Chapter 330 - Three Hundred And Thirty: His Son (2/2)

”Afternoon, mom,” He pecked her on the cheeks, taking a seat beside her.

”Yeah, I'm sure you had a pleasant morning,” she said knowingly, ”Don't even need to guess your status anymore,”

Pedro blushed.

And as mothers would be mothers, she sat up properly to get the rest of the juicy gossip.

”So tell me, how was your first night? I bet it was sexy,”

”Mom!” he whined, leaning back into his chair with his face buried in the crook of his arms, ”I am so not telling you that,”

”What's wrong with telling me? Come on, this woman's bored. Pedro, entertain me,” she pressed, yanking his arm off to see a face as red as shrimp.

”If you want entertainment, get a companion,” Pedro told her, shifting away so she doesn't bother him further.

”This woman's old for that,” Cecil claimed.

”You're just thirty-eight, what's old about that?” he shrugged.

Cecil groaned, ”Are you gisting me or not?”

”Nope. Not a chance,” Pedro stood his ground. Mother or not, there was no way in hell he was telling her about the things he and Isabella did last night. So he diverted the topic.

”You're not going to work today - ”

”Nope, not a chance. Not after the stressful wedding yesterday,” Was her reply. Though today was Sunday, his mother's work as a fashion designer knew no day of rest.

”I'm having my beauty rest today, my schedules were all adjusted, thought tomorrow would be one roller-coaster ride judging from all the clients I have kept waiting,” she sank back against the couch with an exhausted sigh.

”What about Emily? How does she work from Lincolnshire?” he asked her since both women were running a partnership.

”I've discussed with her and we're going to open a branch in Lincolnshire,”

”Wow,” He was stunned, ”That's a good one,”

”Yeah, we're thinking of blending our style with Lincolnshire culture for the season and see how that works out,”

”Well, Emily has the prince on her side, why wouldn't it work out?” Pedro stood to his feet, ”I'm going to have a rest,”

”Sure, after such an exciting night, you need as much rest as you can,” she intentionally teased him.

”Mom -”

The doorbell rang.

”Huh?” Cecil looked up at him, a smile stretching her lips, ”Don't tell me that's Isabella at the door,”

”Ugh,” Pedro rolled his eyes and went to answer the door saying, ”Isabella, what brings you - oh,”

It wasn't Isabella as they thought, rather a man who had his back turned to him. He was looking around and had not noticed the door was opened yet.

Pedro cleared his throat to notify him of his presence, ”A-hem, excuse me sir, but who are…..” the rest of his words died off when the man faced him.

No way in hell.

Pedro gaped at the man who had the same blue eyes as him and though they didn't share the same hair color - he had inherited his mother's blonde ones - that face was incredibly similar to his. Pedro didn't need a prophet to tell him that this man was his father.

The man looked startled to see him too. Father and son kept staring at each other, regarding one another intensely. Scenes like this could only happen in movies, but it was happening right in front of him.

”Hi son,” the man waved, hesitantly.

The boy was confused. What was he supposed to do? Or say?

”Pedro, what the hell is keeping you at the door. Don't tell me you and Isabella are doing dirty things …” there was a hint of laughter in her mother's voice and it was coming closer in his direction.

Cecil arrived at the entrance,” Pedro, what are you -” the woman's eyes suddenly widened as soon as her eyes rested on the man standing at the door.

”Fernandez,” she gasped from pure shock.

”Cecil,” the man said, softly.

”What are you doing here?” She spat, her previous shock turning into hot simmering anger.

”What do you think I'm here for? Of course, I'm here to take my son,”

Oh, God damn you.