Switching between themes is so hard fufufu.

Waking up the next morning Brandon DeCaro felt like he had been run over by a bullet train multiple times. His head was pounding and the manner in which he had gone to bed last night left him dishevelled.

His shirt was half undone, his slack pants from yesterday were still clad to him and the sheets of his bed which were usually neatly kept were in complete disarray.

Brandon wasn't a lightweight, it took quite a few glasses to truly get him black out drunk but even then he was entirely aware of what he does. Just without the common sense not to do them. As with most drunks in his bloodline, they weren't entirely immune to making a fool of themselves every once in a while.

Yesterday by the staircase had become the plague of his existence. Every fibre of his being was counting milliseconds to when she would finally grant him permission to kiss her again and was not pleased when the child interrupted.

He had spent the night drinking away unwanted thoughts from the ball before to the point where he had almost done just that on the staircase. She had picked up her child and walked to back to her room without so much of a glance. Leaving him on the staircase with nothing but his own thoughts and burning desires.

The next few hours had become a torment of his own hammering heart rate and the melody of her panting forever stained in his drunk mind. The feeling of his blood setting on fire as his lips brushed over hers teasingly, he was so deprived it was starting to drive him mad.

He hasn't so much as touched another woman in the last few months and it was starting to pull seams from his meticulously sewn threads of self-control.

Brandon groaned, grabbing the pillow he was lying on and shooting it across the room in frustration. He had fucked up. He had fucked himself up. 4 years he spent erasing any thoughts and feelings of the woman who ruined him just for it to all come rushing back like a broken dam.

He swore he would never fall in love with his ex. The woman who cheated on him and left. But his feelings were no matter for his body, his body that refused the old ways of his playboy nature just to get the chance to touch the woman who ruined any perception of love for him.

Of course, he didn't love her, not like he used to. Brandon couldn't care less about her in that way, it pissed him off on the occasion to even think about what she had done to him. So much so to sometimes not wanting to be in her presence but holy hell did his body have something indifferent to say about that.

A drunk man's actions are a sober man's thoughts. The old godforsaken saying went.

A soft rap on the door pulled him out of his own self-loathing as Mario took the silence as a cue to enter. He was carrying a tray topped with the usual ingredients for a hangover. "Good morning young master," Mario quickly bowed before walking in. He had served the DeCaro family for quite some loyal time and in his years, he's seen all the masters of this house come home with more liquor in bodies than humanly possible.

The current younger master was no exception however, Mario couldn't recall a recent time where Brandon DeCaro couldn't hold properly hold his alcohol. He was definitely more put together than his father that's for sure.

"Just how much did you drink, young master?" Mario asked curiously, placing the tray of painkillers and water on the bedside table.

Brandon groaned, rubbing his throbbing temples, "Don't ask," He grumbled back, pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the bed.

Brandon DeCaro never gave a shit about the girls he dated. Being raised like an emotionless robot had its perks when it came to brushing off feelings. He liked the thrill of getting a woman to fall in love with him, he liked the attention, but he wasn't the type of man to consider settling down.

Grabbing the glass of water, he threw the pills in his mouth and swallowed it before standing up. "You should rest, young master," Mario spoke quickly as Brandon continued rubbing his forehead.

"I have things to do," He shot back, waving his hand dismissively as he trudged to the bathroom ensuite. Mario sighed, knowing there was no use stopping the young business tycoon once he has decided on something.

Brandon had an agenda of loose ends to tie up today.

It didn't take long for him to wash off the alcoholic stench and walk into his now empty bathroom with the towel rubbing his dully aching damp head. He had gotten Vince to do his shopping for him considering his father had destroyed his spare clothes that night in hopes of another grandchild.

Brandon's eyebrow quivered at the irritation his father was starting to cause all these years later. He had requested to see Brandon Friday night before the ball, a request Brandon had not so politely declined when he stood his father up to accompany Stella. On top of work, this limbo with his ex and the inheritance, his father just keeps adding spanners into the machinery.

Throwing on a pair of navy chinos and polo knit, Brandon made his way downstairs. His room was on the opposite end of the house from Stella's which meant bumping into her on his way down was minimal. He wasn't ready to face her just yet, not with how fresh her soft pants were in his mind.

