Jonathan Shaw’s eyes lit up. He rushed forward to hug Cyrus Ford’s leg, but Sean Shelton intercepted him.
Lifting the boy by his collar, Sean offered a helpful warning. "Hey, dirty kid, don’t just grab this mister. He’s a germaphobe. If you touch him, he’ll throw you out!"
"Who are you? Let me go!" Jonathan glared at him in dissatisfaction, baring his little canine teeth. His chubby cheeks were scrunched together, making him look quite fierce. "Don’t get in the way of me claiming my daddy."
Sean was rendered speechless and froze in place. He wondered how this little guy’s face could be an exact replica of Cyrus’s. Not to mention the deep, sharp eyes and brows, even his disdainful, arrogant tone and expression were perfectly identical! He was just a bit cuter and chubbier. Swallowing hard, Sean looked back at Cyrus. It was a one-hundred percent match!
"Cyrus, you’re in big trouble!" Sean gloated, feeling like he was watching a good show. "Is it possible someone really didn’t know they had a son out there?"
"Sean, you’ve got some nerve."
Cyrus frowned. Blocked by Sean, he hadn’t yet seen what Jonathan looked like, so naturally, he didn’t understand the sarcastic remark. After his cold retort, Cyrus stepped forward and immediately spotted the little guy flailing his arms and legs, trying to break free from Sean’s grip. The child’s innocent yet cold face was flushed with anger, and his stubborn expression gave Cyrus an indescribable sense of familiarity.
Jonathan hung restlessly in the air, his eyes fixed on Cyrus. He cried for help, "Daddy, save me!"
Cyrus didn’t buy the act. Instead, he took the boy from Sean and ruthlessly dangled him in mid-air. "Who sent you?" he asked coldly.
Jonathan was utterly speechless. "As a father meeting his son for the first time, do you only know how to interrogate? Can’t you say a few words of concern?"
"I don’t have a son," Cyrus denied instantly.
"If you don’t have a son, why did you come to the police station? Are you feeling guilty?" Unable to break free, Jonathan simply planted his little hands on his hips and tilted his head back arrogantly, demanding an explanation.
Cyrus pursed his thin lips, his tone growing even colder. "Not going to tell me?"
The police officer broke into a cold sweat listening to their exchange. Even an outsider like him could see the striking resemblance between the two. How could they not be related by blood?! There was no way he was keeping this hot potato, Jonathan, at the police station!
"Uh... well, Mr. Ford, since you’re here, just sign the paperwork and you can take Little Miss Shaw away."
Cyrus shot an indifferent glance at the paperwork, showing no intention of signing it. "Haven’t you contacted the child’s mother?"
"Well, we don’t have Mrs. Ford’s contact information, so..." the police officer answered stiffly.
Jonathan looked up, noticing that Cyrus’s face remained icy cold, showing no signs of softening. His eyes darted around, and while no one was paying attention, he discreetly squeezed a few eye drops into his own eyes.
"Boo-hoo, Daddy, you can’t abandon me! It was so hard to find you!" Putting on a full-blown performance, the little guy opened his mouth wide and burst into loud wails. His sweet, childish voice sounded so pitiful and tragic that anyone who heard it would immediately feel their heart melt.
Cyrus furrowed his brows. He casually tossed Jonathan back to Sean. "Take him home."
Sean barely managed to catch the little guy. He stared at the child’s face for a long moment, his own face turning pale. Just being Cyrus’s lawyer and special assistant already gave him so much daily stress that he suffered from insomnia. Having a miniature version of Cyrus around would practically be the death of him!
Sean sensibly shoved Jonathan right back into Cyrus’s arms, beaming with a wide smile. "Mr. Ford, if Matriarch Ford finds out you have a son, she’d probably be half-cured from the good news alone! Would we even need to rack our brains trying to hire that famous international doctor, Penney?
"Besides, if you really have a son, it’ll be a great way to handle your family constantly pressuring you to marry and have kids. I know you don’t want to get engaged to Claire Lockwood. Isn’t this the perfect excuse?"
