Billionaire’s Surprise Heir: She Calls Me Mommy

Sara's fingers flew across the keyboard, her narrowed gaze fixed on the screen as she watched the tables take shape. She had tied her hair up into a bun that was held in place by two ball points form her pen holder. She had been working tirelessly on the overall timetable and event plan, but no matter how many drafts she submitted, the boss rejected them all. The constant disapproval made her itch with frustration.

"Buzz—Buzz."

Her phone vibrated persistently on her desk, just within arm's reach, scraping at her nerves. But she ignored it, determined to finish the last few sections of her task before anything else. With aggressive typing and a few pained expressions, she finally slammed the Enter key with all her might, a victorious smile stretching across her face. Her eyes gleamed with joy as she pushed herself away from the desk, her chair rolling back like a swing. With a deep, relieved breath, the stress lines on her forehead finally began to fade.

"Done at last," she sighed happily, watching from a distance as the email was sent to her boss.

Only then did her attention shift to her phone, which had rung five times in the past hour. She had ignored it to stay focused, but now, just before it could go to voicemail, she picked it up.

"Hello, Jenny!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

"Sara, I've been calling you for two hours! Why weren't you picking up? Where are you?! Don't tell me you're still getting ready!" Jenny's furious voice blasted through the speaker, making Sara frown.

Wait… was she forgetting something?

"Oh! I'm sorry, I—" Sara froze. "I mean, I was—"

"Don't tell me you forgot about Ashley's birthday!" Jenny gasped, immediately catching on to her hesitation.

Sara's eyes widened in horror. "It's today?" she blurted, shooting up from her chair, already grabbing her bag and jacket in a frenzy.

"When else do you think it is?! Do you know how terribly late we already are?!" Jenny shrieked, sounding like she was ready to strangle someone.

"I'm so, so sorry! I got caught up at the office! I'll be there in ten minutes, I promise!" Sara apologized profusely, bolting out of the office.

At that exact moment, a ding from her computer signaled that the boss had responded to her email—but she was already halfway down the hallway, running at full speed.

The manager watched in mild amusement (and concern) as she plowed through half the employees in the building, bumping into desks, chairs, and even the water cooler.

"Slow down, Sara!" he called out.

Without missing a beat, Sara shot him a desperate look, ran a finger across her throat in a 'I'm dead' gesture, and kept sprinting.

Blue watched the city blur past the car window, her small face pressed against the cool glass. The sky deepened into an inky blue, and one by one, tiny star-like lights flickered to life, dotting the skyline like scattered diamonds.

Beside her, Sofia was typing away on her laptop, not sparing her daughter so much as a glance. The rhythmic clacking of keys filled the silence between them, blending with the distant hum of traffic.

As the night settled in, the lights from the towering buildings outside grew even brighter, their reflections shimmering in Blue's wide eyes. She barely blinked, mesmerized by the way the city seemed to glow in the dark.

Soon, the car slowed, pulling up to the entrance of an upscale hotel—the venue for their family dinner. The moment the vehicle came to a stop, a staff member opened the door for her. Blue carefully stepped out, smoothing the front of her dress with tiny, deliberate pats. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile back onto her face.

She was about to see her father.She had to be happy.

Sofia stepped out next, pausing briefly to take in the sight of the grand hotel. Her gaze lingered on the towering structure, her chest rising and falling with a slow, measured breath. Then, without a word, she turned toward the entrance.

"Come on," she said.

Blue nodded quickly and followed, her small feet hurrying to keep up.

The elevator was exclusively reserved for them, with servants waiting by the doors that led to the private dining area—reserved only for the most distinguished guests.

Blue stood beside her mother, two guards flanking them at all times. She watched the numbers above the door change, rocking slightly on her tiptoes as she counted along. The anticipation made her fidgety, her small hands clasping and unclasping as the floors ticked by.

When they finally reached the thirtieth floor, the elevator chimed softly before the doors slid open. Another row of servants stood at attention, their heads bowed in silent formality. One of them stepped forward, offering to lift Blue so she wouldn't have to walk.

But Sofia's sharp gaze cut through the gesture.

"She can walk."

Her tone was cold, final. The servant immediately stepped back. Blue glanced up at her mother's face, only to find an unforgiving expression staring back at her. The unspoken reprimand settled deep in her chest like a weight, making her drop her gaze in silent guilt—as if she'd done something wrong just by existing.

But that feeling didn't last long.

Because the moment the dining room doors opened, all she saw was him.

A figure sat elegantly at the head of the table, poised like a king in his throne. His sleek black hair—just like hers—framed a face carved with striking, godlike perfection. Beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, his sharp features cast an air of untouchable grace. He moved with effortless precision, his slender fingers cutting into his food with the kind of elegance that didn't need to be taught.

