My Child and I Married a Billionaire

The darkness and quiet amplified his senses. Soon, Damien Vaughn once again caught the familiar scent wafting from Cecelia Archer.

The faint fragrance captivated him, intoxicated him, and relaxed him. He found himself unconsciously wanting to draw closer to Cecelia Archer, to pull her into a tight embrace.

But reality wouldn’t allow it.

Damien Vaughn desperately suppressed his urges. Forcing his eyes shut, he tried to make himself sleep. Gradually, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

Likewise, Cecelia Archer also caught his familiar scent.

She had thought she would hate it, would feel repulsed. She’d assumed that lying next to him would be so nauseating she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

But not long after she lay down, her eyelids grew heavy, her body relaxed, and she drifted off to sleep.

She woke up from the heat.

Cecelia Archer instinctively kicked at the blanket and tried to turn over, only to find herself pinned by a pair of strong arms.

When she looked up, she was met with Damien Vaughn’s warm breath and hard chin.

Even though it was too dark to see his expression, Cecelia Archer was startled. She hurriedly tried to wriggle out of his arms, and the movement woke Damien Vaughn.

"What’s wrong?"

His voice was still clouded with sleep, laced with a deep, incredibly magnetic rasp.

Cecelia Archer’s face burned as she scrambled out of bed.

"I’ll see what time it is. I think we overslept."

She got out of bed, grabbed her phone, and saw it was indeed late—already past 8:00 PM.

They had slept for a solid six or seven hours.

Cecelia Archer was frustrated.

’I was planning on returning to Veridia tonight. After all this delay, will I even be able to find a ride?’

Damien Vaughn sat up slowly. He got out of bed, walking past Cecelia Archer to pull open the curtains.

The sky outside wasn’t much brighter than the room. Distant lights twinkled like stars, a sign of how late it had gotten.

He, however, was quite satisfied.

"What time is it?"

"8:20 PM," Cecelia Archer said, scrolling through a rideshare app on her phone.

"I don’t know if I can get us a ride, but I’ll do my best to get you back tonight."

"Get a ride in this godforsaken place?" Damien Vaughn, feeling content and well-rested, stretched his arms leisurely.

"If we really can’t go back, then so be it. I’m not blaming you. I’m hungry. Let’s find a place to eat first."

’He used to be so particular about his time. Even on business trips, he’d race against the clock to finish his work and rush back. Why is he so relaxed today?’

However, Cecelia Archer couldn’t just ask him directly.

"I have things to do. I have to get back tonight. I’ll check if there’s a train station nearby and if I can buy tickets."

As she was about to continue scrolling on her phone, Damien Vaughn suddenly walked over and snatched it from her.

"Did you not hear me? I said I’m hungry. Trains are filthy and disgusting. I’m not riding one."

Cecelia Archer said, "...How about we call Ryan? We could ask him to make the trip out here."

Damien Vaughn replied without a second thought, "Ryan has important matters to attend to. He’s not in Veridia today."

"Then..."

"What does it matter to you whether I go back or not? Right now, I’m hungry and I don’t have any money. Is it that hard to treat me to a meal?"

Cecelia Archer was left speechless. She had no choice but to go out with him for now.

When the two of them went downstairs, the proprietress stood up, her enthusiasm blazing.

"Sleep well? You two look so refreshed! You must have had a great night’s sleep. Our little inn isn’t too bad, is it? It’s so late now, there are no rides available. Why don’t you just stay another night?"

Damien Vaughn handed the phone back to Cecelia Archer, tacitly accepting the proprietress’s pitch.

"Extend our stay."

Cecelia Archer couldn’t believe he had gotten addicted to staying in this run-down inn. He actually wanted to stay another night!

She was in no mood to stay here with him. Unwilling to give up, she asked the proprietress,

"Is there a train station nearby? Or any taxis we can hail? I have urgent business."

