Their Villain, The Mogul's Beloved novel Chapter 208

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 treat me as him? I 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 I am?‘

*****

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, take me for 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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Chapter 208

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 some reason, Alexei found himself envying his 32–year–old self.

*****

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 become his 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 home at 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 I 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 time you see me, I 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 some food, 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, become a 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, I 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 I love Mom super, super, super, super much!”

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

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

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