"Breakfast is ready," Mario stood at the bottom of the staircase, hands extended to refer to the open doors of the dining room. Without thinking twice, he turned his course towards the dining room to grab something before making his way to his home office.

Instead of seeing the empty dining room table with an assortment of food, he was mildly surprised to see Nic sitting barely visible on the chair beside the head of the table, with his fork messily stabbing at some waffles.

His chocolate brown eyes looked up, catching Brandon's own gaze before a gigawatt grin broke out of his lips. "Morning daddy!" He beamed happily. Brandon's eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he walked over to the kid struggling to break off the waffle.

"Morning buddy," Brandon replied absentmindedly as he took a seat at the head of the table, "Where's your mom?"

"Wash," Nic replied with another grin before going back to his task at hand to break up the waffle with a fork. Brandon stared at the child for a moment, dressed in a pair of smart khaki trousers and navy blue checker shirt, something his mom definitely clad him with.

Without a word, he reached out and brought the plate away from the boy. Nic watched curiously as Brandon grabbed his own butter knife and began slicing the waffles up into bite sized pieces "Eat some fruit, which one do you like?" He asked, taking note of the lack of fibre products on the plate.

"Oranges," Citrus, just like his mother.

A small smile twitched at Brandon's lips before he turned to Mario standing beside the dining room door, "Tell the kitchen to cut up some oranges,"

"Right away young master," Mario dipped his head quickly before disappearing into the doors that connect the kitchen to the dining room.

Nicholas watched his father put the cut up waffles plate back in front of his before curiously gazing up at his older version, "Does everyone do what you say?"

Brandon frowned in thought at the question, "Just the people I pay," He shrugged nonchalantly, "Mario has been serving my father for years,"

"Grampa?" The boy asked curiously, and Brandon frowned. He forgot how weird it felt to have someone refer to his father anything other than 'Mr DeCaro'. Especially by someone so small.

"Yeah, Grandpa," He replied softly, "Back when he used to own this house anyway, now it's mine," A first step in taking the inheritance was taking DeCaro House for himself. Brandon's father had made it very clear DeCaro house was for raising families in, and since neither Brandon nor Celine bore any children and Mr DeCaro had gone to Maryland for treatment, the house remained in a stalemate.

"After?" Nic asked, kicking his feet as he munched down on the bite sized waffle pieces. Brandon noted how much of a chatter box he was, much like his mother. Stella quite literally never stopped talking when they dated, but he enjoyed silently listening to her.

"After?" Brandon repeated in confusion.

"Mhmm, after what happens?" He mumbled back with a mouthful.

"To the house?" A nod signalled the child's further interrogation, "Well after I suppose it will go to my child,"

Nic's feet stopped kicking and silence fell between the two as the kid continued to stare at his plate. Brandon stared with furrowed brows as a small pout curled over the child's lips. "Will mommy and I have to leave after you become a real daddy?" He asked, wetness brimming his waterline as he gazed up at Brandon with his big brown eyes.

That must be the umpteenth time in the last few months that Brandon had been rendered speechless. He hadn't given it much thought as to what happens to Stella and the child after this charade is over. He promised enough fortune to send the child to school and for them to live comfortably, but aside from that, it's up to Stella where they go.

Perhaps even miles away from him, never to be heard from again.

"I'm not planning on becoming a real dad," He replied, collecting his composure. Nic sniffled, and rubbed his eye with his wrist just as Mario placed the cut up oranges on the table.

"Does that mean you take care of mommy and me fo-ever?" This kid needed to stop with the difficult questions, Brandon has never felt this uncomfortable even during press conferences set to ruin his life he remains steadfast.

Brandon gazed at Mario for help, just as the butler gazed away awkwardly. He knew better than anyone making empty promises wasn't the way to handle business, "I can, but I don't think your mom wants me to."

Content with Brandon's initial answer, Nic smiled giddily and shoved another piece of waffle into his small mouth, "Mommy likes you, she will!" He was so sure his mom liked her ex huh?

"More than Uncle Luc?" Brandon felt the words roll of his tongue before he could stop himself.

Nic pursed his lips in thought, "Only a little more," He giggled. Despite the answer meaning absolutely nothing to him, Brandon felt a small grip on his chest ease up at the kid's response. Why should he care if Stella had feelings for Luc? As long as it didn't interfere with their arrangement, it was none of his concern.

