Cecilia was busy in the bathroom, the sound of running water drowning out any other noises.

“Once you’re done cleaning up, come out here and grab a coffee for your dad,” she called to Santos, who was bouncing with excitement, waiting to finally step into his dad’s room.

“Yippee!”

He carefully put the earring back in its box before dashing out to get the coffee.

He gave a cautious knock on the door. “Dad, can I come in?”

Bruno was caught off guard by the boy’s politeness. When he saw Santos peeking through the door, the usual coldness he felt toward kids thawed just a little.

But his voice stayed aloof. “Come in.”

Bruno hoped that keeping things distant would make Santos give him some space, so he could get a little peace.

Santos carried the cup over carefully. “Dad, here’s your coffee.”

Bruno, still not used to being called “Dad,” took the cup, swallowed his pills, and handed it right back. “Alright, you can go now.”

Santos didn’t budge. He spotted Bruno’s injury. “Does it hurt a lot, Dad?”

“Not at all. Now get going.”

“Dad, you’re just faking it! You’re hurting so bad you can’t even get out of bed. I’ll blow on it—it’ll feel better.”

And with that, Santos climbed onto the bed and gently blew on the wound. The tickling sensation actually seemed to ease Bruno’s pain.

The worry in Santos’s eyes, the way he was genuinely trying to comfort him—it softened Bruno’s heart. Maybe kids weren’t so bad after all.

Pretending to stay indifferent was getting harder. He lifted his shirt a little. “Blow on my waist, too.”

As Cecilia busied herself outside, she’d steal glances every now and then. Seeing the two of them getting along like that brought a smile to her face.

Just seeing her son spend a moment with his “dad” made it worth having Bruno around.

Once the laundry was hung up to dry, Cecilia appeared in the doorway. “Santos, Mommy has to go out. Wanna go play at Auntie Kahlani’s?”

She wasn’t comfortable leaving her son alone with Bruno.

“I don’t wanna! I wanna stay with Dad!” Santos protested.

Bruno got why she hesitated and agreed. “I’m gonna take a nap. Go on over to Auntie’s.”

Reluctantly, Santos nodded. “Okay, Dad. Sleep good. We’ll play more when you wake up.”

Finding common ground on parenting surprised Cecilia. That was rare—and welcome.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she joked to Bruno, “In just half a day, your word’s already got more pull than mine.”

Santos’s infectious enthusiasm had already lightened Bruno’s mood; he was way less icy. “Jealous?”

“Oh please, in your dreams,” Cecilia shot back with a laugh.

After dropping Santos off at Auntie Kahlani’s, Cecilia headed out.

She ran her errands and made her way to the local “information hub”—the coffee shop. It was the go-to spot for all the latest town gossip.

With the sudden appearance of an outsider in town, and suspects of a chase, she wondered if anyone had useful info. But after eavesdropping for a while, she didn’t hear a single peep about Bruno.

Disappointed, and about to leave, her phone rang.

“Miss Dunn, the fees for Bed 26 are due again.”

Cecilia’s face went serious. Her voice came out heavy. “I’ll pay them right now.”

After covering the hospital bills, she stared at her dwindling balance, worry pressing in.

She changed course and headed to the police station.

“Any missing person reports lately?” she asked.

The officer gave her a puzzled look. “No, why? You find someone? A homeless guy or a kid?”

Her disappointment deepened. “No, I was just checking.”

Leaving the station, she felt crushed. Without knowing who Bruno was, she couldn’t claim the half a million she was promised. Without that money, she couldn’t get better treatment for her loved one in the hospital.

Lost in thought, she made her way home.

“Auntie Kahlani, I’m here for Santos.”

“He already went back,” Auntie Kahlani said.

The color drained from Cecilia’s face.

Bruno had told her he didn’t like kids. Could his warmth from earlier have been an act? Had he mistreated Santos while she was gone?

Panic surging, she rushed home and shouted, “Santos! Santos Ryan!”

