The CEO's Doll ✔

Chapter 13

The cashier is looking down to find change. When she looks up, she pauses for a moment. "Are you Vivian?"

"Who?"

"That female celebrity who leaked about the business tycoon's sexual dysfunction?" She points to the TV broadcasting the news in the shop.

"You've mistaken me for someone else," I chuckle and repeat, "2 hot Americanos please."

"Sorry, you two look so similar, especially the eyes." The cashier hurriedly starts entering the order.

The plane from New York landed. The automatic doors open, and Prof. Enzo walks out.

"Macy," he walks up to me.

I smile and hand him a cup of coffee. "A warm drink for you, you just got off the plane, hold it to warm your hands."

Then we drink our coffees side by side as we walk towards the parking lot.

It's snowing outside, and I'm already dressed warmly, but I can't help but shiver a bit when we step out of the airport.

Prof. Enzo looks at me. "Actually, you could have not come to pick me up."

I pause and say, "I know. But Oliver misses you. It was his request for me to come."

Prof. Enzo smiles. "He misses his gift more, right?"

I open the car door, shaking my head helplessly.

After hearing that Prof. Enzo was going on a business trip to the United States, Oliver immediately asked him for a gift over the phone. I said we shouldn't spoil the kid too much, but Prof. Enzo always has various reasons: "I watched him grow up." "He has my last name on his ID, and he's almost like my own son."

I could only remain silent.

The car drives along the streets, and the snowfall gets heavier. The small snowflakes tap on the car roof, creating a distinct rhythm.

Prof. Enzo is sitting in the passenger seat when he suddenly calls out to me, "Macy."

"What's up?" I focus on the road ahead.

"While I was dining at a restaurant in New York, I saw Elliot," he says.

The car suddenly skids.

I grip the steering wheel tightly and apologize with a smile to Prof. Enzo, "the world is so small."

"Yeah," he says, "He saw me and asked if I knew where you were."

"How did you respond?"

"Of course, I said I didn't know."

"Thank you," I say.

"You're welcome," Prof. Enzo continues, "But I'm worried that Elliot might trace you through me."

I pause for a moment and shake my head, "It's impossible. Europe isn't his sphere of influence."

"Let's say, hypothetically, even if he finds me, it doesn't matter. On Oliver's birth certificate, you are his biological father."

At the time, I was studying at the art academy and didn't dare to return to the United States to handle Oliver's identification information. So Prof. Enzo and I pretended to be married and made Oliver an Italian citizen.

Later, when Oliver turned one year old, we got divorced.

The air conditioning in the car is a bit warm, and Prof. Enzo takes off his coat, revealing a pure white round-collar sweater.

He seems to think what I said makes sense, nods.

"I'm happy your exhibition will be held in US. " I change the subject.

"Thanks."

I park the car, and Oliver rushes out as soon as I open the door at home.

"Uncle Enzo!" he exclaims.

He passes by his babysitter and me, then immediately runs towards Prof. Enzo's thighs, hugging him tightly, making me feel a little embarrassed.

Prof. Enzo takes a box of Lego and a large box of chocolates out of his bag.

"Hve you lost a tooth? You can only have two chocolates," he lifts Oliver onto the sofa and turns on the TV for him to watch.

I go to the kitchen to cook. Seeing me busy alone, Prof. Enzo walks in and adds a bowl of fish congee.

The congee is cooked to perfection, with fragrant rice and tender, fresh fish slices without any bones.

Oliver finished one bowl and asked another bowl.

Prof. Enzo says to me, "If you want to learn, I can copy the recipe for you. If you find it troublesome, come to my place for a meal."

Oliver climbs down from his chair and kisses Prof. Enzo's cheek. "Uncle Enzo, I love you the most."

He bursts into loud laughter.

At 8 o'clock in the evening, we finished dinner.

Oliver puts the Lego pieces in a large bag and drags it around like a Santa Claus, starting to play in a corner of the living room.

I go to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Prof. Enzo asks in the dining room, "Can I play some music?"

I start squeezing the dishwashing liquid, the cloth slippery in my hand like a mollusca. "Sure."

"How about Coldplay?"

"Yeah."

The narrow passage between the dining room and the kitchen fills with the sound of Coldplay's song -

'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars

I'm gonna give you my heart

'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars

'Cause you light up the path

I don't care, go on and tear me apart

I don't care if you do, ooh-ooh, ooh

'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars

I think I saw you

The melody has a casually lazy feel, like an eighteen or nineteen-year-old strolling down a tree-lined path, a youthful heart resonating powerfully, holding within them many past and future summers.

I'm in a relaxed mood, humming along softly, washing the dishes in my hands.

Suddenly, Prof. Enzo speaks from outside in a calm tone, as if asking about the weather, "Macy, you still like Elliot, don't you?"