All Chapters of His Son, Her Secret: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

My breath was getting shorter, and I didn't care. I lost myself in that familiar feeling, it kept me spinning in a drunken stupor.He pulled me up, bringing me onto his lap. The circle of my hands around his neck tightens.His lips move gently but claimingly, overpowering all my slowly fading logic. The touch of his hands on my waist and the way he pulled me closer to his body made me feel like I was drowning in a storm that I couldn't stop.I don't know how this happened, but in his lap, the world felt so small, so tight. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, following the rhythm of his deep breathing. His fingers traced my back slowly, creating a searing flow throughout my body.The sound of the waves lapping in the distance and the cool coastal breeze almost disappeared, replaced by his dominance and kisses that paralyzed my sanity.And then, in between, there was something faint, like a whisper in the corner of my mind.A slight sway began to appear, shaking the already fragile footing.

I stood before my bedroom mirror, staring at my reflection uneasily. Trembling hands fixed my simple pale blue dress while my mind spun endlessly. My hair, which I usually let down, was tied up in a neat bun this time, but somehow, I felt it still wasn't enough.Since the incident five years ago, this wasn't the first time I had met Pascha's parents. I can still vividly remember my meeting with his mother in that fancy restaurant, and she was so kind and accepting of all my decisions five years ago.But this time was different. I met them as the mother of their grandson. Max. One fact that makes my throat dry up every time I think about it.What if they didn't accept Max? Or worse, what if they accepted him too well and tried to take him away from me?I clenched my fists, feeling my chest grow heavy with anxiety.A slight knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Before I could say, come in, Pascha had already stepped in, wearing a black sweater that clung perfectly to his body, pair

Fancy food was served: foie-gras, grilled lobster, and other dishes whose names I couldn't even pronounce. But everyone's attention at the table was not on the food but on Max, who was sitting comfortably on Pascha's lap."So, Max," Igor broke the silence with a big smile, "what do you like most about San Francisco and living on the beach?"Max turned to Igor, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I love the beach! Mommy, I and Aunt Clara always play at the beach, and I love looking for shells."I tried to smile, although it felt strange to hear him speak so confidently in front of the Romanovs.Igor chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. "The beach, huh? You should try coming to Moscow in winter. There's snow, ice, and you can skiing."Max frowned, then shrugged dramatically. "I know about snow from movies. But skiing seems hard. I prefer surfing!"I almost choked on my breath. Where did he learn to talk like that? Before I could say anything, Trisha chuckled from the right side of the t

Our algorithms are being tested in a virtual environment that simulates fundamental mining operations. I scan the data, looking for anomalies or errors that could interfere with the final results.My mind is focused on this report until Ryan's voice comes. "I need confirmation on the second stage simulation. The output energy parameters don't seem to be consistent with the input data."I nodded. "Put your report here," I said, pointing at the table. "What did you find?"Ryan placed his tablet before me, pointing to a graph showing energy fluctuations. "The values drop drastically at certain intervals. I think it has something to do with the automatic control algorithm adjustments, but I'm not sure yet."I sifted through the graph, realizing that the fluctuations occurred every time the system tried to predict an increase in fuel efficiency."This is an error in the predictive module. We need to adjust the threshold to be more tolerant of real-time data variations. Give me a few hours

The supermarket wasn't too crowded this early in the afternoon, just a few customers leisurely strolling the aisles with their trolleys. I pushed my trolley towards the fresh meat section, still remembering Max's dramatic request this morning—the chickens in his dream that ran away and left him hungry.What I hadn't counted on was who was walking beside me now.In a casual suit that still looks too expensive for a regular supermarket, Pascha walks casually beside me with an annoyingly casual expression. His hands were stuffed into his pants pockets while his eyes scanned the shelves as if this was his first time setting foot in a place like this.Well, I didn't know that it still stuck with him. Five years ago, he was a prince who had everything in his luxury penthouse—a personal chef and maids—and I'm guessing that he's still a stranger to supermarkets until now.I took a whole chicken from the cooling rack and put it in the trolley.“Is this chicken enough to fulfill Max's dream?” P