Silence.

Heart pounding, she threw open Bruno’s bedroom door—and froze at the sight.

Santos was lying there, peacefully asleep next to Bruno, who was gently fanning him with a palm leaf.

Hearing the ruckus, Bruno looked up, exhaustion in his eyes.

Cecilia finally let out a breath, dropping her voice. “Why’s he sleeping in here?”

Bruno tossed the fan into her lap, grumbling, “He got sleepy, climbed up, and passed out on his own. Now get him outta here!”

At first, Bruno wanted to shoo the clingy kid away. But then, as Santos mumbled “I love you, Dad” in his half-sleep and snuggled up against Bruno’s leg, his heart just melted.

Watching Santos sleep there, all sweaty and cute, Bruno couldn’t help himself. He started fanning him with the palm leaf to cool him down. Half an hour later, his arm was aching from the effort.

Cecilia was touched by this unexpected softness from Bruno. “Thank you. Let him sleep a little longer.”

She stepped out briefly and came back with a bunch of stuff for Bruno.

“Got your trash can,” she announced. “Now you can take care of it yourself.”

Bruno’s face twisted in disbelief and disgust. “I told you, I don’t need it!”

Cecilia’s smile was sweet, but her tone was hard. “Suit yourself. But just so you know, if the couch gets messed up, there will be consequences.”

Bruno glared at her back as she walked away, wishing he could bore holes into her with just his eyes.

By evening, the small room had gotten stuffy, so Bruno was moved to the living room sofa. After lying around so long, he was feeling restless.

He spotted some magazines under the coffee table and grabbed one, calling out to Cecilia as she tidied up nearby. “You into finance magazines?”

“Not really,” Cecilia said. “Left by some old tenant. I was gonna sell them for recycling.”

Bruno’s eyes landed on an article with an interview. “Don’t sell ’em yet. I’ll use ’em to kill time.”

This issue had an interview with his grandfather, Conor Vargas.

Bruno looked more like his mother than the Vargas side, so he barely glanced at the photo, more absorbed in the article.

Santos scampered over. “Dad, I wanna read too!”

Even though the kid’s presence no longer annoyed him, liking him was still a stretch. Focused on the article, Bruno said, “Go play somewhere else,” without really thinking.

Cecilia cut in, “Talk to him right, Bruno!”

Remembering their earlier deal, Bruno finally looked up, his patience wearing thin. “Fine. You can read with me, but no noise.”

Santos nodded eagerly, happily settling in next to Bruno.

Bruno let the boy snuggle under his arm, the two of them bent over the magazine together—a surprisingly heartwarming sight.

Cecilia couldn’t help but pull out her phone and take a video. She figured it’d be something for Santos to look back on when he missed his dad.

After filming from the front, she moved behind them. When she looked at the magazine page, her face froze.

She snatched it away. “Conor Vargas?”

Bruno looked up, surprised. “You know the richest man in New York City?”

Cecilia held her tongue, her face tight. Bruno studied her, clocking the way she flinched earlier when he'd mentioned any possible tie to the Ryan family.

"So, they really are your enemies?" Bruno murmured.

Santos, always nosy, jumped in with, "Mom, who's the bad guy? Is someone messing with you? Just tell me and I'll deal with it!"

Cecilia shot him a look, wrestling down the storm inside. She ruffled his hair. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Don't listen to your dad's nonsense."

Cecilia didn't spill any details, but Bruno could feel it in his gut—there was way more history between her and the Ryans in Port City than she was letting on.

He decided not to push it and went back to flipping through a magazine.

Later, a loud thud followed by Bruno's pained groan jerked Cecilia awake. She bolted out to find him on the floor, face twisted in a grimace.

"How do you manage to fall out of a bed this huge?" she teased, hauling him up.

Bruno winced. "I was trying to get to the bathroom and tripped."

"Didn't I give you a bedpan for emergencies?" she shot back, pointedly.

