Their Villain, The Mogul's Beloved

Chapter 208

“So, you're only eighteen?” Natasha looked at him incredulously.

She instinctively recognized her own man. Whether young or old, certain subtle gestures and expressions never

changed. She had only guessed he might have amnesia or something of the sort, but the reality before her was

far more astonishing than she had imagined.

Fortunately, she had a vague intuition that the 32-year-old Alexei would soon

return.

The problem was the Alexei before her, whose soul was only eighteen. He...

“Can you treatas him? | want to see what his day is like.” Having confessed, Alexei made his request directly.

He had always assumed he would live his life alone, yet the future version of himself he had just glimpsed had a

wife and daughter. The man in the mirror radiated happiness naturally, a stark contrast to the future he had

envisioned.

Strangely, he felt no aversion toward the woman before him or the lively, adorable little girl, even without

memories of those years.

He wondered, ‘So, what changed me?

‘What made him who | am?’

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Alexei tensed, carefully watching over Joyce as she perched on the pony.

She was still too young; the ride was only for the thrill of sitting atop the animal. Soon, Alexei, keeping a close

eye on her, lifted her gently.

“Dad, Dad, takefor a ride,” Joyce asked as she grabbed his pant leg.

Alexei raised an eyebrow and picked her up.

Joyce cheered, “Mom, let's race!”

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Accompanied by a childish “Go!*“, the two horses galloped forward.

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Alexei, who was mindful of the child in his arms, dared not push the pony to full speed, and Natasha easily

claimed victory.

After the finish line, she beamed radiantly at father and daughter.

The little one in his arms sighed in a childish voice, “We lost again! Mom is so good!”

The word “defeat” had never existed in Alexei’s lexicon, yet at that moment, he found losing was not so

unpleasant.

It turns out that life isn’t always about winning.

Before his emotions settled, two warm, fragrant kisses landed on his cheeks-one from the little one in his arms,

the other from his “wife” at his side.

“But Dad is also great,” Joyce beamed.

Unlike the Turner family tradition, where only winners receive rewards, in this small family, love was not

contingent on success.

For sreason, Alexei found himself envying his 32-year-old self.

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The trip to the equestrian center was cut short as Shawn had called Natasha.

Alexei had not responded to his messages, so Shawn asked whether he would still attend the company meeting

that afternoon.

Alexei had intended to refuse after hearing Natasha's recounting, but she persuaded him to go.

“Work is one of your achievements too. Go see the business empire you've built,” she encouraged.

The Turner Group flourished under Alexei’s leadership, far surpassing its previous peak.

Upon arriving at the office, Alexei understood why Natasha had brought him.

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The office was somber and understated, reflecting Alexei’s consistent style, yet every detail radiated subtle

vitality.

On the desk were his and Natasha's travel photos, a family portrait of the three of them, children’s toys

scattered in the lounge, Natasha's sketchbooks, soft and cozy blankets...

They infused his once-monotonous world with vibrant color.

At eighteen, Alexei fought to acquire resources and reach the top; revenge had been his sole purpose.

At thirty-two, he worked to create a better life for his wife and daughter; happiness had bechis enduring

pursuit.

No matter the time, the effort he put in was never empty or meaningless, nor should it be solely defined by

hatred.

Alexei often brought Joyce to work. She had made herself at hat the Turner Group, sprawled happily on the

sofa with a large pile of snacks from various uncles and aunties, engrossed in a comic book.

The energetic child, knowing her father was busy, remained quietly well-behaved.

Natasha sat at her feet, sketching idly in her sketchbook.

As Shawn reported on work matters, Alexei let his gaze drift toward mother and daughter, finally settling on

Natasha's focused profile.

He heard Shawn mention that one of his old rivals abroad was struggling.

Alexei glanced nervously at Natasha, worried his dark, violent past might unsettle

her.

Yet she looked up and smiled softly at him.

In that instant, Alexei understood her gaze: “You don’t need to be perfect; you don’t need to be righteous.” She

accepted him fully, even empathizing with his experiences.

To eighteen-year-old Alexei: Do not be afraid. Do what you believe is right.

Chapter 208

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The family of three later went to the supermarket again.

Natasha reminded him that he had mentioned last night that he would cook

today.

After speaking, she glanced hesitantly at Alexei, who was pushing the shopping cart and seemed slightly

overwhelmed by such warm, everyday routines.

She suggested, “Uh, maybe let the chef handle it instead?”

Alexei pursed his lips, “I can do it.”

