The Contract Said No Strings Attached (Charlotte) novel Chapter 10

Four years later.

Outside WyeRoyal Sprouts Preschool, a parade of luxury cars lined the curb, but none drew more attention than the sleek, black Rolls-Royce Phantom stretching along the sidewalk.

The car door opened with quiet elegance, and Rebecca Thomson stepped out.

She wore a cream-colored cashmere coat and a pair of stylish heels. Her figure was slim, her long, dark curls cascading loosely over her shoulders. Amid the crowd of parents, she stood out with an effortless grace, every movement radiating poise and refinement.

Rebecca’s allure had always been unique. Years of ballet lessons, a talent for music and the arts—she was sophisticated yet refreshingly unpretentious, like an impressionist landscape painted in soft, serene hues. There was a gentle warmth about her, a beauty that soothed rather than dazzled.

As she walked past, the men nearby couldn’t help but stare, eyes lighting up in admiration. A few even drifted closer, hoping to strike up a conversation with this impossibly elegant woman.

But Rebecca paid them no mind. She strode toward the school entrance, her heart fluttering with anticipation for the reunion that awaited her after dismissal—the embrace of her four little boys.

Today was their birthday.

How quickly the years had flown. Four years ago, Rebecca had been brought home by William, who reunited her with her biological parents.

At first, she’d thought her birth parents were simply wealthy. It wasn’t until later that she discovered the truth: the Thomson family wasn’t just rich—they were legendary. She was, in fact, the long-lost youngest daughter of an ancient and powerful dynasty.

The Foster family, where she’d grown up, was considered elite in Zion—but the Thomsons were in a league of their own. In Mystoria, their name was synonymous with old money, power, and mystery. Their fortune spanned industries and continents, with assets rumored to be in the billions.

Overnight, Rebecca had gone from being the ersatz heiress of a prominent family to the true daughter of one of the world’s greatest houses.

These past years, she had blossomed under the Thomsons’ care, pampered like a rose in the morning sun. If she’d once been a simple daisy, now she had become a rare and radiant flower—captivating, fragrant, and impossible to ignore.

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and four little boys appeared, following their teacher in a neat line like a row of ducklings.

“Mommy!”

Noah, ever observant, was the first to spot Rebecca in the distance. He waved enthusiastically, his small hand slicing the air.

They were like four little stars, each shining in their own way, lighting up Rebecca’s world.

As the boys barreled toward her, Rebecca felt her heart melt. She wanted nothing more than to scoop them up and smother them with kisses.

All four were boys—a stroke of “luck” that Mrs. Thomson herself had experienced. Rebecca, just like her mother, had a house full of boys.

Back when Mrs. Thomson had given birth, she’d once lamented, brow furrowed, “Why couldn’t just one of them be a little girl?” George, ever the pragmatist, had shrugged and said, “That’s the Thomson family genes for you. Boys are easier—less fuss, less expense. We only need one precious daughter, after all.”

But for all his words, their love had never wavered.

Rebecca, the apple of her parents’ eye, had been showered with affection—and, by extension, so had her four sons. In the Thomson household, these boys were cherished as if they were little princes.

Now, the four of them stood before her, heads held high and chests puffed out like miniature sculptures.

Rebecca knelt down, ruffling each of their soft heads, her face glowing with tenderness. Her gaze lingered on them, finally coming to rest on Ethan, her little troublemaker.