"Oh, no, we don’t have anything like that," the proprietress said. "This is just a small town without many permanent residents, so taxis don’t usually come out this way unless they have a fare. The nearest train station is a good fifty or sixty kilometers away... What’s so urgent? Your husband is right here, isn’t he? If he’s not in a hurry, why are you?"

Cecelia Archer was speechless.

’Even if we don’t have to leave tonight, we’ll have to figure out transportation tomorrow. We can’t just be stuck here forever, can we?’

Seeing the worried look on her face, Damien Vaughn impatiently tapped his fingers on the table.

"Let’s worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Can you stop dawdling?"

Cecelia Archer had no choice but to pay the proprietress for another night.

The two of them walked down the empty street. Most of the shops were closed, but then she saw the beef noodle soup shop again.

"How about another bowl of noodles?"

"And you call me cheap? You’re not so generous yourself. No."

Damien Vaughn walked right past the noodle shop.

Cecelia Archer followed behind him, staring at his straight, arrogant back. She was utterly speechless.

’That bastard. That soulless capitalist. I never should have come out with him!’

The two continued to wander aimlessly down the street.

The place may have been remote and sparsely populated, but it had its perks.

It was quiet, the air was fresh, and there were barely any cars on the road.

They walked one after the other under the dim yellow glow of the streetlights. The night breeze was cool, and it almost felt like a leisurely stroll.

After about ten minutes of walking, they finally spotted a restaurant with its sign still lit. Damien Vaughn stopped in his tracks.

"We’re eating here."

They went inside, and Damien Vaughn ordered four dishes in one go, leaving Cecelia Archer speechless once again.

’We just ate before our nap, and we didn’t get any exercise. All we did was sleep, and now he’s ordering this much? Does he really have that big of an appetite?’

In fact, Damien Vaughn had no appetite at all.

When the food arrived, he took a few bites of each dish before putting down his chopsticks and ordering Cecelia Archer,

"You finish all of this."

Just as Cecelia Archer was about to argue that she couldn’t possibly eat that much, he added with callous cruelty,

"Can’t you even get a decent meal with Shane Grant? Look at you, you’re as skinny as a rail. It’s hideous."

Cecelia Archer wanted to spit the mouthful of food right in his face!

’If you think I’m so hideous, why are you keeping me here? Gwen Morgan is the beautiful one, so why don’t you go home to her!’

As if he could read her mind, Damien Vaughn glanced at her expression.

"Wipe that look off your face. Aren’t you the one who caused this whole mess? Keep me happy, and I won’t hold it against you. But if you piss me off..."

"I know, I know. You’re rich and powerful, Mr. Big Shot. You can make the Grant Group go bankrupt whenever you feel like it."

Cecelia Archer retorted irritably and went back to eating.

As the restaurant neared closing time, they were the only two customers left. The owner, having finished cleaning the back kitchen, came over to chat.

"You two obviously aren’t from around here. Where’d you come from? What brings you to our neck of the woods? How old are you? What do you do for work? How long have you been married?"

Cecelia Archer was baffled. ’Do Damien Vaughn and I really look that much like a couple? Why does everyone keep saying that?’

She hated when people misunderstood their relationship. Just as she was about to answer the owner, Damien Vaughn cut in.

"Why don’t you guess?"

"I’d guess... you’ve been married for some time now."

The owner chuckled, speaking in what he clearly thought was a very clever tone.

"The way you two interact is so natural and easy. You don’t seem like newlyweds."

Damien Vaughn regarded him for a moment before speaking slowly.

"What makes you so sure we’re a married couple? Couldn’t we be siblings, or colleagues?"

"Siblings and colleagues don’t have that kind of vibe. I may not have traveled much, but I’ve been running this restaurant for over twenty years. I’ve seen a lot of people, and I trust my intuition. So, young man, just tell me if I’m right."

Damien Vaughn wasn’t sure how the man could tell, but he liked what he heard. He smiled and raised the disposable paper teacup in his hand in a small toast.

"You’ve got a good eye."

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