Vesper’s POV
I was halfway through drying my hair when the doorbell rang, and my stomach dropped.
For a second, I simply stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Court officials.
It had to be.
The lawyer said they could show up unannounced, but I’d assumed that meant sometime next week, not the morning after I moved into Jaxon’s villa.
I rushed out of the bathroom and nearly collided with Jaxon.
He looked me over once before glancing toward the front door.
“The evaluator?”
”Who else would be ringing our doorbell like they’re serving a warrant?”
Another ring echoed through the villa.
The evaluator couldn’t find me standing in the hallway looking like I’d slept peacefully for ten hours in my own room.
That wasn’t exactly helping our case.
Before I could panic any further, Jaxon stepped closer.
“What are you doing?” I demanded when he reached for me.
“Well, I’m fixing the problem.”
”You’re the problem, Vesper.”
His mouth twitched.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to stop him.
He loosened a few strands of hair from my ponytail, making it look less neat and more like I’d just climbed out of bed.
Then his fingers brushed the collar of my shirt, tugging it slightly off-center.
The movement was innocent, but my reaction wasn’t.
Heat immediately climbed into my face.
“Jaxon.”
”Relax…we need to make them believe something.”
Easy for him to say.
He wasn’t the one whose heart had suddenly forgotten how to function.
The doorbell rang again, and before I could argue, his hand settled against my waist firmly.
Then he opened the door.
The evaluator stood outside holding a tablet and a folder.
Her gaze moved from Jaxon to me and then to the hand resting possessively against my waist.
A smile immediately appeared on her face, which looked wonderful.
She already looked entertained.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning,” Jaxon replied smoothly.
I pasted on my professional smile.
“Please come in.”
The evaluator followed us into the living room, and to my growing annoyance, Jaxon never removed his arm.
If anything, his grip tightened whenever the conversation shifted toward our marriage.
I should have been irritated.
Instead, I was becoming painfully aware of how warm he was.
The evaluator settled into a chair and opened her folder.
“This won’t take long.”
People always say that before taking a long time.
The questions started immediately, and most of them were expected.
How long had we lived together?
How involved was Jaxon in Sunny’s daily care?
What arrangements had been made regarding her education and therapy?
Every time a difficult question came up, Jaxon answered before I could.
Not in a controlling way but in a protective one.
He could see exactly which topics made me uncomfortable and stepped in automatically.
When the evaluator asked about financial stability, Jaxon calmly listed three properties under his name.
When she questioned future childcare plans, he already had answers.
When she asked about Sunny’s adjustment, he spoke about her progress with surprising patience.
I found myself staring at him more than once.
Who was this man?
This wasn’t the reckless hockey player from the headlines.
This wasn’t the arrogant flirt who enjoyed getting under my skin.
This version of Jaxon was thoughtful, as if he turned into a chameleon to fit my preference.
The realization unsettled me far more than it should have.
The evaluator eventually closed her folder, and I relaxed, which was too soon.
She wasn’t finished.
Her eyes landed on the mug sitting beside me.
“You haven’t touched your coffee.”
I blinked.
Before I could answer, Jaxon spoke.
“She won’t drink it yet.”
The evaluator looked curious.
“So certain?”
”It’s too hot.”
I turned toward him, and Jaxon didn’t seem to realize he’d said anything unusual.
“She always waits five minutes.”
The evaluator’s eyebrows lifted.
“So you know exactly how she drinks her coffee?”
Jaxon shrugged.
“Of course, or she burns her tongue otherwise.”
Silence followed, and I stared at him; the evaluator stared at him.
And Jaxon looked completely unaware that he’d just made us sound like an old married couple.
Something strange tugged at my chest because he was right.
Five minutes was exactly how long I waited.
The evaluator was openly smiling now, and I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.
A few minutes later, the questioning finally ended.
The evaluator gathered her things and stood.
Before leaving, she glanced toward the staircase where Sunny had appeared quietly, watching us from the landing.
The little girl hesitated before walking downstairs, and my heart immediately softened.
Sunny still wasn’t fully comfortable around people.
Most days, she spoke very little.
The evaluator crouched slightly towards her.
“How are you doing today, sweetheart?”
Sunny looked toward me first, then Jaxon.
Finally, she answered.
“I’m okay, Miss.”
The evaluator smiled.
“That’s good.”
Sunny nodded, then, to my surprise, she moved closer until she was standing beside Jaxon.
The evaluator noticed too.
“So you’ve been spending time together?”
Sunny’s face lit up, and she nodded again.
“We watched movies.”
A smile of approval and pride appeared on Jaxon’s face.
It made something in my chest squeeze unexpectedly.
The evaluator rose to her feet.
“Keep doing that.”
We looked at her, and she smiled gently.
“Children don’t need perfection.
They need consistency.”Her gaze moved between Jaxon and me.
“Spend as much time with her as possible.
Let her feel safe, and she won’t even remember that something bad happened.”
”We will,” I promised.
“I know.”
The confidence in her voice caught me off guard.
She seemed genuinely pleased with what she’d seen.
After saying goodbye, she finally left.
The villa fell quiet.
For a moment, none of us spoke, then Sunny tugged lightly on my sleeve.
“Can I show you something?”
”Of course.”
She immediately ran upstairs, and I followed her into the small art room we’d set up the previous night.
Sheets of paper covered the table.
Crayons were scattered everywhere.
Sunny grabbed a drawing and handed it to me proudly.
At first, I smiled.
Then my breath caught because there were three figures on the page.
One small girl, a female, and one male.
A family.
Above them, written in uneven childish handwriting, were two simple words.
My family and I tightened our throats instantly.
Sunny looked nervous.
“Do you like it, Auntie Ves?”
I couldn’t answer immediately.
Because six days ago, this little girl had lost everything.
Her parents, home, and sense of safety, and somehow, despite all of that, she’d drawn this to us and sees us as family.
I blinked hard against the sudden sting in my eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Sunny smiled, and it was a real smile.
The first truly carefree one I’d seen from her.
She hugged the drawing to her chest before running off again.
A strange ache settled in my chest.
Because somewhere between court evaluations, fake marriage contracts, and helping Sunny survive her grief, things had started changing, and that terrified me.