Her father.

"Dada!"

Blue's entire face lit up as she threw her hands into the air, dashing toward him with unrestrained joy.

Sofia froze. Her eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting this reaction. Instinctively, she reached out, almost lunging to catch Blue before she reached Augustine.

But it was too late.

Just before Blue could touch him, one of the guards standing beside him intercepted her mid-stride, lifting her off the ground like she was nothing more than a misplaced object. Her small feet kicked in the air for a moment before she stilled, her wide, confused eyes turning to the guard.

"Huh?"

She blinked, the heartbreak settling in all at once.

Across the table, Augustine slowly turned his gaze to Sofia, his expression unreadable—but his eyes said everything.

Sofia's breath hitched.

"I—I didn't know she would react like that," she murmured, quickly walking to the table. She barely heard the scrape of the chair as the guards pulled out a seat for Blue, placing her gently onto the cushion. Sofia took the seat across from her, swallowing down the weight of that look Augustine had given her.

Blue sat still, her little fists clenched tightly in her lap.

She said nothing.

But the way her tiny shoulders tensed and the way her gaze stayed fixed on the plate in front of her spoke volumes.

She was hurt. 

"You want me to believe you didn't teach her all this?"

Augustine barely spared Sofia a glance as he carelessly picked up his fork, resuming his meal as if their conversation was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. His words were dry, almost dismissive, but they cut sharper than any accusation.

Sofia swallowed hard, her throat tightening. She wanted to respond—to defend herself—but before she could even find the words, his cold voice silenced her.

"I don't want to see this happy family drama again."

He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.

"I made it clear on the first day of our marriage, and I'm tired of reminding you over and over again."

There wasn't a flicker of warmth, not a single ounce of hesitation in his tone. He spoke as if any form of emotion toward his family was a waste of time.

Sofia turned to him, studying his face, hoping—praying—for even the slightest sign of strain, the smallest crack in his carefully sculpted exterior.

Nothing.

Not a single muscle moved out of place.

He acted as if neither of them existed.

Across the table, Blue sat in silence, her small frame unnaturally still. She had been through these dinners too many times to count, She had believed, even for a second, that things could be different if she tried to hug her parents. Her friend had told her once—bright-eyed and confident—that whenever her father was angry, a hug always made things better.

Blue had believed her.

But that wasn't true. Not for her.

The fairy wand in her small hand trembled slightly as her fingers tightened around it. In her other hand, she clenched a handful of sheer organza from her dress, twisting the delicate fabric between her fingers, her throat aching as if she was being choked by an invisible wire. 

Augustine had started eating long before their arrival, so naturally, he finished first. Without a word, he tapped his lips with a handkerchief, placed it neatly on the table, and rose from his seat.

"Father will be waiting for us at the mansion. I have a meeting and will meet you in the car in an hour or two. Enjoy your meal."

His tone was formal, indifferent—as if they were mere acquaintances rather than family. He left without a single glance back, without acknowledging anyone or anything beyond his own schedule.

In that moment Sofia's phone rang and her gaze moved to her phone,

Blue instinctively turned in her seat, her wide eyes following his tall figure as he walked away. 

Her small hands, which had been clenched tightly, suddenly relaxed. This was her chance.

In an instant, she sprang from her seat.

"Miss?" A servant called out in confusion as if trying to see if anyone else had noticed the sudden action, Sofia didn't seem to have noticed it as she was frowning at her phone. Blue instantly slipped out of the almost shutting door.

She had to reach him. Tonight, she would hug him and everything would be alright.

The hallway was nearly empty. She ran.

Ahead, the elevator doors had just begun to close, and Augustine seemingly caught a glimpse of her as he lifted his gaze from the file he was reading. 

No!

She pushed herself faster, but her small legs couldn't carry her quickly enough. The doors sealed shut with an unforgiving finality, locking Augustine away from her once more. "Dada!" She called out. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat.

But she wasn't giving up.

Determined, she spun around, spotting another elevator nearby. Without hesitation, she darted inside and slammed the button for the ground floor.

"Miss, stop!" a servant's voice called out, panic lacing his tone.

But Blue didn't listen.

She pressed the "close" button over and over, her tiny fingers jamming against it desperately. The doors slid shut right before the servant could reach her, sealing her inside.

Outside, chaos erupted.

The servants scrambled, pressing the button repeatedly, but the elevator didn't respond. A few immediately took off toward the stairwell, while another rushed to contact the reception.

But in mere seconds, Blue had disappeared from the face of the hotel.