Ezekiel’s POV.

I was in the kitchen, indulging in one of my favorite hobbies... cooking. After a hectic schedule, it was my way to unwind. The loud music blasting from the speakers amplified the energy, making the experience even more enjoyable. Suddenly, the music stopped. Surprised, I stepped out of the kitchen and spotted a girl with shiny, reddish hair glowing in the sunlight.

I smiled, realizing this must be Isabella, the girl Kathrine had spoken so much about.

“Isabella!” I called out.

She turned to face me, her gaze lingering as if she were thoroughly inspecting me. I chuckled to myself, amused by her scrutiny.

She was different from her mother; that much was clear from her demeanor. She had a fierceness in her eyes, a determination that was both intriguing and intimidating. I decided not to interrupt her, letting her take her time.

And after a while, she asked who I am.

I introduced myself, but Isabella assumed I was her mom’s cook. That was quite interesting, and I felt that my vibes could match with Kathrine’s daughter. I thought I could make her my friend easily, so I teased her a bit before clarifying who I actually was. However, it seemed it was a bad idea. Her smile faded away in a second, as if the sky had come crashing down on her.

Before I could say anything more, Kathrine appeared. I could tell Isabella was shocked and had no idea her mom had a boyfriend. I understood her feelings; I had faced something similar once. Kathrine led her to her room, and I watched them go, noting Isabella’s somber expression.

I returned to the kitchen and sighed, placing my palms on the cool marble table. The encounter had left me feeling uneasy. But my curiosity got the better of me, so I made my way to the second floor and knocked on the door. Hearing Kathrin’s permission, I cracked it open.

As I opened the door, my gaze locked with Isabella’s. Her eyes were filled with anger, a stark contrast to her mother’s more composed demeanor.

Kathrine hugged me, but I felt a bit awkward, especially with Isabella standing right there. Her expression was a mix of shock and frustration, and I could tell she wasn’t comfortable with the situation. When Kathrine tried to console her, Isabella didn’t take it well. She walked out of the room, leaving us alone.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Kathrine sighed heavily, her voice tinged with sadness.

“I don’t know what her problem is. I thought she would accept us.”

I gently placed my palms on her shoulders, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Give her some time, Kathrine. This is a lot for her to process.”

Kathrine nodded, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes.

I gave her a comforting squeeze.

“It’ll get better. Now, get ready; you have to go to the office.”

She returned my smile, albeit a bit forced, and nodded. As I turned to leave the room, a thought struck me, and I paused at the door.

“Kathrine,” I began, turning back to face her, “can I try to talk to her?”

Kathrine raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“You can try, but I know Isabella. She’s stubborn. I have a feeling she’ll just insult you.”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

“Let me try,” I insisted.

Kathrine nodded, and I left the room, thinking about how to approach Isabella. I knew winning her over would be challenging, especially after the way things had gone earlier. Not knowing much about her tastes, I decided to take a simple approach—I made a piece of chocolate cake, hoping it might serve as a peace offering.

With the cake in hand, I walked to her room. When I got there, I found the door locked. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should disturb her, but then I knocked lightly.

From inside, I heard her voice, laced with frustration. “Mom, please don’t disturb me. I’m not in the mood to talk about your and his relationship.”

I sighed, realizing this was going to be harder than I thought. Still, I wasn’t ready to give up. “I’m not your mom,” I replied, waiting for any kind of response. Silence hung in the air for a moment, and just when I thought she might ignore me, the door opened.

Isabella stood there, her expression guarded as she gave me a stern look.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice flat.

I held up the plate with the cake, offering her a small smile.

“May I come in?”

Isabella didn’t say anything, just stepped back to let me in. I took her silence as a reluctant acceptance and walked into her room. The first thing that struck me was the mess—clothes, books, and random items were scattered all over the floor, as if she had tossed them in a fit of frustration. I couldn’t help but sigh heavily, though I managed to smile.

“You are really so mean,” I said, half-jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood.

Isabella arched an eyebrow, turning to face me with her arms crossed defensively. “What did you say?”

I put the plate with the cake on a small table, looking back at the mess.

“Mean,” I repeated, nodding toward the chaos in the room.

“I mean, look at what you’ve done. And for what? Who are you wasting all this energy on?”

She didn’t answer immediately, her gaze shifting away from me, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. It was clear that something was bothering her deeply, something she wasn’t ready to talk about yet. I could see the tension in her posture, the way her jaw clenched slightly. It wasn’t just anger—it was hurt, confusion, and maybe even a bit of fear.

My voice softened as I took a step closer, careful not to push too hard.

“Is this because you’re angry with your mom?”

Isabella’s eyes flicked back to me, and for a moment, I thought she might finally open up. But instead, she just shrugged and gave a slight smile.

“It’s not about her, Mr.”

“Maybe it’s you.”

Isabella’s POV

My mom’s so-called boyfriend was in the middle of one of his tedious lectures again. I smiled politely, though I wasn’t really listening. When he asked if I was angry with my mom, I decided it was time to be blunt.

