Love at First Night: The Billionaire's First Love-Chapter 42: Graceful escape

>Mallory

"...Son of a..." I cursed, my hand flying to my mouth instinctively, like I could shove the rest of the words back in.

I was finally able to get up by myself and go to the bathroom without feeling like I was dying, and this is what I’d see?

I lifted the oversized shirt I was wearing, the hem brushing against my wrists. The tall bathroom mirror threw my reflection back at me with as if judging me.

My entire body visible except for the thin lace underwear covering my lower region, and every inch of my neck and collarbone—hell, even the tops of my shoulders—looked like they had been attacked. Dark, angry hickeys everywhere. Some were fresh and reddish, others already turning deep purple like bruised fruit. A few looked like the kind of marks you get from little nibbles... except multiplied by twenty.

My stomach twisted in on itself. I let out this dying-whale noise and covered my eyes with my hand in sheer embarrassment.

"What a monster..." I murmured into my palm, then peeked through my fingers. "...that man."

I pressed my fingers against the marks, trying to smooth them away like they were smudges on a window, but all I got was a dull pulse of pain.

Is he a vampire or something?

I sighed,a soft knock at the door made me jump like I’d been caught in some act.

I turned around quickly and saw Asher peeking inside, his head tilted, eyes narrowing in confusion and curiousity. He stepped in quietly, then suddenly froze mid-step. The second he spotted the marks on my thighs, his expression changed entirely, his eyes widened, mouth parting slightly. He rushed toward me in these fast, clumsy little steps, his hands flying to his chest, fingers splayed out like he didn’t know what to do with them.

He ran around me in circles, literally circling me, checking every angle of my body he could see. Quick little glances. His chin lifting, then dropping. Shoulders rising, falling. His breathing got faster with every lap he took around me.

The shirt covered most of my upper body, but the ones on my legs were completely exposed, and he definitely saw them.

What do I do?

I held up my hands, palms forward, trying to calm him. "Hey... it’s okay, I’m fine. You’re gonna hurt yourself."

He didn’t stop right away but after some time he finally paused in front of me and stared. Really stared.

His whole posture stiff, like he was bracing himself. His eyes darted from my face to my neck, then back. He took one step back. Then another. Like he was trying to give me space but didn’t want to leave me either. Then he froze again, rooted to the floor, still staring.

I feel like I was being interrogated.

"Hey," I whispered, forcing this awkward, crooked smile, a heat crawling up my cheeks.

"It’s really fine. See?"

I tugged my shirt down a little so he could see less of the bruises.

His eyes flicked downward, then back up at me severely dissatisfied.

Figures. He wasn’t an easy kid to trick to begin with.

After a long pause that felt like a whole damn century, he finally relaxed enough to let me walk past him.

I stepped out of the bathroom, and he followed behind me closely, making sure I wasn’t out of his sight, sticking to me like a shadow afraid to lose its light source. I opened my drawer and grabbed a soft cream colored turtleneck, the fabric warm and thick between my fingers. I pulled it over my head quickly, tugging the collar up until most of the disaster on my skin disappeared.

That should do for now.

I needed to escape here somehow. Good thing he left a few hours ago because of those emergency meetings because I just couldn’t take the awkwardness.

My gaze shifted to my son. I knelt down to check on him, my hands resting lightly on his shoulders.

"Come on, let’s get you ready."

---

Asher’s small shoulders were still tense as soon as I finished dressing him. I smoothed his hair back gently, letting my fingers linger for a moment. His hair was soft and warm. I handed him his noise-canceling headphones, and he brushed my hand lightly with his fingers before slipping them over his ears. As soon as the padded cups settled, his body loosened slightly.

"Wanna get some ice cream with mommy?" I asked.

His whole face lit up instantly, like someone switched on a lamp inside him. He nodded aggressively—so fast his head nearly flew off his neck. I chuckled.

Ahw...how could someone this cute exist?

"Ready?" I asked softly.

He nodded again and took my hand with both of his tiny hands as we descended the stairs and stepped outside together toward the parking lot.

I pulled out my phone once I had him buckled in and quickly dialed Mara’s number, the phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

It’s not too surprising. She always disappeared for weeks or months. Running her construction company and her luxury jewelry business that was somehow dominating the entire industry kept her busy, juggling everything like she was built different.

She’s a busy woman.

Still, I couldn’t help the little needle of worry in my chest.

I tried not to. I wasn’t the type to lean on anyone emotionally. But she’s the only person who’s been with me since the start.

Outside, the air felt sharp and clean, like inhaling cold water. I breathed it in like it was medicine. I realized I hadn’t properly stepped outside since we arrived. Everything—the cars rushing by, the faint smell of food from street vendors, the soft buzz of people walking past—felt huge.

I drove as slowly as possible, windows open, letting myself take it all in. It felt like I’d been locked inside for years.

We drove around until I spotted a small café. It had a cute smiling bear on the sign, soft and round like it was drawn for toddlers. And it wasn’t crowded.

I turned to my son cheerfully. "Sweetheart... do you want to go in?"

He hesitated, staring carefully through the window like he was analyzing the entire layout. Then his eyes landed on the bear. He shifted from one foot to the other, unsure. After a long moment, he nodded.

The café was quiet and warm. The faint smell of coffee and pastries drifted around like a soft blanket. Sunlight spilled across the polished wooden floors, glowing warmly on the tables. I guided Asher to a corner table near the window, far away from the few customers so he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.

He sat down carefully, placing his hands on the table, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. I smoothed the hair from his forehead again. His small body was still tense, but with his headphones on, he was calmer.

"Pumpkin latte and a sundae, please," I ordered when the woman came by. I also added a few pastries to go with it. When she left, I finally let myself look around the café.

I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I just... sat somewhere and watched the world move. The low hum of conversation, the clink of mugs, the way sunlight hit our table just right—it all felt like a tiny piece of peace I’d forgotten existed.

Then something shifted in my peripheral vision.

A woman nearby was leaning over the table, holding her phone out toward a man wearing a black hoodie whose back was turned to us. She was asking for his number, cheeks flushed, voice shaking. She looked brave and terrified at the same time.

Oh, respect. I mentally applauded her.

But not even a few seconds passed before the café door slammed open and an angry man stormed inside, catching everyone’s attention.

"YOU BITCH! SO YOU’RE HERE!" he yelled at the woman.

My eyes went wide. I glanced toward my son. Thankfully, his back was turned towards the drawing and he was completely oblivious with his headphones on.

Without warning, the angry man grabbed a glass of water from a nearby table and threw it across the hooded man’s back. The water splashed everywhere—soaking the hoodie, the chair, even the floor. Customers gasped, staff started whispering against themselves.

The man cursed loudly when the woman tried to stop him.

Asher flinched immediately. His small body stiffened, fingers gripping the edge of the table. I didn’t notice he was looking.

His silence made the fear even more visible.

I reached out without thinking, brushing a hand along his back. "It’s okay, baby," I whispered. "Mommy is here."

The boyfriend suddenly swung a punch, and the man in the hoodie took it directly. Chairs tipped over. A cup rattled off a table. Water dripped everywhere like rain.

Asher ducked slightly, shoulders curling inward, his little hands clutching the sides of his headphones like he wanted to crawl into them and hide. My heart hammered in my chest. I leaned over him protectively, arms close, ready to pull him against me if things got worse.

His small, silent panic tore at me more than any scream could have.

Then, during the commotion, the man’s hoodie slid down from his head.

I looked over instinctively—and froze.

First thing I saw is his busted lip.

Then his whole face came into view.

My eyes grew huge.

"Wait... what is he doing here?" I muttered.