"I told you, I'm not using that!" Bruno snapped, stubborn as a mule.

"Fine. Your call, your misery," Cecilia sighed, too exhausted to argue at this ungodly hour. Grudgingly, she helped him to the bathroom, listening to the water run as she waited outside.

"All that stubbornness just to end up suffering," she muttered under her breath.

When Bruno emerged, he declared, "I need a shower."

Cecilia, groggy and thoroughly ticked off, shot him a look. "You can't get your wounds wet!"

With the summer heat, Bruno felt sticky and gross, unable to sleep a wink. "Just help me wash a little," he pleaded.

She jabbed a finger at herself, eyes wide. "Help you? Ever hear of 'a gentleman and a lady don't just go around touching each other'?"

Bruno wasn't thrilled about asking for her help, but he was out of options. "You already saw everything last night. Why the sudden coy act?"

"I was saving your life!" Cecilia shot back, frustration climbing. "That's totally different!"

"If I don't clean up, I might as well be dead. Help me out just this once," Bruno urged, his voice turning sincere.

She studied the pampered prince standing before her and let out a long breath. "One more million on top of the reward."

Bruno didn't even flinch. "Deal."

Truth was, Cecilia wasn't holding her breath for extra cash—she doubted she'd ever see the original promised amount. The demand was more for her own peace of mind.

Pretending this whole thing might actually be worth her time, she grabbed some plastic wrap and a stool and rolled up her sleeves. "Off with your clothes," she commanded.

Bruno managed to get his shirt off but couldn't bend enough to lose the pants because of the gash in his abdomen. "You're gonna have to handle this."

Chanting "one million, one million" in her head, Cecilia worked quick, dying to crawl back to bed. She bent down and yanked his trousers, accidentally pulling way more than she meant to in her sleep-deprived haze.

Startled by her own screwup, she whipped around, blushing like she'd been lit on fire.

"CECILIA!!!" Bruno's voice was pure outrage.

"That was straight-up harassment!"

She'd never landed in a situation like this before. She fumbled to help him get dressed again, covering her embarrassment with clumsy speed. "I might as well throw myself in the river…"

"And yet here you are!" Bruno shot back, watching her hands tremble like mad.

Sighing, he ordered, "You've already seen it. Open your damn eyes!"

"No need, I can do this blind!" Cecilia insisted, totally mortified.

"I'm worried about where exactly your hands might wander off to!" he countered.

Her eyes flew open.

Once he was dressed and his wounds properly wrapped, the tiny bathroom felt even more cramped with the two of them this close.

Her fingers brushed against his rock-hard abs, and some traitorous flutter went off in her chest.

To kill the awkward silence, she blurted, "Damn, you're built—how do you even get in shape?"

The second the words left her mouth, she realized they sounded way too flirty. She silently cursed her runaway curiosity.

Bruno, picking up on the vibe, shot her a smirk. "Wanna check it out up close?"

"Well, that's wildly inappropriate…" Cecilia muttered, feeling like her own curiosity had just sold her out.

Her interest only cranked up Bruno's suspicion.

"Go ahead, take a feel. I dare you," Bruno's tone was more teasing than serious.

Resigning herself to his so-called generosity, she gave his chest a hesitant squeeze, genuinely stunned by how firm he was.

Bruno caught her lingering hand and held it tight. "Cecilia, you looking for trouble?"

"You offered!" she defended, wildly.

"Oh, so we're playing innocent now?" Bruno teased.

He yanked her closer, an arm snaking around her waist. "You went around calling me your husband in front of everyone—hoping to make it real?"

Cecilia, bold in spirit but shy when it came to real action, felt a sudden chill at his closeness.

"No, that's not what this is…" she stammered.

Bruno's voice dropped to a murmur. "More than the five hundred grand, you just want me, don't you? You could've just said so. I'm not against it."

