Page 36 of The Billionaire's Distraction

Madelaine Keane.Long, nearly black hair spilled down her back, her green eyes vivid against pale skin.She wasn’t bold, not in the way she carried herself.She was cautious, hesitant almost, but her eyes…

They were fixed on Paulo.

There was confusion there—she didn’t seem to know who he was or why he was staring at her with such intensity—but she couldn’t seem to look away.She didn’t even try.

Catarina, oblivious to the silent storm brewing between them, bounced her daughter lightly and began making polite introductions.Madelaine smiled faintly, nodding at each man in turn.She didn’t extend her hand, but she acknowledged every name with quiet grace.

Yet her eyes kept drifting back to Paulo.

Tony’s lips curved in the barest ghost of a smile.Interesting.

He filed that away, a mental note for later.

But then, unbidden, Naomi slipped into his thoughts.The image of her smile, the warmth of her laugh, the stubborn tilt of her chin when she challenged him.He should have felt reassured.She was only a few doors away with the Peterson boys, safe and protected.She herself had mentioned how well-behaved they’d been lately, how their reading skills were improving by leaps and bounds.

And yet…

Tony’s shoulders tensed, that itch coming back, resting between his shoulder blades, that subtle, restless warning he’d learned long ago never to ignore.

Something was wrong.

He couldn’t prove it, couldn’t even explain it.But every instinct screamed it just the same.

Chapter 21

Naomilookedupwhenthe back door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the frame.

“Dad’s home?”Jacob’s head snapped up, crayons forgotten, and his body already in motion.Without waiting for an answer, he bolted from the table.

“Jacob!”she called after him, but she could hear his feet pattering off down the hallway.

Mark was right behind him, laughter bubbling out of his chest at the thought of seeing their father.Their excitement was immediate, total, unstoppable.

Naomi groaned silently, pressing her palms against the edge of the table for balance.Of all the times for Tom Peterson to waltz in unannounced, it had to be now—five minutes before nap time.The lesson she’d been coaxing them through, the fragile calm she’d fought for all morning, vanished in an instant.Now, the boys would be too keyed up to sleep, which meant the entire afternoon would collapse into grouchy tantrums and tears.

With a resigned sigh, she rose and followed them, leaving behind the carefully arranged play-education room.She’d spent weeks making it into a safe space—child-sized tables, colorful mats, bins of building blocks, flashcards, and art supplies.Every tool she could think of to keep the boys engaged and help undo the damage of their father’s influence.It had slowly been working.Until now.

Tom Peterson stood in the kitchen, his tie askew, hair mussed as though he’d been dragging his hands through it all morning.His mouth was tight, his whole posture wound with irritation.

“Isn’t it time for their nap?”he muttered, his voice flat, without even glancing at his sons who had run to him with wide eyes and eager smiles.

The boys faltered mid-step, their excitement dimming when their father brushed right past them.Jacob’s arms hung awkwardly in the air, half-extended, while Mark’s grin faded into a confused frown.

Naomi’s heart clenched at the sight.“Yes, sir,” she replied evenly, ushering the boys back toward the playroom with a wave of her hand, forcing calm into her tone.“Let’s get settled down, boys.”

It took much longer than usual.Jacob was twitchy, tossing the blanket off, pulling it back on, rolling to one side and then the other.Mark clutched his stuffed lion so tightly Naomi worried the seams would split.His little face was pinched with hurt.

“Is he mad at us?”Mark whispered, his lower lip trembling.

Naomi sat down beside him, smoothing the blanket over both boy and lion.“No, sweetheart.He probably just had a bad day at work.”The answer didn’t comfort him.His wide eyes searched her face, looking for something more.“You remember that day on the playground when you couldn’t reach the monkey bars?”she asked softly.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“And you were frustrated because you were too short?”

“Yeah.”His fingers tightened on the lion’s mane.

“Well, your daddy is probably feeling the same way today.Frustrated.”