Fear clouded Rory Shaw’s sparkling eyes. Her little mouth puckered as if she had suffered a terrible grievance.
"Where did that little brat run off to? He was fine when we left. He’s really asking for a spanking."
Zoe Shaw’s face darkened. These two were her darlings. She had just been a little busy over the past couple of days and hadn’t been able to keep a close eye on them. Now, having finally finished her work at the research lab, she was greeted by this explosive news. Having not slept for three days, her heart suddenly pounded violently in her chest.
"WAAAH, I don’t know! I woke up from a nap and my brother was gone. Over the past two days, I kept hearing him say he wanted to find Daddy... Mommy, did he really go find Daddy?"
Daddy!
Zoe almost coughed up blood from sheer fury at that word! She had told Jonathan Shaw countless times to give up on the idea of looking for his father. If push came to shove, he could just treat Zachary Morgan as his dad! But the little boy stubbornly refused. It seemed that man’s stubbornness and obstinacy were deeply ingrained in Jonathan’s blood.
"Okay, Mommy knows. You must be good at home. I’ll be right back... No, Mr. Morgan will go back to take care of you right away!"
"Okay, I’ll wait at home for Mr. Morgan!"
Rory suppressed the excitement in her voice and sent a message to Jonathan, who was far away in another country: Mommy took the bait!
Zoe hung up in a hurry and looked helplessly at the man across from her. "Jonathan is missing. Go to my place and keep an eye on Rory first. I’m afraid something might happen to her too."
"But where are you going to find Jonathan?" Zachary asked. He set down the bouquet in his hands, his brow furrowed, and waved away the small crowd of onlookers with a deeply worried look.
"I put a GPS tracker on him. As long as I turn it on, I can see his location." Without wasting a single second, Zoe activated the tracker app. The cursor on the screen spun lazily a couple of times before finally locking onto a location.
The Ford Estate in Avenburg.
Her face instantly turned deathly pale. Following her gaze, Zachary also saw the line of text. The Ford Family of Avenburg. What other Ford could it be? She did intend to return to Avenburg, but she certainly didn’t want to go back this way!
She forced away the rising memories, trying her hardest to erase her fear and reluctance toward this address. "Zachary, I’m leaving Rory in your care. If Jonathan really found him, I’m afraid it won’t be that easy to get him back..."
"Don’t worry just yet. Wait for me to pick up Rory, and we’ll go back with you. We definitely won’t let Jonathan be snatched away by Cyrus Ford."
"No, you don’t understand. A man like Cyrus Ford... he will never allow his own flesh and blood to wander the streets." Zoe’s eyes reddened slightly, and her flickering gaze gradually became resolute. "No, I need to return to the country immediately!"
No matter what, she had to resolve this before things became a foregone conclusion.
"It’s too dangerous. I won’t let you face this alone," Zachary stopped her. "What’s more, he’s been constantly harassing you with emails, wanting you to return to treat Madam Ford. He might already know who you are."
"Zachary, you’re overthinking it. The year I left Avenburg, he was already engaged to Claire Lockwood. By now, they probably even have kids. He’s only emailing me because he knows my identity as an international medical research expert. It just so happens I was planning to use this identity to return anyway. You don’t need to worry about me. I just have to ask you to take care of Rory."
Zoe smiled faintly, a hidden resilience in her eyes. Zachary knew he couldn’t stop her. With a long sigh, he escorted her to the airport.
At the Ford Estate.
Inside the luxurious living room, a tiny, chubby figure was peering around, looking this way and that. Suddenly, the tiny figure stopped in front of a tall, imposing shadow. He tilted his head back, narrowing his sharp, striking eyes. After a thorough scan, a satisfied smile finally curved onto his fair, tender face.
Ordinary people would never dare to meet Cyrus’s eyes. Yet this little boy, who couldn’t be more than three or four years old, stared straight at him with clear, completely unafraid eyes. He even seemed to be scrutinizing the man.
This actually made the nearby butler take a liking to the boy. Having watched Cyrus grow up, the butler knew exactly how he had slowly transformed into his current self. He seemed indifferent to everything now, yet in the span of a casual conversation, he could effortlessly destroy a company or elevate someone to a position of absolute power. The entire fate of Avenburg was firmly within this man’s grasp.
"Congratulations, you pass. Your looks and wealth are barely worthy of my mommy," Jonathan spouted brazenly.
Cyrus looked down at him, his gaze as cold as frost. He gently rubbed the agarwood beads between his fingers, smiling faintly. "And where did you deduct the remaining forty points?"
Jonathan stared at him thoughtfully, his clear, bright eyes swirling with confusion. He suddenly opened his mouth and scolded in a childish voice, "First of all, it looks like you don’t even know who my mommy is. What a scumbag! Second, you’re not as nice as Mr. Morgan. Every time he sees me, he hugs me, cares about me, and buys me gifts! You’re just like a block of wood—completely clueless!"
The butler’s heart skipped a beat. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the noble figure beside him. The man merely sat down with casual grace, crossing his long legs elegantly. The clicking of the wooden beads slowed, and his indifferent voice rang out once more.
"Mr. Morgan... just how nice is he? Why don’t you teach me."
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. Huffing, he crossed his little arms and sat down arrogantly next to Cyrus. "Want to learn? You have to put your heart into it, understand? I’m easy to please, which is why I gave you a passing score. But if you want to woo my mommy, you’ve still got a long way to go."
"Jonathan Shaw."
Cyrus’s voice wasn’t particularly cold, but Jonathan inexplicably shivered. It felt like an innate submission ingrained deep within his blood.
"What do you want?"
"Do you know where the last person who called me Daddy is right now?"
"Lalala, I’m not listening! All I hear is a grumpy old tortoise!" Without waiting for the man to finish, Jonathan quickly clapped his hands over his ears and puffed out his chest, daring Cyrus to do something about it.
The butler couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. The young master had been just as mischievous when he was a little boy. People truly did change as they grew up.
Just then, Sean Shelton pushed open the door and walked in. Sensing the somewhat awkward atmosphere, he raised an eyebrow and shot Cyrus a teasing grin. "No way! Is the great President Ford actually being put in his place?!"
Cyrus didn’t even bat an eyelid. The temperature in the room plummeted. Sean jolted and dropped his playful demeanor, immediately becoming serious. "Mr. Ford, that miracle doctor from abroad, Penney. She replied to the email, saying she is willing to return to the country to treat Madam Ford! However..."
"However what?" Cyrus raised his eyes, the clicking of the beads in his hand coming to a halt.
"She said she’s arriving tonight!"
"What?!" Jonathan shouted. His reaction was bigger than anyone else’s present.
He knew Mommy would come, but he didn’t know Mommy would come this fast!