Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance
Chapter 571

"Are CEOS not human? Do CEOs have to be so busy that they miss every single checkup for their wife and kid? Am I a useless assistant who never works at the office because I'm too busy handling home stuff? And nannies can't do everything, right?" "Why can't you be like other CEOs?" Mia teased, her voice dripping with the sweetness of domestic bliss. Her eyes sparkled with love as she gazed at Andre.

Andre knew exactly what Mia wanted to hear. "Because I love you, and I love him too."

Right there in the parking lot, Mia wrapped her arms around Andre's waist. "Honey, I love you, and I love our little guy too."

Their son squirmed in Andre's arms, making baby noises, eager to join the conversation.

Andre wasn't one to say "I love you" often; he showed it through little everyday actions.

On the rare occasions he did say it, the big boss man was a bit bashful.

Luckily, only his wife and child knew his tender side.

Andre drove off, and behind them, another car slowly rolled down its window. The occupants watched the happy family in the parking lot, a camera zooming in on the tender scene.

As the holiday season approached, everyone was bustling about, buying new clothes, and decking their homes with festive cheer. Mia and Andre planned to head back to Maplewood Estates. "Dad, we're heading out. We haven't even started decorating our place," Mia said, slipping on her boots and calling to Hansen in the living room.

"Where do you think you're going? This is your home; no need for you to decorate."

Sure, Mia could be a handful at times, but the thought of her leaving had Hansen feeling oddly reluctant.

Naomi chimed in, not wanting her daughter-in-law to leave either. "Mia, people head back to their family homes for the holidays. You and Andre all alone in Maplewood Estates? That's no way to spend the season."

Mia retorted, "But we've got our son. He's a one-man party machine."

The little guy, full and sleepy from his feeding, lay content in his father's arms, too delicate to be jostled.

Andre's shirts had been the victim of baby spit-up more times than he could count. Now, he walked on eggshells whenever his son had a full belly.

Hansen blocked the door. "Relying on a babbling baby for holiday cheer? I usually let you young ones be, but for the holidays, you need to be home." Unable to leave, Mia tried another angle. "Dad, we've still got to tidy up our room, right?"

"Go ahead and tidy, but the baby stays," Hansen declared, effectively taking their son hostage to ensure their return.

And so, Henry was spirited away by his grandfather.

As luck would have it, the baby had just been fed, and Hansen's attempt to snatch him resulted in a fresh stain of milky spit-up on his sweater.

"He's just been fed?" Hansen glared at his grandson, then at the couple.

Mia couldn't help but laugh. "What else did you expect? You think you got him from my husband because you're stronger?" It was clear Andre had strategically passed the spit-up baton to his dad. Hansen glanced at his ungrateful son Andre, then handed the baby back, "Go on then, Andre's had enough."

Andre took his son back, gently caressing the little face and hugging him close.

In the end, Mia and her family stayed at the old house for the holidays.

It wasn't because Hansen had warmed up to Andre, but rather because they were all wrapped up in Henry's charm.

When it was hinted that the trio might leave, Naomi, Bruce, and Molly all protested, wanting to keep the child close. "Wherever my little nephew spends the holidays, that's where I'll be," Molly declared. Leo, always the voice of reason, simply said, "Go on, then."

But his words hardly carried any weight.

Resigned, the couple stayed at the old house.

The cold season was upon them, and Mia hadn't even shopped for new clothes.

One day, Andre passed by the secretary's office at work and overheard the women discussing a trendy new coat in a magazine, all eager to snag one for the holidays.

This got him thinking about his young wife at home. She was in the prime of youth, yet seemed to have little interest in shopping for new clothes.

Returning home, Andre peeked into the wardrobe and saw Mia's outfits from years ago, while their son's clothes piled up, season after season. He decided it was time to treat his wife.

"Mia, feel like doing some shopping?" he asked, as Mia wrestled with their son's diaper.

"Sure, I'd love to, but being a mom doesn't leave much room for shopping sprees. Your son needs his milk, and I need to be with him," Mia replied, fastening the diaper. Andre looked at their "little burden" and made a suggestion. "Tomorrow, leave Henry with me. You go out and enjoy some shopping."

Mia turned to him, puzzled. "What's gotten into you, hubby?"

She didn't feel deprived for not shopping; being a mom meant prioritizing differently.

But Andre saw it differently. He felt Mia was missing out, that he had somehow neglected her.

"Don't let our son be a millstone around your neck. He's a child, and so are you in many ways. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your own comfort for him."

Mia laughed, touched by his concern. "Me, a child? I'm a mother now."

Thinking her husband's offer was just a casual remark, Mia was surprised the next morning when he firmly took their son from her arms and transferred a hefty sum into her account before heading off to work with the baby.

Mia was left both amused and bewildered by her husband's extravagant show of affection.

But with a rare day to herself, Mia stretched in the winter sun, free at last from the constant demands of motherhood. She eagerly called Naomi, "Let's hit the shops, I'm feeling flush!"

Naomi, ever the sophisticate, was the perfect shopping companion. In her late forties, she maintained her figure with a careful diet and regular exercise, including yoga, and had mastered the art of elegant dressing and makeup. Mia admired her, knowing she and Molly had much to learn if they wanted to age as gracefully.

Soon, Naomi was ready, her subtle perfume hinting at her meticulous preparation. Together, they set out to enjoy a day of shopping and indulgence.

Mia, ever the impish one, quipped, "Naomi, in my next life, I'll be a dude and marry you, how about that?"

Naomi's eyes crinkled with laughter. "You silly goose, you and Molly always talk such nonsense."

Just the other day, Molly had caught Naomi mid-yoga pose, marveling at her flexibility. She'd dashed off to tell Bruce, "Big bro, you're one lucky guy." Bruce just stared back, speechless.

As Naomi was about to leave, she thought of her sister-in-law. "Why didn't we invite Molly along?"

Mia, who'd been 'tortured' by her bestie's shopping habits, replied, "Oh please, Molly's got her own personal shopping sidekick, Chad. He's the wallet, the muscle, the chauffeur, and he's got an eye for style while still being able to keep up with her. Trust me, Naomi, you don't want to shop with Molly. You in your comfy flats wouldn't stand a chance against her in her stilettos!

Plus, haven't you noticed she's not even at home?"