Brandon watched the child scarf down some more of the neatly cut up bits of waffle, kicking his feet giddily. He doesn't usually stop for breakfast, grabbing something off the table and shoving it into his mouth as Mario complains was his usual agenda.

Despite already pressed for time, Brandon couldn't seem to tear himself away from the table. Was this what being a father was like? No, his father never ate meals with him. His eyes cast to the other end of the table, the seat in which Brandon would usually be sitting in while his stepmother sat opposite where Nic was and Celine beside her.

By convention, Brandon should've sat where Nic was, on his father's right. But the divide between his steps and himself was too obvious. His father never ate a meal with them, and his stepmother wouldn't so much as glance in his direction as she ate her own meal in silence.

He was an outsider in his own family.

In a way, Nicholas was fortunate, seated at the table with his mother every morning as she fed him, wiping his mouth and exaggeratingly complimenting him when he ate his food.

Maybe he didn't mind having a family if it was this one.

The small moment was interrupted as Stella's voice sounded from the door, "Nic," She breathed, her eyes flickering from her child seated on the chair beside the head of the table where Brandon sat.

Brandon's eyes immediately zeroed in on her gaze and he found himself immediately fixated. Stella had taken a long shower to wash off the burning feeling from last night but seeing this man again, even in his right mind, was slowly bringing back everything she had tried to scrub off.

She could quite literally feel her heart pound and her ears started to turn red at the thought of last night.

Brandon noticed she had taken the liberty to dress herself in one of the clothes he had asked the staff to fill her closet with. A soft pink milkmaid dress that reached her knees, and tied with a scrunch detail at her breast, she had intentionally matched her rosy lipstick to the shade of the dress.

Stella Solaria knew how to dress, she knew which colours, what silhouettes and which fabrics fit all types of bodies. She knew exceptionally well how to dress herself, a notion that Brandon couldn't seem to look away from this morning.

Moreover, he couldn't stop staring at her lips that she had tucked between her teeth from the tension.

"Hi mommy," Nic waved, continuing to indulge himself on the oranges and other assortments of breakfast the kitchen had prepared. Brandon took the child's interruption as a chance to tear his eyes away and stand up from the table.

"I'll leave you two to enjoy breakfast," He forced out a smile, avoiding Stella's eyes as he shifted away from his seat.

The moment Brandon left his seat, Nic dropped his cutlery and slipped out of his own chair to follow the tycoon, "Oh, I wanna go with daddy!" He declared, taking a firm hold of Brandon's sleeve.

Stella's jaw dropped at her son's reaction and she quickly picked him up, causing him to let go of Brandon's sleeve, "No no you can't, he's got important business to do,"

Nic frowned, wriggling in her arms, "I wanna!"

Stella met Brandon's eyes apologetically before tightening her hold on her son, "No baby, you haven't finished breakfast,"

"Daddy didn't even have breakfast!" The kid yelled pointing down at Brandon's empty plate. Brandon's eyes shot back to Mario who was coughing to cover up a stifled laugh before he looked back at Nic in her arms, tears staining his cheeks as Stella tried to reason with him.

Despite Stella wanting to feel uncomfortable with Nic's newfound habit of calling Brandon his father, it felt so normal. Maybe because she imagined what this would be like for the last 3 years since his birth.

"Cara, it's fine, I'll take him with me," Brandon sighed, as Stella gave him a dumbfounded look. Did Brandon DeCaro just offer to babysit, again?! Nic grinned, clapping his hands excitedly as Stella placed him down out of pure confusion.

Nic didn't waste a moment before running to Brandon's side and grabbing his hand again. A gesture the stoic Brandon DeCaro welcomed without a thought as he held the child's small hand.

"A-Are you going to the office?" She asked quickly.

"No, I'm going to see my father," Brandon replied, "It'll be good for Nic to come, my father would appreciate it," Stella nodded, forgetting she herself had nothing to do today. She couldn't go with Brandon, that would be beyond awkward to sit in the penthouse while they discussed business.

He watched Stella nervously flick at her fingernails, a habit he knew she had whenever she was uncomfortable, "The house is yours to do whatever you see fit, Cara," He told her, trying to add a hint of comfort. This was the second time Brandon had opted to look at their child and as ecstatic as it made her subconscious, the rational part of her brain was setting off flare guns.

