Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: Meet Your Son

She looked down at the floor mat.

Wedged deep into the metal track of the driver's seat, barely visible in the gloom, was a tiny flash of red. A Lego brick.

Her breath hitched. She glanced at the rearview mirror. Julian was merging into traffic, his eyes scanning the side mirrors. Serena was scrolling on her phone, muttering about reservations.

Elara slowly, carefully, reached down. She pretended to adjust her boot. Her fingers scraped against the grease of the seat track as she pried the sharp plastic loose. She shoved it into her coat pocket.

"What are you doing back there?" Julian asked.

Elara froze. "Nothing. Just... my shoelace."

Serena turned around, peering over the headrest. "You're so fidgety, Elara. It's making me nervous."

Elara gripped the Lego in her pocket until it hurt. "Sorry."

The radio was on low. A news anchor's voice cut through the tension. "...Nebula Systems announced a surprise angel investment today, stabilizing their stock after rumors of..."

Julian reached out and turned the radio off.

Elara bit her lip. Nebula. Her company. Or rather, the company she had built from the ground up in the shadows, hiding behind shell corporations and NDAs.

"Nebula," Serena mused. "That's the AI firm, right? I heard they have a chaotic management structure. But good tech."

"It's a solid investment," Julian said flatly.

"You invested?" Serena asked, surprised.

"Diversification," he said.

Elara looked out the window to hide her expression. He had invested? Julian was the angel investor?

"So, Elara," Julian said, his eyes finding hers in the mirror again. "Are you still wasting your time at that library in Queens?"

The lie tasted like ash in her mouth. "Yes. The public branch. It's... quiet."

Julian's jaw tightened. A muscle feathered in his cheek. "A quiet place for a mind like yours to rot," he murmured, almost to himself. "I thought you had more ambition than stamping due dates."

Elara flushed. He didn't know. He couldn't know that she was the lead architect behind the very system he had just invested in. "It pays the bills," she said softly.

"That sounds quaint," Serena said, her tone dripping with condescension.

They pulled up to the curb of the Four Seasons. Serena's hotel.

Julian put the car in park. He got out and walked around to open Serena's door.

"Thank you, Julian," Serena purred. She stood up, smoothing her skirt. Then, she leaned in. She kissed his cheek, lingering just a second too long. Her hand rested on his chest.

Elara looked away. She focused on a stain on the back of the driver's seat.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the office?" Serena asked.

"7 AM," Julian said.

Serena walked into the hotel, hips swaying.

Julian got back into the car. The silence returned, heavier than before. He didn't put the car in gear. He turned in his seat, draping his arm over the steering wheel to look at Elara in the back.

"Get in the front," he said.

"I'm fine here."

"I am not your chauffeur, Elara. Get in the front."

"It's a ten-minute drive to-"

"Now."

Elara opened the door. The cold air hit her face again. She walked to the passenger side and sat down. The seat was still warm from Serena's body. The smell of sandalwood was suffocating.

Julian put the car in drive. He didn't head toward the Queensboro Bridge immediately. He turned north.

"This isn't the way to my apartment," Elara said.

"We need to talk," Julian said.

"About what?"

"About why my wife is living in a walk-up in Queens when I own three empty penthouses in Manhattan."

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