**A Fathers Challenge and a Boys Heartfelt Choice**
The wealthy businessman thought it would be amusing. At a lavish party, he jokingly asked his young son to pick a new mother from the glamorous models mingling in the room. But when the boy pointed to the quiet cleaner in the corner, the room fell silent. The grand hall glittered with soft lighting, elegant music, and hollow laughtertypical of the elite playing at importance, surrounded by champagne flutes and empty conversation.
Among them, William Harrington moved effortlessly, his tailored black suit immaculate, his smile polished. No one could guess the grief he carried since losing his wife. Tonight wasnt for mourning, though. It was a charity gala hed organizedostensibly for children with rare illnesses, though everyone knew it was just another excuse for the wealthy to preen for the cameras.
William had inherited his fortune at thirty, and though hed grown accustomed to these events, nothing had stirred his heart since his wifes passing. His six-year-old son, Oliver, sat on his lap, bored, his large eyes serious. The boy rarely spoke to adults, clinging to his father instead.
To pass the time, William leaned down and whispered, “Go on then, Ollie. Which of these ladies would you like as your new mum?” Oliver blinked in confusion. William chuckled, half-joking, half-daring himself to voice the unthinkable. Before them, hired models glided past, pouring wine and posing for photosblondes, brunettes, women in dresses so tight they could barely breathe.
But Oliver didnt glance at any of them. Instead, his small finger stretched toward the corner where a young woman knelt, wiping the floor in a plain grey uniform, her hair tied back, her face free of makeup.
William frowned. “Her?” Oliver nodded, eyes fixed on her. “Why?” he pressed. The boys voice was soft but firm. “Because she looks like Mummy.”
A strange silence settled in Williams mind. He turned to study herthe way she scrubbed at a stubborn stain, unaware of being watched. She was slim, fair-skinned, with a quiet focus that felt achingly familiar. It wasnt an exact resemblance, but something in her expressionthe way she workedstirred him. Not love, not desire, but curiosity. A restless intrigue.
The night carried on, but William wasnt the same. Each time he glanced her way, she was still working, unnoticed by everyone except a grieving man and a lonely little boy. Later, he discreetly asked his assistant, Simon, to find out who she was. “Emma Carter,” Simon reported the next day. Twenty-nine. Worked two jobscleaning offices by day, event venues by nightto care for her ailing mother.
William didnt respond. He simply requested her contact details. That evening, while the world drowned in expensive dinners and weekend revelry, he stood by his study window, whisky in hand, thinking of Emma. Not romantically, not with any clear intentjust wondering why, among all those glittering women, his son had chosen the one who asked for nothing.
And for the first time in years, William wanted to know more, too.
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*[Continued in next response due to length]*
