16:25


    Chapter 73


    Quintessa dressed at a leisurely pace, unfazed by Mrs. York’s presence in the room.


    She wouldn’t be embarrassed even if it were her son standing there – modesty wasn’t exactly her


    strong suit.


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    But Ms. York was another story. The mention of her son sent her into a tizzy. “Nonsense, my son would


    never allow strangers in his


    home


    Tyrone was a private man. Even in the sprawling York estate, he’d make sure his bedroom was off–


    limits to everyone.


    Even his


    can downtown apartment was a fortress – his mother might drop by now and then, but friends? Never.


    His sanctuary remained untouched by outside influence.


    Mrs. York had been worried sick. Tyrone hadn’te home all night, and now it was past noon with no


    answer from his phone.


    So, here she was, checking on him, only to find a half–naked siren in his apartment.


    Quintessa slid into her jeans, taunting, “Auntie, you’re Tyrone’s mom, right? You’ve had kids; surely you


    don’t think I’m here just for a ss of water?”


    Mrs. York’s wrinkles seemed to deepen with her frown. “You shameless creature, how could my son


    possibly be interested in you?” Quintessa zipped up her jacket, ‘Sorry to burst your bubble, but your


    son, he’s quite taken with me. If he weren’t so head over heels, why would I be here?”


    Mrs. York pointed an usatory finger, “Just wait until my son deals with you.”


    Quintessa chuckled, “Funny you should say that. As the ‘siren, I’ve already ensnared your son.”


    With that, Mrs. York stormed toward the bedroom – a ce she rarely entered, and upon getting in the


    room, she found her son.


    He was asleep, with a nket slinging low around his waist, bare–chested in a way that screamed


    impropriety.


    Mrs. York’s mind raced with scandalous thoughts of the previous night’s encounters. Her only thought


    was like, her son had been taken advantage of.


    Quintessa headed for the door, but Mrs. York blocked her, “Hold on, you can’t leave. Who are you, and


    how did you ensnare my son?” Seeing Quintessa’s foxy grin only fueled Mrs. York’s ire. What was it


    about this girl that had captured her son’s attention? Leaning against the door with a mocking tone,


    Quintessa said, “Auntie, it happened. What more do you want? Should I take responsibility, or should


    he?”


    Mrs. York was speechless.


    Patting Mrs. York on the shoulder, Quintessa added, “If you don’t want me around your son, just step


    aside and let me go. And keep your son away from me.”


    Mrs. York retorted, “My son would never want you.”


    Quintessa smirked, “Yet, I did end up with your son.” Her hand went to her belly, “And who knows, if I’m


    not careful, I might just give you a grandson in ten months.”