"Bella... I’m doing this for Dax. Don’t you realize he needs a man figure in his life!?"
Bella’s hands slowly clenched when she heard that. She couldn’t say anything because she agreed with him.
Old Donovan continued, "You can see how quickly Dax became friendly with me. We just looked at each other; he immediately opened up to me. At first, I was amazed, but later, I realized he needed a figure man to chat with. To play with and learn."
Bella was a little surprised. He knew this because they lived in a remote village in Northern Sweden, and no neighbors were around Dax’s age. He spends his time just with Noora and her.
Now, Bella understood why Dax showed his warm expression more often whenever Sean visited them.
"So, don’t think about other people who are not important in your life, but just focus and think about Dax, your son," Old Donovan said. "Do you understand what I mean, right?"
"Y-Yes."
"So, you agree if I come with you to move to the capital?"
Without saying anything, Bella nodded while holding back her tears. She felt angry at herself for not being sensitive enough to let Dax meet more people his age and the rest of the family because she was too afraid that Sinclair would find out about him. She was too selfish, only thinking about herself.
Seeing Bella’s slightly red face and remaining silent, Old Donovan continued his sentence, "It’s okay, my dear Bella... I know... raising a child is not an easy thing. You have done an extraordinary thing for him so far."
"Thanks, Grandpa," Bella said softly while deeply breathing.
"Okay, you rest for a while. I’ll ask Nick or Noora to call you for lunch later."
****
Dax walked behind Noora as they climbed up to the second floor of the building.
They turned into a long corridor that resembled a standard hotel hallway, with doors lining both sides.
At the end of the corridor, a large glass window overlooked a vast expanse of flat terrain blanketed in snow.
He calmly walks, but his eyes narrow, looking at Noora’s back.
Before they reached the end of the corridor, he asked, "Why did you bring me here?" He asked with a deadpan expression.
Noora stopped in her tracks. She turned to see Dax behind her. A warm smile framed her face before saying, "Young Master, I want you to choose your room before I unpack."
"You don’t have to pretend, grandma. "I know you lured me here for a reason," Dax said calmly, still narrowing his eyes at her. "Why?"
Noora, "…"
She didn’t believe this intelligent young man could guess it correctly. It was true; she only made an excuse because Young Miss needed to talk to Old Master.
"Okay, which room do you want, Young Master?" Noora asked. She was trying to ignore Dax’s question. "Hurry up, young master... choose. I must unpack your suitcase because I have to go to the kitchen to help the chef prepare lunch." She made another excuse.
Dax shook his head slowly. He knew Noora had lied to him, but he pushed the matter aside; this must have been his mother’s orders.
He pointed to the room at the end of the corridor and walked there. He entered without waiting for Noora.
Sitting casually on the sofa with his legs crossed, Dax’s eyes were still watching Noora, who was busy arranging his clothes in the cupboard.
When he saw her finished, Dax called Noora to sit with him.
Noora knew this young master was intelligent; she couldn’t lie to him. She calmly sat on the sofa opposite him and flashed a faint smile.
"Grandma, since I was little, you always taught me not to lie. Have you forgotten?"
Noora, "..."
’Heavens, now I’m falling into my own grave!’ She silently scolds herself for creating such an unreasonable excuse.
"Y-Yes. So?"
"Did my mother ask you, right?" Dax asked casually.
"Hahaha, the Young Master was so smart; how could you guess it right?"
"I just know from your expression," He said.
"Alright, I will not lie to you. It was your mother who asked me to take you upstairs."
"Why?"
"I don’t know. You can ask her later. Alright, your things have been unpacked. If you need anything, just call me." Noora stood up and smiled at him before walking to the door.
Even though he was curious about her mother’s reason, he decided not to ask Noora again. "Thank you, Grandma."
Suddenly, Noora’s steps stopped before she opened the door. She turned to see Dax. "Young master, can you stop calling me that way?"
"Why? I used to call you that..."
"It feels bad that you called old master Grandpa. How can I be equal to him?"
While they were still in Sweden, she didn’t mind if Dax called her that way because no one knew them there.
"Equal? Why do you feel like that, Grandma? You and Grandpa are the same; you two are equal in my eyes to be called Grandpa and Grandma—" Dax asked. His thick eyebrows knit together. He seemed to dislike hearing Noora’s words and reduced her status to that of a nanny or maid.
Noora was confused, looking at Dax,
’Did I say it wrong? Why he looks so angry now?’ She wondered.
"It’s fine, Grandma... Gramps will understand if I call you that way. No worries—" Dax said while standing from his seat. He walked toward the study table to check his iPad.
Suddenly, Noora smiled when she realized something. She said, "Y-Young Master, I mean..."
Dax turned to see the door, only to find Noora still there, smiling. "Yes?" he asked.
"Well, Old Master is an old man. But me? I’m only in my mid-forties. I’d feel as old as Old Master if you called me Grandma." Noora grinned. "Okay, I’ll go now," she said as she closed the bedroom door.
Dax could only shake his head while taking his iPad and sitting on the sofa.
However, a few minutes passed, and a soft knock on the door could be heard.
"Dax, may I come in?"