And The Daddy Is… The Infertile Guy?! ( Vitality ) -
Chapter 88
Chapter 88
it took a while for them to sort out the deliveries, and only then did Howard emerge from the indoor elevátor. He had changed into formal attire, his black suit adorned with sapphire and diamond cufflinks that caught the light with every move.
It was very noticeable.
Gwendolyn glanced at him, a playful smirk curling her lips.
“Good morning, sir. Better hurry up and have breakfast,” Marina said, “Mr. Warren wants to see you.”
“I know.”
Howard approached the breakfast table, and Gwendolyn followed, getting him a glass of milk.
“Mr. Chadwick, about last night…”
“Did our miracle doctor not blackout?” His gaze lifted to meet hers. “I thought you’d forget again.”
Gwendolyn got nervous, carefully finding her words. “Mr. Chadwick, you said before… about dopamine being beyond one’s control. Just a craving, I understand.”
How could she ask him for mouth–to–mouth? This morning, she had rehearsed many excuses, determined to stay calm and not blush when facing him.
He
Seeing her feigned indifference, Howard almost laughed in exasperation.
He had made a similar comment but hadn’t expected this reaction from her.
Suddenly, he lost his appetite.
His phone on the table lit up, displaying a message. He frowned, opened it, and promptly deleted the conversation without a second glance.
Gwendolyn accidentally caught sight of the profile picture, an elegant white swan.
“Let’s head to the manor.”
His once easy–going expression mixed with irritation.
Cliff was already waiting outside. Gwendolyn fell silent, following Howard.
The car pulled up in front of Chadwick Manor.
Howard suddenly grabbed Gwendolyn’s hand. “What I have to do today might shock the masses. You may wait in the car.”
10:47
Gwendolyn shook her head. “I want to stay with you, Mr. Chadwick.”
Fine
Only Farrah was at the manor, looking down her nose at them disdainfully.
In the master bedroom, Warren rested in his rocking chair with his eyes closed.
“Sir, M. Howard is here,” the butler gently announced as he opened the door.
“Well, let him in.” Warren’s voice was heavy with years.
Gwendolyn and Howard entered the room.
Dressed in a tweed suit, Warren sat in his rocker. Spotting Gwendolyn, his eyes flashed with obvious distaste. “What is she doing here?”
“She’s my wife, so where I go, she’s right there with me.” Howard’s tone was indifferent.
“You’ve sunk low,” Warren retorted coldly.
“What did you want to see me about today?” Howard’s eyes were void of warmth, ice–cold. Warren slowly stood up, approaching Howard.
“Howard, you were once my pride and joy. But fate is cruel, and you can’t blame me.” His voice sounded with the weight of years.
“I’ve decided to announce at my 70th birthday that Bainbridge will inherit the Chadwick Group. I’ll give them my 30% of shares, and you’ll hand over your 5%.”
His words were a stab in the back. He had once vowed Howard and his family would receive a 5% share in dividends.
“With the Chadwick Group mostly minor shareholders, aside from Summit Corp holding a 20% stake, Bainbridge with 35% can secure his position. Show some largesse.”
Gwendolyn was seething with anger. So, Howard was to be sacrificed only to ensure Bainbridge’s position?
Howard watched Warren, feeling an icy block plummet into his chest, piercing his organs and freezing his blood.
His peripheral vision caught the “Share Transfer Agreement” on the bedside table, his pale skin a mocking canvas.
People played favorites!
He should have never, ever harbored any hope.
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