Cyrus stared at the pitiful, miserable-looking little guy in his arms, and it suddenly dawned on him where that sense of familiarity came from. This child and that damned woman both shared the surname Shaw. They were both bold and animated, with that same hint of cunning seeping into their very bones. Could this really be her child?
"Let’s take him back and settle him down for now."
Taking steady strides, Cyrus mercilessly tossed the little guy into the car. For a moment, Jonathan’s world spun. Quicker than a flash of lightning, he recovered and tightly clung to Cyrus’s shoulders with his little hands, wiping his snot and tears all over the man’s haute couture suit.
"Don’t test my limits," Cyrus warned, his face darkening as he pinched Jonathan’s chubby cheek. "Behave!"
The little guy turned his head away in defiance. He wondered what would happen if he didn’t behave. Did this man really think he could secretly get engaged to another woman behind Mommy’s back?! Smearing snot on his suit was barely a fraction of the revenge he deserved! However, the little guy opted to play it cool for now. He curled up in the corner of the car, stealthily pulled out his phone, and sent a text message.
Meanwhile, in Creston.
Melodious music drifted gently through a high-end restaurant where patrons were murmuring elegantly. Moments later, Zoe Shaw hurriedly pushed the doors open. Dressed in a white lab coat, she looked entirely out of place, especially with the laboratory-issued bouffant cap still securely on her head.
Even so, her snow-white complexion immediately drew everyone’s gaze. With her slightly arched brows and alluring almond eyes, the bright red lipstick on her lips didn’t look gaudy at all; instead, it elevated her aristocratic aura.
Just as Zoe was about to take her seat, the lights in the main hall suddenly dimmed. While everyone’s gaze lingered on her, a spotlight illuminated a man standing a short distance away.
Holding a bouquet of ice-blue roses, Zachary Morgan looked remarkably elegant in a tailored tailcoat. He strolled over slowly, his amber eyes brimming with a warm smile.
"Hi, Penney. This marks the twenty-fifth year since we first met."
"Are we celebrating our friendship?" Zoe’s eyes held a hint of distance as she took a small step back, avoiding the bouquet being offered to her.
Born in the same year as her, Zachary was publicly declared as the Shaw Family’s foster son. He was also the only surviving heir of the Morgan Family, which had once been a sister enterprise to the Shaw Group. They had grown up together since they were eight years old. However, ever since they reached adulthood, Zoe realized that he seemed to harbor romantic feelings for her.
"If possible, I’d like to take our relationship to the next level. I wonder if I might be worthy enough to stand by your side and grow old with you in the decades to come?" Zachary’s voice trembled slightly. His impeccably timed confession immediately piqued the curiosity of the onlookers.
"Be together! Say yes!"
The crowd of onlookers quickly broke into applause. The dim, warm lighting amplified the unspoken affection in the air. Under the weight of such a romantic atmosphere, refusing his proposal would leave him in an incredibly humiliating position.
"Zachary, you know I only see you as..."
Zoe pressed a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t the type to settle. Even though Zachary had stayed by her side through her darkest times, she had never developed romantic feelings for him over all these years, and she certainly wasn’t going to be swayed by a public confession now.
"If it’s because of Fu... because of what happened back then, it’s been five years. You should open up to someone new. Besides, wouldn’t it be better to have me looking after you and the two kids here in Creston?" Zachary’s smile was a little stiff, but he still tried to persuade Zoe, even humbling himself to make a joke. "You know I can cook and take care of kids. I’d make a pretty good stay-at-home husband. Don’t you want to give me a chance?"
"Zachary, we’ve been family since we were eight. I just can’t accept..."
Before Zoe could let out even harsher words, her phone suddenly rang, a timely interruption to this meaningless confession. She was well aware that Zachary had feelings for her, but if they were truly compatible, she wouldn’t have been keeping her distance from him all these years.
Zoe answered the video call, and Rory Shaw’s little face appeared on the screen, wrinkled in absolute misery.
"Mommy, it’s terrible! My brother is missing!"