My Child and I Married a Billionaire

Chapter 20: Used and Discarded?

Editor: Henyee Translations

Rocky was only four years old. His attention shifted instantly. Sniffling, he accepted the candies and wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

"I’ve never won first place before." His eyes lit up. "You promised!" He pointed at Cecelia and Damien. "So you have to help me win. No cheating!"

Cecelia laughed. "No cheating." She patted his head. "Leave it to us."

Truthfully, since Candy hadn’t officially started preschool yet, Cecelia had never attended a parent-child event before. She had absolutely no idea what to expect.

Still, she glanced at Damien. Tall. Athletic. Young. Handsome. Whatever challenges lay ahead, surely he could handle them.

"Looks like I’m relying on you again today." She smiled. "Good luck."

Damien didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected a sales pitch to somehow evolve into helping a client at a kindergarten sports day. If he’d known this was where things were headed, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to come.

Children’s events were not his idea of fun. Unfortunately, it was too late to back out now.

The moment they entered the venue with Rocky, they became the center of attention. Particularly among the children. A group of curious kids immediately swarmed around them.

"Rocky!"

"Who are they?"

"Do they work for your dad?"

One little girl stared openly at Damien. "They’re so pretty!"

Another child pointed excitedly. "Are they your parents today?"

Rocky puffed out his chest proudly. "Yep! My dad sent them." He grabbed Damien’s hand possessively. "They’re my parents for today." Then he grinned. "And I think they’re super good-looking too!" He pointed at the other children. "You’re definitely losing to me today!"

Surprisingly, nobody argued. Instead, the children looked at him with pure envy. A few even ran over and grabbed Damien’s and Cecelia’s hands. Looking at the cheerful little faces around them, both adults found themselves thinking about Candy.

What was she doing right now? Had she eaten lunch? Was she behaving herself?

Without realizing it, both of them missed her.

The event hadn’t officially started yet. The principal was still giving a speech on stage while parents and children waited below.

Just then, Damien’s smartwatch vibrated.

A message appeared.

Candy: Mister, what are you doing? 😊

The moment he saw the text, he could practically picture her bright little face.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

Damien: What are you doing? Is your injury feeling better? Have you been resting?

The reply came almost immediately.

Candy: Much better! And yes, I’ve been resting. I’m a good girl.

Damien smiled.

Damien: Yes, you are. You’re a very good girl, Candy.

A few seconds later, another message appeared.

Candy: Can you give me your bank account number? I want to pay you back for my hospital bill.

Damien stared at the screen, speechless. A three-year-old wanted to repay him? This had definitely been taught by her mother.

Damien: Can your watch even make bank transfers?

Candy: No. But I have a bank card with all my allowance money. I can use an ATM.

Damien looked at the message for several seconds. The maturity in her words was almost absurd.

Damien: Did your mom tell you to do this?

Candy: No. I didn’t tell Mommy you paid for my medical treatment. I didn’t want her to worry. She doesn’t know.

Then another message arrived.

Candy: But don’t worry. I have more than $150 saved. That’s enough. Now give me your account number.

Damien nearly laughed.

One hundred and fifty dollars.

The amount wasn’t important. The attitude was. The way she insisted on repaying people. The way she refused to owe anyone. The way she spoke. It sounded suspiciously familiar. Almost exactly like the woman sitting beside him.

Damien: It’s alright. I wanted to help you. You don’t need to pay me back. Save your money.

Candy’s response arrived immediately.

Candy: Mommy says you shouldn’t take advantage of other people’s kindness. If someone lends you something, you should return it. Otherwise, nobody will help you again.

Then came another message.

Candy: Are you refusing because you think $150 isn’t enough? Or because you don’t think I can do it?

Damien rubbed his forehead. How did a three-year-old even come up with these arguments?

Damien: Neither. I have enough money. I don’t need your reimbursement.

Candy went quiet for several seconds. Then another message appeared.

