Chapter 12

Just as I was about to fire back, a deep, magnetic voice came from behind me.

"What’s going on here?"

Everyone turned to look. Chris stood there, wearing a custom black shirt that hugged his well-built body, his chiseled face and commanding presence drawing all the attention. His long fingers gently placed a bowl on the dining table, every movement smooth and composed.

Even Vivianne seemed mesmerized.

"Dad, we’re back. Why is she here?" Enoch immediately asked, eager for Chris to side with him.

But Chris didn’t answer. Instead, he waved a hand toward me. "Come eat."

Enoch and Vivianne exchanged confused glances, thinking Chris was calling them to the table.

"Dad, you even made us breakfast," Enoch said gratefully, starting to lead Vivianne toward the table.

Before they could get close, Chris blocked their way.

"Dad?" Enoch asked, bewildered.

Chris extended his hand again, this time more deliberately.

"Sweetheart, I’m here~" I said, beaming as I hurried to him and took his hand in front of both of them.

The look on Enoch and Vivianne’s faces—eyes wide, jaws dropping—was priceless.

"Son, care to greet your new stepmother?" I asked, my smile growing brighter.

The two of them were frozen in place, their mouths still hanging open.

Chris ignored them completely, pulling me to sit down at the table. "Eat up. The food’s getting cold."

It took Enoch a good two minutes to recover from the shock.

"What?! When—when did this happen? How is this even possible?" Enoch sputtered, his voice loud enough to carry through the room.

"On the day of the wedding, of course," I replied, savoring the sight of his disbelief.

To see Enoch, who had been so full of himself just moments ago, now gaping in shock—it was glorious.