C2 Chapter two: Mommy, Are we Rich?

THE BILLION

“Mommy, I think our apartment needs a swimming pool.”

Elizabeth Carter nearly choked on her coffee.

She turned from the kitchen counter to stare at her five-year-old daughter, who sat at the small dining table wearing a pink sweater, her blonde curls tied into two uneven ponytails.

“A swimming pool?” Elizabeth repeated.

Grace nodded seriously. “Yes. Sophie at school says her house has one. She says she can swim whenever she wants.”

“And what would we do with a swimming pool in our apartment, sweetheart? Put it in the living room?”

Grace considered this.

“Maybe in the kitchen?”

Elizabeth burst out laughing.

For a few precious seconds, the previous day's encounter with Alexander Hayes disappeared from her mind.

Almost.

“Come on, little dreamer. Finish your breakfast. We have a busy day.”

Grace picked up her spoon, then looked up again.

“Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“Are we rich?”

Elizabeth blinked. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you work a lot. And you buy me strawberry yogurt.”

Elizabeth smiled and brushed a crumb from her daughter's cheek.

“No, baby. We're not rich. But we have everything we need.”

Grace thought about that for a moment.

“Then when I grow up, I'll buy you a swimming pool.”

Elizabeth leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan.”

She didn't tell Grace that there were mornings when she worried about rent, clients who paid late, and bills that seemed to multiply overnight.

She didn't tell her that building a new life in New York had been harder than she'd ever imagined.

And she certainly didn't tell her that yesterday, she had come face-to-face with the man who had haunted her dreams for five years.

Alexander Hayes.

Just thinking about him made her stomach tighten.

She had spent years learning how to live without him. She had built a career, raised a daughter, and convinced herself that the past no longer mattered.

Yet one look at him had brought everything rushing back.

His cold expression.

His accusing voice.

The way he had looked at Grace.

Elizabeth gripped the edge of the counter.

He couldn't know.

Not yet.

Perhaps not ever.

“Mommy, you're doing it again.”

Elizabeth looked down.

“Doing what?”

“Looking like you ate a lemon.”

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“Finish your breakfast, Miss Funny.”

---

By nine o'clock, Elizabeth had dropped Grace off at school and arrived at a luxurious apartment on Manhattan's Upper East Side.

Her client, Mrs. Whitmore, was renovating a penthouse overlooking Central Park, and Elizabeth had been hired to redesign the living room and master bedroom.

This was the kind of work she loved.

Choosing colors. Arranging furniture. Turning empty spaces into homes.

She had worked hard to build her reputation as a private interior designer, starting with small projects and gradually earning referrals from wealthy clients.

It wasn't easy, but every successful project brought her one step closer to the security she wanted for herself and Grace.

“Elizabeth, darling!” Mrs. Whitmore called as she entered the living room. “Tell me you've found the perfect fabric.”

Elizabeth opened her sample folder.

“I have three options for you.”

For the next hour, she focused on the project, discussing textures, lighting, and furniture placement. By the time she left, Mrs. Whitmore had approved the main design and promised to recommend her to two friends.

It was exactly the kind of morning Elizabeth needed.

A reminder that she was more than a woman who had once been abandoned by a billionaire.

She was talented. Independent.

And she was doing just fine without Alexander Hayes.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

---

Across the city, Alexander Hayes stood in his office on the forty-second floor of Hayes Tower, staring at a photograph on his phone.

His private investigator had worked quickly.

Elizabeth Carter. Twenty-eight years old. American citizen. Interior designer. Recently returned to New York after living abroad.

And one daughter.

Grace Carter.

Age: five.

Alexander set the phone on his desk.

Five years.

The numbers wouldn't leave him alone.

He remembered the night he had spent with Elizabeth, the way she had looked at him when he told her he wanted to see her again.

Then came the business scandal.

Confidential documents from a major Hayes Group acquisition had been leaked to a competitor. Evidence had pointed toward Elizabeth, and Alexander had believed she was responsible.

He had confronted her, and she had denied everything.

He hadn't listened.

He had told her never to contact him again.

But he had never known she was pregnant.

Had he?

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

Richard Hayes walked into the office without waiting for permission.

Alexander's stepbrother wore an expensive charcoal suit and the easy smile of a man who had never doubted his own charm.

“Brother,” Richard said. “You look as though someone died.”

“I'm working.”

“Clearly. You've been staring at the same papers for twenty minutes.”

Alexander closed the file on his desk.

“Did you know Elizabeth Carter had returned to New York?”

For the briefest moment, Richard's smile faltered.

Then it returned.

“Elizabeth Carter? That name takes me back.”

“Answer the question.”

“No. Why would I know where she is?”

Alexander studied him.

Richard had always been good at appearing innocent.

Too good, sometimes.

“I saw her yesterday,” Alexander said. “She has a daughter.”

Richard's expression remained carefully blank.

“Congratulations to her.”

“She's five years old.”

Silence.

Only for a second, but Alexander noticed.

Richard adjusted his cuff.

“And?”

Alexander leaned forward.

“And I want to know why Elizabeth disappeared without a word.”

Richard gave a quiet, dismissive laugh.

“Perhaps she finally realized she wasn't suited to your world.”

“Get out, Richard.”

His stepbrother raised both hands.

“Of course. But a word of advice? The board is already questioning your judgment. Don't let an old girlfriend distract you from the company.”

Richard turned toward the door.

Then he paused.

“Some people belong in the past, Alexander. It's better to leave them there.”

The door closed behind him.

Alexander remained still, replaying the conversation in his mind.

For the first time, he wondered why Richard had reacted so strangely to the mention of Elizabeth's daughter.

He picked up his phone and called his investigator.

“I want a full report on Elizabeth's life over the last five years,” he ordered. “And I want to know everything about Grace Carter.”

He hesitated.

“Especially her school.”

---

That evening, Elizabeth sat on the living-room floor helping Grace assemble a puzzle.

Grace held up a piece shaped like a tiny blue house.

“Mommy, look! Our dream house!”

Elizabeth smiled.

“It's beautiful.”

“Will we live in a big house one day?”

“Maybe.”

“With a swimming pool?”

Elizabeth laughed. “You haven't forgotten that, have you?”

“Never!”

Grace threw her arms around her mother's neck.

Elizabeth hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of strawberry shampoo.

Whatever happened, she would protect this little girl.

She would never let anyone make Grace feel unwanted.

Not even Alexander Hayes.

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table.

An unfamiliar number.

Elizabeth frowned and answered.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Carter?” a man's voice asked. “I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Alexander Hayes.”

Her entire body went still.

“Why?”

“Mr. Hayes would like to arrange a meeting with you.”

Elizabeth looked at Grace, who was humming happily over her puzzle.

“No,” she said firmly. “Tell him I have nothing to discuss with him.”

“Ms. Carter, he specifically asked—”

“I said no.”

She ended the call.

For several seconds, she stared at the phone.

Then she turned it facedown and returned to her daughter.

But across Manhattan, Alexander Hayes was already making another call.

This time, he wasn't calling Elizabeth.

He was calling Grace's school.

And he had no intention of waiting for permission to find out whether the little girl was his daughter.