He tipped her chin up to force her eyes to meet his. "I can't fulfill every single desire you've got yet, but how about we start with a kiss?"

As he leaned in, Cecilia fought every urge to smack that smug smirk off his face. But she was smart enough not to go pissing off the prized heir of the Ryan family.

Pulling herself together, she mocked, "You're really enjoying your little game, aren't you?"

Bruno, seemingly clueless about how heavy his words landed, chuckled. "I just found out who I really am. I was a coward to ditch you and Santos back then. I didn't tell you about who I was sooner because I was terrified you'd hold it over my head. Forgive me, yeah?"

Cecilia realized Lincoln hadn't told him the part about Shelby Wright.

"So you're not scared I'll hold you accountable now?" she jabbed.

Bruno grinned. "I'm ready to make it up to you. Should I kneel right here or in the bedroom?"

His playful charm did a little damage to her anger, slicing it down some.

Gently taking her hand, he spoke with more earnestness. "I messed up. Coming back into the family was brutal. I hid who I was partly to keep you from shouldering any unnecessary crap. Let's hash this whole thing out, and maybe I'll even remember why I left you in the first place."

Cecilia dropped her gaze.

Thinking back over recent events, she remembered bringing a bloody Bruno into her home. It was dead obvious he lived a dangerous life—ordinary people didn't have enemies like his. His secrecy was probably what kept her out of harm's way.

She wanted the real truth about Bruno and Shelby, but she knew counting on either of them was pointless. One was in a coma, the other had lost his damn memory.

For now, she'd have to rely on herself.

"We can put our issues on pause," she told him. "Go handle your own affairs."

"I'll introduce you formally to my grandparents and parents," he suggested.

Uncertain about Bruno's real standing, Cecilia still felt the older couple deserved respect on an occasion like this.

Gathering her skirt, she tried to stand, but the pins and needles from sitting too long and those killer heels almost sent her crashing down.

Bruno caught her deftly.

"Should I just carry you?" he quipped.

They hadn't exactly been close lately, but his stupidly handsome face and how near he stood left her momentarily flustered.

Way too damn good-looking for his own good—a walking temptation.

She frowned, stretched out her legs, and pushed him off. "Who needs your help?"

Smoothing down her dress, she walked off like she owned the place.

Santos showed up hauling two massive platters of desserts. "Dad! Mom! The chef made two huge spiced honey cakes just for me! You guys have gotta try them!"

Bruno scooped Santos up and grabbed one of the plates. "Dad's not hungry, and Mom's had enough sweets for the day. Eat too much and you'll get sick. Save some for later, okay?"

Santos's face fell. "But the chef made them just for me and put in extra fruit!"

Seeing that pout, Bruno caved instantly. "Alright, alright, I'll eat it! Can't let all my son's hard work go to waste."

Santos broke into a huge grin and shoved a giant piece into Bruno's mouth. "It's so yummy! Later let's ask Grandpa if we can take some home for later!"

Bruno, his mouth full, managed, "Don't need to take 'em home. This is your home now. And hey, it's 'Great-Grandpa' from now on."

Santos furrowed his brows. "Why 'Great-Grandpa'? And why is this our home? Our home's in Westfield."

Bruno explained, "This is where Dad grew up, so it's your home too. Grandpa is my grandpa, so you call him 'Great-Grandpa.' Got it?"

Santos nodded, still looking a little lost. "OK."

Another piece of cake followed, piling onto Bruno's contentment.

After Cecilia had greeted the family matriarch, Conor Vargas came up to her with, "Cecilia, my grandson came back today. The foolish way he treated you before was dead wrong. I'll have him apologize properly later!"

Feeling the weight of a hundred eyes on her, Cecilia froze up. "Um, about that…"

Explaining her whole tangled relationship with Bruno under this much scrutiny felt impossible.

Nearby, Lincoln could barely hold in his laughter.

Bruno made his way over with Santos just as Conor asked, "Why are you holding Cecilia's son? You two back together or something?"