“It’s not about her, Mr.,” I shot back.

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to figure me out.

"Maybe it’s you.”

He finally said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, "I know you can’t take me as your family. You need time."

I smiled again, this time with a bit of an edge.

“Why are you dating my mom?”

“She’s 14 years older than you,” I added, not hiding the judgment in my voice.

Ezekiel raised his brows and sighed, “Actually, I find her attractive. She’s so different from others.”

“And she understands me a lot.”

“Oh really?” I couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto my face.

“So, you know others too?” I raised an eyebrow.

Ezekiel smiled, his gaze unwavering. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

“Of course not,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Breakups are so normal these days. But the real question is, how long are you going to be with my mom?”

He sighed, clearly trying to keep his cool. “What if I marry her?”

I gave him a once-over, taking in his casual stance, his smug expression. “Won’t you change your mind?”

“I think not,” he replied, a hint of arrogance in his voice. “But if I were to meet a beautiful girl like you, then it might be a little hard.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised but not entirely amused by his audacity. Ezekiel continued, his tone teasing, “After all, you are Kathrin’s daughter. How can I ignore a beautiful girl who’s just like her mom?”

“Oh, so I remind you of my mom?” I asked, matching his teasing tone.

“Um… Of course, you’re like a kid version of your mom. I bet she was just as beautiful as you when she was at your age,” Ezekiel said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

I narrowed my brows, feeling a surge of irritation.

“Listen, I’m not a kid. In fact, I’ll be 20 at the end of this month on the 30th.”

“Oh, really? I thought you were 15 years old,” he said, flashing a smile that only made my annoyance grow.

I rolled my eyes, barely holding back my frustration.

“But anyway,” he continued, “at least I’ve finally seen you smile. I hope we can be good friends in the future. I don’t want our relationship to be just based on Kathrine.”

I rolled my eyes again, this time more dramatically, shifting my gaze away from him. His attempts at charm were getting on my nerves, and I wasn’t about to let him think he was winning me over.

Ezekiel walked to the door, his hand resting on the knob.

“And by the way, I made this cake for our new guest. I hope she’ll try it and let me know what she thinks.”

I looked at the cake; its frosting was perfectly smooth, almost too perfect. Ezekiel’s voice broke the silence, “Also, if she joins us for breakfast, I’ll be happy.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of his expectations. “And what if she doesn’t join? Will he be sad?”

Ezekiel’s smile was instant, and I couldn’t deny that it was attractive. There was something in his expression that held my gaze a little longer than I intended.

“Um, yes, it would break his heart,” he said, his tone light but sincere.

I pressed my lips together, a slight smile playing at the corners. His charm was annoyingly effective, and I could feel my defenses slipping, even if just a little. “By the way, thanks for letting me know about your birthday,” he added, his eyes still locked on mine.

We exchanged a look, one that felt more meaningful than I was ready to admit. Slowly, he stepped back and closed the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and glanced back at the cake. A small smile tugged at my lips, but it quickly faded as reality set in. This was my mom’s boyfriend—the man she was planning to marry. The thought hit me like a wave, suddenly overwhelming the brief moment of levity I’d felt.

I arched my brows, without a second thought, I marched to the bathroom, tossed it into the toilet, and flushed it away. The satisfaction was immediate. With that done, I headed downstairs to the dining room.

Ezekiel was there, meticulously arranging the table. He seemed so out of place, like he belonged in a boardroom, not in my mom’s cozy dining room.

I leaned against a chair, resting my elbow on the back. “Don’t you have work?”

He looked up, still smiling. “What do you mean?”

“My mom says you’re a billionaire, a shareholder in malls and universities. So why are you here, doing this sort of thing?”

Ezekiel didn’t miss a beat. “I took a day off today,” he said, pulling out a chair for me with that same infuriatingly charming smile.

“A day off?” I echoed, arching a brow in disbelief. "Wow, it must be nice to be the owner. You can take a leave whenever you want.”

I sat down, watching him closely. Despite my irritation, I couldn’t help but notice that he looked good when he smiled—too good.

Ezekiel took a seat across from me, his demeanor relaxed. “I’m not a workaholic,” he said casually.

“I just want to live my life, travel the world, and explore everything.”

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. He was so different from what I expected—a rich guy who wasn’t obsessed with his wealth or status. It was almost... refreshing.

Ezekiel's words had a strange effect on me, almost hypnotic. His desire to explore the world mirrored my own secret wishes, and for a moment, I found myself drawn into the idea. But just as our conversation was hitting its peak, my mom’s voice interrupted.

“What are you guys talking about?”

I looked up, raising my brows as I spotted her. She was dressed for the office, ready to leave as if today were just another day. It stung—after almost three months of being apart, she couldn’t even take one day off to spend with me.

To mock her, I turned to Ezekiel, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“But Mr. Ezekiel, I don’t think you’ll be with my mom for long. She doesn’t like to explore everything; her only priority is her work.”

Mom froze, the butter knife hovering over the bread.

Her eyes flicked to me, but I ignored her, keeping my gaze on Ezekiel.

