The little boy looked to be four or five years old. He was incredibly cute and chubby, his soft little lips pressed lightly together. His clothes were clearly custom-made and looked very luxurious.
Yvonne Sloan leaned down slightly, holding out the ice cream in her hand to the little boy. "Do you want some of this?"
The little boy nodded. "Miss, can I have it?"
"Sure."
The little boy took the ice cream from Yvonne Sloan, took a smiling bite, and said, "Thank you, Miss."
"Where are your parents? How come you're out here all by yourself?"
The little boy turned and pointed to a private club across the street. "My daddy's in there picking a mommy for me, but I didn't like any of them, so I came out."
As Yvonne Sloan looked at the little boy, she suddenly felt he looked familiar. She realized he was the son of Dylan Zane—the man who had returned from Wesland's Vornach Street and had been all over the financial news channels lately.