Santos chirped up, "Great-Grandpa!"

Then, turning to the matriarch, "Happy Thanksgiving, Great-Grandma!"

Conor stared, confused. "Why the fancy new title today?"

Bruno finished off his cake and faced him. "Grandpa, Grandma, let me officially introduce Cecilia as my wife and Santos as my son."

Conor's eyes nearly popped out. "You said what? Cecilia and you… But Cecilia's married, she's got a husband!"

His head spun.

Bruno set the record straight. "Her husband has always been me. Santos is our son from way back. I'll fill you in later."

Conor swung around to Lincoln. "Didn't you once say that… something was handled? Tell me you're not serious!"

Lincoln, dancing with mischief, said, "Just a little trick to stop you from swiping Santos. My bad!"

"You sneaky little—!" Conor raised his cane, fuming.

Meanwhile, Brock Baker snapped out of his daze, completely floored. He turned on Cecilia. "You're telling me your husband has been Bruno this whole damn time?"

Earlier, after watching Bruno's rise, Cecilia had a hunch Brock might be his biggest rival.

She gave him a sly smile. "Yep. He's been right under your nose the whole time. Wishing you'd found him sooner?"

Brock ground his teeth, pasting on fake regret. "Of course. Had we known he was here, we wouldn't have wasted all that effort hunting for him, only to be fooled by some look-alike."

Feigning shock, Cecilia said, "Hell of a coincidence, someone looking so much like him, especially carrying the family heirloom."

Brock's mouth twitched. "An impossible coincidence."

He rounded on her, accusing, "You found Bruno and hid it from Grandma and Aunt, letting them worry themselves sick. Was there some hidden agenda?"

Then he pushed further. "Was all that caring for Shelby Wright and helping Grandma just part of some calculated scheme?"

Cecilia's words jammed in her throat. She realized she was being painted as the villain.

She cut straight through the fake politeness. "You just never miss a chance to drag my name through the mud, do you?"

Brock, boiling mad, fired back, "Talking back like that in front of your elders—you think you can just waltz into the Ryan family? Keep dreaming!"

Cecilia met his anger with icy calm. "Are you the one calling the shots here?"

"You—!" Brock spluttered.

To him, Cecilia was clearly an enemy he'd never be able to avoid.

Cecilia flinched at Bruno's sudden intensity, panic seizing her chest as her mind raced to Santos sleeping nearby. She whispered sharply, trying to defuse the bomb ticking between them.

"You're being ridiculous. I didn't mean anything by it!"

"You're always playing games, and now you act like you're innocent?"

"You're making that up. I haven't done a single thing to lead you on!"

"Oh yeah? Pulling my pants down, touching my chest, the flirting—and you still deny it?"

"The pants were an accident, and touching you... it was just curiosity."

"You've got a kid. What's so damn intriguing about a man's body? Can't you come up with a better excuse?"

Cecilia's mouth fell open but no words came out.

Bruno leaned in, his breath hot against her skin. "Tonight, I'm going to kiss you until your legs give out."

At his words, her knees already felt like jelly. Mortified and desperate, she bit her lip and jabbed a finger hard into the wound on his abdomen.

Bruno hissed, releasing her with a pained grunt. "You little devil—that was brutal!"

Cecilia bolted from the bathroom, locked herself in her room, and buried her head under the covers.

"Stupid man! Egotistical jerk! I swear I'll kick you out tomorrow and let your enemies tear you to pieces!"

Her whispered rant faded into the pillow until sleep finally dragged her under.

When morning came and she didn't spot Santos, she yawned and shuffled out of her room to find him.

She discovered the little boy curled up in Bruno's bed, his head resting on Bruno's arm, the picture of peaceful contentment.

"Santos, come here right now!"

Santos didn't budge an inch. "Dad said I could stay."

Bruno lay back with an arm tucked under his head, watching Cecilia with a lazy grin. "Wanna join us? There's plenty of room."