Stella's lips parted in an attempt to say something before Vince walked into the foyer and spoke into the silence, "The car is ready Master Brandon," he lowered his head with a quick bow.

Brandon gazed down at Nic, "Hey bud, why don't you go with Vince and buckle yourself in, I'll be there soon,"

He didn't hesitate for a beat before grinning back, "Okay Daddy," Stella damn near stunned herself at how casually her child bounced off towards Brandon's driver, "Bye Mommy!" He waved with a giggle, before walking out of the dining room.

"Bye-" Stella breathed, a little winded at our independent her fussy crybaby of a toddler had suddenly become, "Wait hang on!" She exclaimed, making an attempt to leave the room after him before Brandon sidestepped, cutting her off.

"Cara I need to talk to you," Brandon interjected, almost making her bump into his side with how quickly he intercepted. Suddenly it dawned on her that they were now alone. In the dining hall. Only a few feet away from the staircase that had become Stella's undoing last night.

Brandon took her silence as an opening to continue, "About that night of the party," He began, slowly picking out his words. There were so many things that night that Brandon wanted to talk about. But his most vivid concern was how he acted before and during the party. Sure his father and this situation was stressing him beyond measure but that was no reason to lash out at Stella.

He wanted to apologise.

Stella could feel her heartbeat begin to hammer in her chest, "What about it?" Was all she had managed to wheeze out.

Brandon cast his eyes away for a brief moment and sighed, "I'm sorry about what I did," In her mind, he was apologising for kissing her again it seemed, quite soberly this time. She wondered if he had remembered what he had almost done last night, would he talk about that too? "I was stressed, and I let my emotions get the better of me, and it led to regrettable actions,"

He regrets it.

Stella could feel her stomach drop and the wringing feeling manifest in her gut. He regretted kissing her. No, why did this affect her more than she wished? She regretted kissing him back too.

Didn't she? DIDN'T SHE?!

No, the fact of the matter was that Bloom Domino was right on the money. Brandon was the only one who regretted it, which meant Brandon didn't reciprocate. He never did. Stella was trying so hard to shove her feelings into a bottle and screw on a lid, while Brandon DeCaro regretted even getting involved in the first place.

"Cara," He spoke, snapping her out of her train of thought, "I apologise, it won't happen again," He murmured, trying to tell her that he would work to keep his emotions in check - but that wasn't what she was receiving.

It was as if someone had picked up the chair beside the table and clocked her out with it. Reality dawned on her as she stared at his godforsaken handsome face. One kiss had brought back that euphoric feeling she experienced when she dated him, that feeling where she felt anything was possible. That feeling she had been craving for years but knew was unlikely to have again.

Now it had become downright impossible to have. At least with him.

"Cara?"

She stared at his damn face in silence, his damned face she had been so desperately in love with all those years ago. He never felt the same about her as she did about him, that much was obvious. She can assume what almost happened on the staircase may have also been a moment of weakness. A blunder he had almost acted on in a compromised state of him. It could've been anyone that he would've done that to.

She didn't even want to ask, this was already humiliating enough.

"Thank you for apologising, Brandon," Stella sighed, gazing down to try and quell the burning rage she felt.

Brandon felt his constricted chest ease up at her words, oblivious to the tone in which they were delivered. He offered her a tight-lipped smile, unsure what else to say. "I'll see you tonight," He told her, "Vince will be back here after, feel free to leave the villa if you wish,"

He watched her nod in acceptance, "Please go with Vince, all of my staff are security trained, I don't want anything happening to you," Despite wanting to throw something at him, Brandon DeCaro really had a way with words. He turned to leave, casting her one last gaze and a stomach-churning smile, "Be safe, and enjoy your day,"

THIS MAN.

He didn't wait for a response before walking down out of the lobby, leaving Stella and her inferno of hellish thoughts about her stupid ex.

I love miscommunication bc for a man with a billion-dollar net worth, Brandon DeCaro is useless at talking to Stella.

Also if you are an avid reader of my work (my recent work not my old work when I was a child LOL), pls do give my new story The Sun Queen a shot, it is a bit more angsty than this but it is the one my brain is decided to hyper-fixate on for now so if you have nothing better to do hehe ~

BE WARNED THO THERE ARE A LOT OF TRIGGER WARNINGS ON THAT ONE I AM 20 YEARS OLD SO I WRITE FOR YA NOW!

Lots of love,

Star