‘What was that look she gave? Alexei, at thirty-two, was an excellent cook, but am | really that bad at eighteen?”

Alexie wondered, and he inexplicably felt competitive.

As it turned out, he was still a little lacking.

Hearing Joyce lick a rib and mumble that Dad’s cooking had worsened, Alexei instinctively glanced at Natasha.

She smiled, nodded, and said, “It can certainly improve.”

Alexei’s ears turned red.

He had cooked only to fill his stomach. Survival had been his sole concern; culinary refinement had been

irrelevant.

“I will learn,” he said, meeting her gaze.

‘Next tyou see me, | will make your favorite dishes,’ he silently promised.

Natasha suddenly found eighteen-year-old Alexei incredibly endearing.

Her gaze was direct; Alexei shifted uncomfortably, served her sfood, and feigned indifference. “Eat,” he

instructed.

Natasha chuckled.

Joyce, who was sitting in her high chair and eating with a small spoon, heard her mother laugh, swung her short

legs, and grinned, showing her tiny teeth.

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A warmth unconsciously softened Alexei’s features.

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After their evening stroll, Natasha went to shower, leaving Alexei to put the little princess to bed.

As he read a storybook, Joyce rested her chin on her hands, lying atop his belly. Her doll-like face reflected each

twist and turn of the tale with a flurry of expressions.

Alexei gently squeezed her chubby, rosy cheeks. “This is the last story,” he said, “you should sleep now.”

The little girl released her hands, rested her chin on his belly, and closed her eyes. “I'm already asleep,” she

murmured.

Her trembling eyelashes clearly showed she planned to keep playing once her dad left.

Alexei had never liked fragile beings, yet facing Joyce, perhaps because of their blood tie, he felt an infinite

softness in his heart.

He stroked her little head and asked, “Joyce, do you like Dad?”

Years later, could he, a man who had never truly known love, beca capable and devoted father?

Joyce, who had been pretending to sleep, opened her eyes wide, seemingly puzzled by his question. Yet, she

replied with unrestrained enthusiasm, “Of course, Dad, | love you super, super, super much!”

Her dad was the best dad in the whole world!

Thinking of her mom, who wasn’t there, she didn’t forget to include Natasha, adding, “And | love Mom super,

super, super, super much!”

Mom has one more ‘super’ than Dad because Dad said Mom had a very hard tgiving birth to her.

During the final months of Natasha's pregnancy, Alexei had been so anxious he

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could barely sleep. Sadie had even secretly told Joyce that when she and Natasha were wheeled out of the

delivery room, Alexei had quietly wept.

Joyce found her mother incredibly brave for giving birth to her!

Alexei suddenly hugged her and said, “Darling, thank you.”

A confused Joyce patted her father’s shoulder with her small hand and said, “You're welcome.”

Alexei curved his lips into a soft smile.

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The 32-year-old Alexei was an insatiable force, but the 18-year-old Alexei remained an innocent young man who

didn’t even dare glance at the body revealed by her nightgown.

Natasha pinned him to the bed and deliberately teased him, saying, “How do you usually call me?”

Alexei didn’t know what to do with his hands. He struggled to ignore the closeness and warmth. Could the older

version of himself really be that experienced?

Recalling the cabfilled with unfamiliar clothes and toys he had stumbled upon earlier that morning while

searching for her clothes, his face darkened.

It appeared he truly was quite experienced.

Facing the beautiful woman above him, her eyes playful, an unexpected surge of jealousy flared in his heart.

He shifted positions, covering her eyes with his large hand, his voice hoarse,

“Don’t look at me,” Alexei said.

In just a single day, he had grown accustomed to her scent and the simple pleasure of holding her. If Natasha

looked at him again, he would not want to

leave.

He lay over her, holding her tightly before asking, “Natasha, when did we meet?”

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Chapter 208

“In April, on an intoxicating spring night,” she replied.

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‘So, Alexei, if you find a broken little rose by the roadside one day, take her hand cherish her with care,” she

thought.

As the clock struck twelve, Natasha felt a warm drop of water slide down her neck. He released her, lightly kissed

her forehead, and said, “I will find you.”

Natasha also smiled gently at him and reassured, “Alexei, don’t be afraid. I'll wait for you in the future.”

‘To the eighteen-year-old Alexei, don’t give up on yourself, and don’t let yourself get hurt. We will reunite one

day.

‘No matter how many times or under what circumstances, those in love will fall for each other countless times,”

Natasha silently promised.

“The End-

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