Returning from the Dead: His Secret Lover

An hour later, Matteo arrived at the Hilton hotel.

Even though he was smart for his age, he was still a kid, so it took some time for him to arrive at his destination.

Thankfully, he quickly spotted a car in the hotel parking lot that was the same one the men in black had driven when they took his mother away from the hospital. His heart skipping a beat in excitement, he made his way to the hotel lobby.

“Hi, pretty lady! I’d like to ask who that car outside belongs to?”

The receptionist, a young woman, lowered her head to see an adorable five-year-old boy standing on his tiptoes and peeking over the counter. With a fluffy head of dark hair and large, curious eyes, he looked like a handsome young protagonist from a Disney animation.

Isn’t… Isn’t this Ian, the young boy who lives in our hotel’s penthouse suite?

She stammered, “Mr. I-Ian? Why are… you here? Weren’t you just at the restaurant?”

Huh?

Mr. Ian?

Matteo quickly picked up that something was off.

So, he pulled a tall stool over and climbed onto it, resting his elbows on the reception counter as he smiled brightly at the young woman whose cheeks went red.

came out for a minute. Oh, do you know who the car

family? Your father’s staff was driving it when he came home

beamed; his chubby cheeks becoming round. “Okay!

restaurant, or your father is going to panic if he can’t find you.” The receptionist scrambled out of her seat, worried that the boy might

Matteo wasn’t about

as “Mr. Ian”, and he wanted to see for himself

transferring to their preschool. The kid in the photo looked like Matteo, but his name was

home and hacked into the preschool principal’s computer to search for more information about Ian, the registered address was the penthouse suite of the very Hilton hotel that

the receptionist in the

was sitting like the perfect gentleman in the middle of the fancy restaurant, dressed in a small, tailored suit and a napkin tucked into his collar. He ignored the food in front of

Matteo were

Matteo was a refreshing ball of sunshine, then Ian was a mini Arctic Ocean just like his father, or

personality. He had been raised by Sebastian to act prim and proper at all times.

so that’s Mr. Ian? I really do look like him. But is he always as uptight

cure for your father’s illness. Don’t you want your father

silent for a few moments. It

whom he brought along today

laughed awkwardly, trying to give him the vaguest

up his fork and knife, digging into his food. “If that’s the case, then tell him not to be so mean

nearly choked on