Candy: That’s strange. I’ve never heard anyone say that before. My aunt and uncle are always fighting about money. Mommy pays part of their mortgage every month. She buys groceries too. She’s always broke. My godmother’s studio isn’t doing well either. I heard her say she was broke today.

There was a pause.

Candy: Sir... How did you make so much money? freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Damien’s expression softened. What kind of environment was this child growing up in?

After a moment, he replied.

Damien: Because I work hard. And because I’m good at what I do. That’s how people make money. If your uncle, aunt, mom, and godmother keep working hard, they’ll have money too.

Candy responded immediately.

Candy: That’s exactly what Mommy says! When I grow up, if I work hard and become really good at my job, I’ll have money too!

Damien: That’s right.

Another message appeared instantly.

Candy: So $150 is definitely enough. Now hurry up and give me your account number.

Damien stared at the screen. The little girl had somehow managed to lead him in a perfect circle. And brought the conversation right back to the beginning.

Still... He couldn’t deny he admired her values. Since she was so determined, perhaps accepting the money would encourage her.

Just as Candy completed the transfer, the event officially began. The first competition was for fathers and children. Damien took first place without breaking a sweat. The second event required carrying a child through an obstacle course. Again, first place.

Then came a family relay.

Since Cecelia’s foot was injured, Damien simply picked up both her and Rocky and carried them through the course. The crowd erupted in laughter and applause.

First place.

Again.

And again.

And again.

By the end of the afternoon, they’d won every event.

Rocky was ecstatic.

"I wish you were my real mom and dad!" He practically bounced in excitement. "I like you guys so much!"

Then the questions started.

"How old are you?"

"Are you married?"

"Do you have a kid?"

"Do you go to your kid’s school events too?"

"Do you always win first place?"

His eyes filled with envy. "I’m so jealous of your child!"

Damien and Cecelia exchanged a glance. Neither knew how to answer.

"I had so much fun!" Rocky immediately pulled out a phone. "I’m calling Dad! You have to come to the next event too!"

After listening to his son’s enthusiastic commentary—and approximately ten uninterrupted minutes of praise for Damien and Cecelia—President Thorne kept his promise.

He invited them back to his office. This time, the discussion went smoothly.

Cecelia had prepared thoroughly. She walked him through the product line in detail. The design philosophy, the manufacturing standards, the performance specifications, the applications, pricing. Everything.

By the time she finished, President Thorne nodded approvingly. "I’ll place a trial order." He closed the folder. "If everything performs as expected, we can discuss a long-term partnership afterward."

Cecelia almost couldn’t contain her excitement. Their products had an excellent track record. Not a single trial order had ever failed to convert into a long-term contract. This deal was practically secured.

On the drive back to the airport, she looked at Damien. "I know I should thank you properly. At the very least, I should buy you dinner." She smiled apologetically. "But there’s still one flight back to Veridia tonight."

Her eyes softened. "And I miss my daughter. I want to see her as soon as possible."

Damien had noticed the longing in her eyes throughout the kindergarten event. He knew how much she missed Candy. Without saying anything else, he drove her directly to the airport. When they arrived, he carried her luggage out of the trunk. "Have a safe flight."

Cecelia looked up at him. Gratitude filled her chest.

"Thank you." She smiled. "Really. For everything." Then she hesitated. "When will you be back in Veridia? My daughter’s school registration still needs to be handled." She lowered her gaze. "I’ve caused you so much trouble since we met. I’m sorry about that."

Then she added softly, "Let’s finish the divorce paperwork as soon as possible. After that..." She smiled politely. "I promise I won’t bother you anymore."

Damien fell silent.

Throughout the kindergarten event, they’d held hands, worked together, and taken photos. He could still remember the warmth of her hand. The faint scent in her hair. The softness of her body when he’d carried her.

He had never devoted this much attention to any woman before.

And now—the moment she no longer needed his help—she was talking about divorce again.

Like he was a tool she’d borrowed.

Used.

And was now discarded without a second thought.