The billionaire's unexpected heir.

Mia Carter moved through the café with practiced ease, balancing a tray of steaming coffee cups while dodging a rushing barista. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the sound of chatter and clinking cups. The morning rush had dwindled into a manageable rhythm, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

She tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear, already thinking about the pile of bills waiting for her at home. Just a few more shifts, she told herself. One day at a time.

The soft chime of the bell above the door signaled a new customer, but Mia barely looked up. She was too busy wiping down the counter, her focus on keeping herself moving. Stillness made room for thoughts, and thoughts were dangerous.

Then, she heard it.

A deep, smooth voice ordered an espresso, and every muscle in her body froze.

Her heart stopped.

Mia's hand tightened around the damp cloth as a wave of pure dread crawled up her spine. That voice-it had been years, four to be exact-but she could never forget it. Slowly, her gaze lifted, and when her eyes landed on the man standing at the counter, her entire world tilted.

Ethan Blackwell.

He was impossible to miss. The sharp lines of his black suit emphasized his broad shoulders and lean frame, exuding wealth and authority. His dark hair was immaculately styled, and his sharp jawline carried the faintest dusting of stubble. But it was his eyes, those stormy blue eyes that had haunted her dreams, that pinned her in place.

Ethan. The man she had spent one reckless, unforgettable night with. The man who had disappeared without a trace, leaving her to pick up the pieces.

The man who had no idea he had a son.

Her breath caught as she took him in. Time had only made him more striking, more dangerous. And judging by the way his piercing gaze roamed over her, he recognized her too.

Mia's stomach twisted painfully. He remembers me.

Ethan's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes. Something dark, calculating. When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth, yet laced with an edge she couldn't define.

"Long time, Mia."

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She forced a tight, uneasy smile, her fingers gripping the counter like a lifeline. "Ethan... what a surprise."

"A surprise?" He tilted his head slightly, studying her with unnerving intensity. "That's an understatement, don't you think?"

Mia swallowed hard. She couldn't do this. Not here, not now. The walls of the café suddenly felt smaller, closing in around her.

Ethan leaned on the counter, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to dissect her. "Didn't expect to see me again?"

Mia let out a shaky laugh, the sound hollow in her ears. "Not exactly. Last I checked, you weren't the coffee shop type."

His lips curved into a faint smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. "People change."

Not enough, she thought bitterly. Not enough to prepare for what was about to happen next.

Before she could come up with an excuse to leave, a soft giggle sounded behind her.

Mia froze.

Her three-year-old son, Oliver, came skipping into the café, his tiny sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor. His dark curls bounced with each step as he made his way toward her, his chubby hands clutching a crayon drawing.

"Mommy!" he called, his voice bright and cheerful. He ran straight to her, wrapping his small arms around her leg.

Mia's heart plummeted to her stomach.

Ethan's entire body went rigid. She could feel his gaze shift from her to the child clinging to her side.

The café seemed to fall into a suffocating silence, the hum of voices and clatter of dishes fading into the background.

Mia forced herself to look at Ethan, praying he wouldn't notice. But when her eyes met his, she saw the exact moment realization dawned. His gaze locked onto Oliver, and something dark flickered in his expression.

Oliver peeked up at her, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Mommy, who's that man?"

Ethan's jaw tightened, his stormy eyes boring into hers.

"Mia," he said quietly, his voice like the calm before a storm, "why does he look like me?"

Mia felt the weight of Ethan's question settle over her like a suffocating blanket.

Her fingers dug into the counter as her mind raced for an answer, but nothing came. There was no easy way out of this, no excuse that could explain away the resemblance staring Ethan in the face.

Oliver, blissfully unaware of the tension tightening around them, tugged at the hem of her apron. His bright smile and innocent tone were like a cruel reminder of the storm brewing around her. "Mommy, I'm hungry."

Mia swallowed hard, her throat dry. She forced a smile down at him, running a shaky hand through his soft curls. "I'll get you something in a minute, sweetheart."

But Ethan wasn't letting this go.

His piercing blue eyes-the same striking blue Oliver had inherited-bore into her like they could strip away every lie and shield she had built over the years. He wasn't just asking a question; he was demanding the truth.

And if she didn't give it to him, he would find it out himself.

"I asked you a question, Mia," Ethan said, his voice low and controlled, though the fury beneath it rippled like an approaching tsunami.

Mia's stomach twisted as she took a shaky breath. "It's... complicated."

Ethan's jaw tightened, his features sharp as granite. "Complicated? Really? Because to me, it looks pretty damn simple." He stepped closer, his towering frame radiating a presence that made her feel small, cornered. "He looks exactly like me."

The words sliced through her, leaving her scrambling for something, anything, to say.

"Ethan, please," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"How old is he?" he pressed, his tone as cold as the stare pinning her to the spot.

Her lips parted, but the answer refused to come. She knew that no matter what she said, the timeline would betray her. There was no hiding the truth anymore.

"Three," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan inhaled sharply, and Mia watched as his expression darkened. She could see the gears turning in his head, his sharp mind piecing together what she had fought to keep hidden.

Three years old.

A one-night stand four years ago.

The math wasn't hard.

A flicker of shock passed across Ethan's face, quickly replaced by something darker-anger, disbelief, betrayal. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously calm, the kind of calm that promised a storm.

"Is he mine?"

Mia felt the ground beneath her shift, like the universe had suddenly tilted out of alignment.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and every fiber of her being screamed to lie, to protect the life she had built. But the truth clawed its way out, leaving no room for escape.

"Yes."

The single word hung in the air, heavy and damning.

Ethan's entire body went rigid.

And that was when Mia knew-her carefully built world was about to come crashing down.