“It’s only you who’ll have to compromise, always.”

“Isabella!” Mom’s voice was sharp but controlled. She didn’t want to make a scene in front of him.

“Do you know how much pressure I’m under?” she shot back; her tone defensive. “And for whom I’m doing all this?”

“For you, Isabella.”

I pressed the fork into the table, feeling the familiar weight of her words. I was tired of hearing the same justifications, the same excuses. Standing up abruptly, I glared at her. “Good luck with that.”

Without another word, I stormed out of the dining room, ignoring the breakfast I hadn’t touched, and headed back to the second floor.

**

Kathrine let out a deep breath, her frustration palpable as she looked at Ezekiel.

“Did you see her tone and behavior?” she said, her voice filled with bitterness.

“Just like her dad.”

She shook her head, taking a bite of her bread.

“I’m just fed up with both of them.”

Ezekiel parted his lips as if to say something, but then he hesitated, thinking better of it. Instead, he glanced up toward the second floor, his expression faint.

Isabella’s POV.

I stood on the balcony, resting my elbow on the cool parapet, my eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. Mom had really outdone herself, managing everything so beautifully... the garden below was lush and vibrant, and the veranda on the ground floor looked like something out of a magazine. But as I took it all in, I couldn’t help but remember that it hadn’t always been this way. The last time I visited, everything was more chaotic, less perfect.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when my mom’s car pulled away from the mansion. The sound of the engine fading into the distance brought me back to reality. I sighed deeply and let my gaze wander to the swimming pool. So many memories were tied to that pool—memories of my mom, my dad.

Lost in thought, I was startled by a soft cough behind me. I turned, spotting Ezekiel standing there with two mugs in his hands. I immediately felt a surge of irritation and turned away, refusing to acknowledge him.

He moved to stand beside me, close but not too close. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his intentions.

“I made cappuccino,” he said, his voice gentle, as if trying to soothe the tension between us.

“I heard someone likes it.”

I turned away, ignoring Ezekiel, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily. He extended the mug toward me, flashing a confident smile. “I guess she won’t mind having something from this handsome cook.”

I shot a sidelong glance at the mug, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. After a minute of silent resistance, I finally accepted it with a moody expression. As I took the mug, I noticed Ezekiel’s smile widen, clearly pleased with himself.

“Thank you!”

I took a tentative sip, half-expecting it to be awful, but to my surprise, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, the taste was unique, unlike any cappuccino I’d had before. A pang of regret hit me—I shouldn’t have thrown that cake away. If Ezekiel wanted, he could probably open a restaurant.

“How is it?” he asked, watching me closely.

I raised my brows, trying to play it cool.

“Um… not bad.”

“Not bad? So, it’s not so good, right?” he teased, clearly fishing for more.

I arched my brows in response. “When did I say it’s not good? I just said ‘not bad,’ which means it’s good.”

Ezekiel’s grin widened as I took another sip. I couldn’t help but think that he probably enjoyed hearing compliments a bit too much. Maybe it was a common trait among handsome men—they thrived on praise.

I decided to play along. “You could open a restaurant, you know?”

“That means you like it?” he asked, leaning in slightly, clearly enjoying the banter.

I smiled, taking another sip before replying, “After all, a handsome man made it. How could I say it’s bad?”

**

Ezekiel chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful exchange between us. Despite myself, I was beginning to find our back-and-forth amusing. Even though he was my mom’s boyfriend, there was something disarming about him that made it hard to stay annoyed.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “How did you meet my mom, Mr. Ezekiel?”

He leaned casually against the wall, his gaze steady on me. “We met because of a business purpose.”

He paused, as if recalling the memory fondly.

“Then, after working with her, I started falling for her.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“Boring…”

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow at my reaction, clearly surprised.

“I didn’t think it would be boring. If it’s about my mom, then maybe, but I didn’t expect that from you.”

He laughed again, a deep, genuine sound that caught me off guard.

“You’ve only known me for a few hours, and now you’re expecting me not to be boring?”

“Of course, you’re not easy to impress. I can tell a lot about a person’s likes and dislikes after talking to them, seeing their tastes,” I said raising an eyebrow.

“What are your intentions?”

He sighed, as if the answer was simple. “Right now, my intention is to take you out and show you around.”

“Wanna go out?”

A smile tugged at my lips, surprising me. “Not a bad idea. I was starting to think my day was going to be a disaster, but now I think it might turn out okay.”

Ezekiel dipped his head slightly, a mock formality in his tone. “Please, get ready, my lady. I’ll be waiting for you.”

His behavior was unexpected—charming, even. There was something about the way he treated me, a mix of respect and playfulness, that made it hard to stay indifferent. I found myself smiling back, almost against my will.

“Alright,” I replied, my voice softer than before.

“Give me a few minutes.”

As I walked to my room to change, I couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly the day had shifted. I had assumed that once I got here, my days would be spent arguing with my mom, but here I was, actually looking forward to hanging out with her boyfriend.

With a handsome, dashing man!