtues, and you’ve inherited none?! Not even the looks resemble me."

"Mommy, I’m afraid I inherited all of Daddy’s traits." Jude stopped his cleaning movements, looking serious.

Speaking of the child’s father, Seraphina recalled that damn gigolo?

She gritted her teeth, striving to keep her face neutral, not letting any hatred show in front of her child.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and little Jude gave her a disdainful look. "Mommy, did you order takeout again?"

Seraphina stuck out her tongue playfully, chuckling.

"I’ll get the door." Saying this, Seraphina got up to open the door.

The instant she opened the door, her expression changed dramatically. Standing there was not a delivery guy, but a dashing man with piercing black eyes that exuded an intimidating aura as he gazed at her.

"Hand over my son."

"Who the hell is your son?" Seraphina clutched the door, finding the man in front of her utterly baffling.

But upon closer inspection of the man. With his deep-set features, straight nose, and thin lips—his perfect facial contours—wasn’t he just a grown-up version of Jude?

Could it be, this man was the gigolo from that night?!

Seraphina’s face instantly went pale, and in anger, she slapped him hard. "How dare you come here! Get lost!"

The man’s eyes darkened. Seraphina didn’t give him a chance to speak and slammed the door shut.

Thinking about what happened that night still infuriated Seraphina. Her first time was ruined by that gigolo.

When her anger subsided a bit, Seraphina looked down to see her son gazing up at her from by her leg.

The man’s words were like thunder that stirred her wrath. He even thought of taking her child away—dream on!

Jude looked at his mommy, pointed at his own face, and spoke softly, "Look at my face. It’s the same as the man outside. Is he my daddy?"

"No!" Seraphina instantly rejected the notion.

Jude was her hard-earned child, lovingly raised, and he surely didn’t have an indecent gigolo for a father.

Outside, Desmond Fairchild pressed his lips together, his face dark with disbelief. This woman dared to hit him!

Audacious!

Desmond’s thick eyebrows shot up, and he knocked on the door again. His deep eyes, calm and black as night, coldly commanded, "Open the door."

Hearing the icy voice from outside, Seraphina picked up her phone, intending to call the police. But thinking of her son, she hesitated.

If he had a criminal record, then what about Jude...?

At this moment, Jude sensibly said, "Mommy, if you don’t like him, we can just make him leave."

Seraphina’s eyes instantly reddened. While studying abroad, Jude was often asked who his father was. Those sarcastic remarks—although Jude always said he didn’t mind—after all, he was just a child. Recalling these, Seraphina’s heart twisted with pain.

Her baby needed a daddy.

After some thought, Seraphina put Jude behind her, calmly opened the door, and said to the man, "Come in!"