THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 104: To Steal A Kiss

Chapter 104: To Steal A Kiss

"I’ll make cupcakes with daddy too." Alex grinned up at her, his hands covered in flour.

Heather sighed dramatically. "And I’ll miss that?"

Alex nodded eagerly.

She smiled, running her fingers through his soft hair. She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I wish I could stay. But I really have to go. You’ll save me one, right?"

"Two!" he declared with full sincerity.

Heather laughed. "Even better."

She turned toward the door, her fingers already brushing the handle and twisting it. But before she could take a step, Alex called out again.

"Aren’t you going to kiss Daddy too?"

Heather stopped mid-stride.

She paused.

A too-long pause.

Then she turned back slowly, her expression schooled into a light and practiced smile. "He doesn’t like kisses. Isn’t that right, Caius?" Her tone was sweet, but her stare—that was a command.

But Caius, of course, disobeyed.

"I don’t mind," he said smoothly, glancing at Alex with a wink.

Heather’s smile stiffened.

"Since when?" she asked sharply. "You used to say my kisses irritated you."

Caius gave a lazy shrug before moving closer. "I don’t recall saying that. Actually," he looked straight at her, "I’d like a kiss now."

Heather narrowed her eyes. She could see what he was doing—and he knew she could see it.

"Alex?" Caius went on, his voice a bit playful. "Should your mom kiss me goodbye?"

"Yes!" Alex giggled, wrapping his hands over his mouth in excitement.

Heather clenched her jaw and her lips pressed into a thin line.

She knew this game. Caius was using Alex as a trap to steal a kiss from her.

And she wasn’t going to fall for it.

"I’m late," she muttered, turning away. "I have to go—"

But before she could take another step, Caius’s hand caught her wrist.

Then he pulled her in.

And kissed her.

Firm, demanding, and unapologetic.

Her breath hitched—just for a second. Her mind whirled, unable to catch up. His arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her flush against him.

His mouth devoured hers. There was nothing tentative in it. It wasn’t teasing—but rather claiming. And it was obvious he had been starved for it.

Heather’s pulse surged. Her fingers dug into his shirt—not to hold him, but to push. And break the heat of the moment, to shove herself out of it.

Caius deepened the kiss, he knew he had cracked her defenses.

That was when she snapped. Her hands shoved hard at his chest.

He stumbled back, laughing breathlessly.

Heather’s expression was murder.

"Hmm, soft."

"How dare you do that without my permission?" Her voice cut like glass, trembling—not with fear, but fury.

She gripped the front of his shirt, her fists balled tight and she brought it to his face. Even in heels, she had to lift onto her toes to meet his gaze.

Caius raised both hands in mock surrender, that same infuriating smirk was still painted on his face.

And that was what drove her over the edge.

That arrogant glint that she had interpreted as: he had won.

"We’re married," he murmured in a low and maddening voice. "It’s bound to happen."

Her glare tightened. "What did I tell you about this ridiculous marriage?" she hissed through gritted teeth, dropping her voice so Alex wouldn’t hear. Her words were tight, every syllable was dipped in venom.

Caius, hands still raised, leaned forward ever so slightly.

But she instinctively shifted back.

"You’re very hostile," he said softly, tapping a finger against her forehead. "Do you want to take this to the bedroom?"

She went perfectly still. Her cheeks flushed not from embarrassment, but anger. She stared at him with a glare that he interpreted he had just committed a federal crime.

"Don’t push me," she said in a low, lethal whisper. "Don’t. Push. Me."

She pressed her palm against his face and pushed him back with hard force.

Caius chuckled.

Heather turned without another word and left the kitchen.

Alex, oblivious to the tension that had just boiled over, he called out behind her:

"Bye, Mommy!"

But she didn’t look back.

...

Heather stepped out of the mansion, the cool night air brushing against her skin, but it did little to cool the heat still lingering from that kiss.

She pressed her fingers against her lips absentmindedly, as if checking if they were truly as soft as Caius had said.

She didn’t like him for that.

Not because it was bad—far from it. But because she was already caught between trying to meet Alex’s ever-looming expectations and not spiraling too deep into whatever twisted game she and Caius were playing.

...

The limo was cold enough to sting.

Heather sat upright, her chin tilted as Penny leaned in, brushing highlighter across her cheekbone with a steady hand and an even steadier scowl.

"I still think it’s ridiculous," Penny muttered, her eyes narrowed slightly. "You get attacked by a horde of glittery jackals, and no one bats a lash."

Heather didn’t reply. Her gaze was fixed on the window, watching the streets blur by.

Manager Sheng sat across from them, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

They’d been going back and forth over the same thing for a long time now, and he was trying to erase the conversation altogether.

"We told you, Penny. Lauren gave the green light. Her people let them in. Security didn’t stop them because they weren’t told to. I only found out when it was already happening."

"So where was she?" Penny shot back. "Hiding in a prop closet while her fangirls turned the whole company into a riot scene?"

Sheng sighed. "I looked for her, but she was gone. Trust me—I was ready to corner her. She vanished. You think I liked cleaning up that mess?"

Penny glanced at Heather through the mirror. "So now she’s throwing a party? That’s supposed to fix things?"

Sheng didn’t respond right away. Instead, he pulled out his phone, to double-checked something, then said:

"She called me this morning. Said she wanted to smooth things over. She even set up a production after-party. And said it was about healing the image and rebuilding rapport."

Penny scoffed. "She better be healing it with a public apology and a bouquet of lavender-scented lawyers, or I’m dragging her with my troll account."