Cecilia shot him a death glare. "Don't you dare say stuff like that in front of the child!"

She scooped Santos right off the bed. "Go get cleaned up, now!"

With just the two adults left in the room, Cecilia cleared her throat. "We need to talk."

Having a kid in the house meant she couldn't afford another close call like last night. She had to lay down some ground rules with Bruno before things spiraled.

Bruno nodded. "I'm listening."

"Last night was a misunderstanding," Cecilia started, her voice firm. "I have zero interest in you. None."

Bruno's expression stayed skeptical.

"All I want is to raise Santos well," she went on, dead serious. "I've got no plans to find a partner or get married, so you can drop the idea that I'm scheming something. Don't twist my actions into something they're not, and don't pull anything inappropriate."

Her life was already so packed with responsibilities that romance or relationships didn't even make the list.

The playful glint in Bruno's eyes faded, replaced by something surprisingly genuine. "Don't be so absolute. What if you meet someone who genuinely cares about you and your son?"

Cecilia's gaze turned even darker. "There's no such thing as true love. In the adult world, everything's a transaction. I saved your life for half a million. You're nice to my kid because you need me."

She spoke so bluntly that guilt stabbed at Bruno's chest. He realized, too late, he'd misread her completely.

"So basically, your point is you've got no designs on me, right? I get it. And I'm sorry for how I acted."

With everything out in the open, a weight lifted off both their shoulders.

From then on, Bruno—aside from the basics like eating and bathroom breaks—didn't bother Cecilia. But Santos? The kid couldn't stay away from him.

When Cecilia got home that afternoon, Santos came running, his little face twisted with worry.

"Mom, Dad's burning up!"

Bruno lay there with his eyes shut, cheeks flushed bright red.

Cecilia pressed a hand to his forehead. "He's on fire!"

Muttering under her breath, she scrambled to find the thermometer.

Bruno's lips were dry and cracked, his eyes swimming with reproach as they met hers. "You left me in the bathroom last night."

Struggling to bathe by himself, he'd soaked his wound and hadn't dried his hair, leaving his already weakened body an easy target for sickness.

"You did this to yourself!" she snapped.

Glancing at the thermometer, Cecilia's worry deepened. "103.1! Nope, you need a hospital—now!"

Bruno's hand clamped around her arm. "No hospitals! Just give me the damn medicine..."

She knew that parading an injured man around would raise red flags and might lead his pursuers right to their door. "Fine. Let's try the meds first."

She gave him fever reducers and pressed an ice pack to his forehead.

"Don't go frying your brain on me—you still owe me half a million," she fretted, hovering over him.

His throat burning like sandpaper, Bruno mumbled weakly, "If I lose my mind, it's not just half a million. You'd have to take care of me for life..."

"Oh no, you are not pinning that on me!" Cecilia shot back.

"If you hadn't ditched me, I wouldn't be burning up right now. Who else would I pin it on...?" The memory loss, combined with a clingy, chatterbox of a kid, had worn down Bruno's usual aloofness.

Even with a sky-high fever, he couldn't resist going back and forth with Cecilia.

"You're a real handful," Cecilia sighed. "Old wounds not even healed and you go and get yourself sick. You're harder to look after than royalty."

"When you get sick, I'll return the favor," he offered.

"Fat chance. I don't get sick, and even if I did, I wouldn't need your help!"

Drained of every ounce of strength, Bruno slipped into a fevered sleep.

Later, Cecilia brought in a basin of warm water.

She gently wiped down Bruno's hands and feet, pausing at his elegant, well-cared-for fingers. "Clearly some rich young master. If your parents saw you right now, they'd be worried sick."

Motherhood had softened her heart.

Bruno stirred in the middle of the night. His hand felt warm, held tight by another.

Turning his head, he saw Cecilia, her fingers laced with his, fast asleep with her head resting on his arm.