For Morrison, coming to Burg Eltz every day, facing Lilian’s cold shoulders and occasional tantrums, was never a source of frustration. He understood her mood swings—her irritation, the sharp looks—were all natural, especially considering she wasn’t ready for pregnancy. Linda had even warned him that won often beca irritable and volatile during pregnancy, so he needed to be patient and avoid upsetting her.
Truthfully, Morrison didn’t need anyone to tell him. He willingly endured it all, without complaint, without a single trace of temper.
But Morrison wasn’t freeloading either. Most mornings, he brought breakfast—homade. No matter how late he had worked the night before, he woke early to prepare als that Lilian loved, bringing them straight to Burg Eltz. Of course, he didn’t just cook for Lilian; he prepared als for Daniel and Tiffany as well.
He wanted to ensure Lilian’s nutrition was carefully balanced, especially now that she was pregnant. While they had lived together before, breakfast wasn’t always guaranteed—sotis work or late-night activities left too little ti. Now, with Lilian carrying his child, he spared no effort.
Morrison had mastered cooking thanks to his own upbringing—grateful that Linda and the Mos family hadn’t been the most attentive at ho, he had honed skills that now served him well. Married and starting a family, he would never let his loved ones go without.
Every morning, his breakfasts were ticulously prepared: fresh fruit platters, a variety of dishes, all nutritionally balanced.
One morning, Laurent’s family of four was staying at the old Burg Eltz residence. Upon seeing Morrison’s breakfast spread, Laurent couldn’t help but exclaim:
"chef, if you posted this online, you’d go viral!"
He recalled a man recently trending on Twitter for cooking for his pregnant wife—but Morrison’s effort and skill far surpassed that. Tiffany added that the breakfasts were never repeated, day after day, and Laurent felt a pang of envy and heartbreak.
"This is a completely different al every single day?!"
Comparing to her own husband Dave’s modest culinary skills, Laurent felt simultaneously impressed and defeated. Dave shot a glare at Morrison, frustrated that the bar had been set so high.
Yet Morrison wasn’t doing it to compete or show off; he was cooking for his wife. Dave could hardly complain, and all he could do was stew silently in frustration, secretly admiring Morrison’s dedication.
As for Morrison constantly showing up at their house, Daniel would sotis shoot him a cold glare, even making snide remarks:
"So, you planning to marry into our family?"
Morrison chuckled warmly, unfazed.
"Well, it wouldn’t be impossible. After all, my mom still has a son."
Daniel was speechless... He’s shaless to this degree? Even as a prospective father-in-law, he had to admit defeat.
One evening, after dinner, the restaurant had cleared, leaving only Daniel and Morrison. Daniel suddenly asked, his tone neutral but with a hint of curiosity:
"Do you prefer a boy or a girl?"
Morrison glanced at his future father-in-law, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"Would you like the truth... or a lie?"
Daniel blinked, incredulous.
"Well, which is it?"
Morrison’s smirk deepened.
"The truth is, I want a boy."
Before Daniel could even react, Morrison added calmly, almost softly,
"But I know you might think wanting a boy is favoring sons over daughters. It’s not that."
His smile faded slowly, replaced by a hint of lancholy.
"I don’t want a girl because... I don’t think I could bear seeing her soday get married. That scene... I couldn’t take it."
Just thinking about his daughter—who he had always treated like a princess in the palm of his hand—being given away to another man soday made Morrison feel uneasy. Even though he didn’t have a daughter yet, the re thought of that scene was unbearable.
So, in a way, he could understand Daniel’s dislike of him. Daniel would always carry a grudge for the tis Morrison had hurt Lilian. Even if he treated Morrison politely now, it was only out of respect for Lilian, not because he genuinely liked his future son-in-law.
After hearing Morrison’s reason for wanting a son, Daniel didn’t want to say another word. That brat had just hit his sore spot. Would he really let his daughter marry soone—especially soone ten years older than her who had once hurt her? The thought alone made Daniel’s chest tighten. Without another word, he got up and turned to leave.
"Hey—Daniel!"
Morrison stepped forward to stop him. Daniel glared angrily.
"What do you want?"
Morrison stood tall, his handso face sincere and steady.
"I’ll treat Lilian well from now on. I won’t let her suffer."
His words rang clearly in the silent dining room, carrying a promise to Daniel—and to Lilian, who was just outside.
Biting her lip, Lilian felt her eyes redden.
Though she had been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days, each morning, his carefully prepared breakfast slowly lted away her anger. Not because the food was exquisite, but because the thoughtfulness behind it touched her heart.
She rembered reading sowhere that won could never resist a man’s gentleness and care. And now, she felt exactly that. The anger she had felt over her unplanned pregnancy had long dissipated. She had co over now to tell him that he could stay tonight, and tomorrow morning she would pack up and go ho with him.
She knocked lightly on the dining room door and entered. Daniel glanced at her and then left, giving the two of them space.
Morrison’s lips curved into a smile as he approached her. Lilian’s gaze t his, and when she saw the depth of emotion in his eyes, she suddenly felt a little guilty for her recent unreasonable behavior. She averted her eyes and cleared her throat to mask her embarrassnt.
The past few days had been tense. After discovering she was pregnant, she had stord off in frustration, refusing to see him. Even when he ca by, she had avoided him or ignored him, barely looking at him during als. She hadn’t really seen the expression in his eyes, just lost herself in her own anger.
Now, however, she wondered why she felt guilty at all. She hadn’t done anything wrong—he was the one who had used underhanded thods to make her pregnant. Didn’t she have the right to be angry?
She turned back to look at him, her eyes narrowing.
Morrison, amused by her ever-changing emotions, stepped closer and looked down at her.
"So... are you angry or not?"
His voice was gentle, tinged with a hint of exasperation, leaving Lilian speechless.
She glared at him for a long mont, then stomped her foot in frustration.
"Go away!"
Then she turned and walked away. She had co intending to let him stay the night, yet the words that slipped out were ones telling him to leave. Lilian herself didn’t understand why she had said that.
Morrison wasn’t about to let her go. He stepped forward, blocking her path, and drew her into his arms. Softly, he said,
"I was wrong."
He knew that she had been giving him the cold shoulder these past few days—still angry—but now that she had co to him on her own, she must have cald down. There was no way he was letting her leave.
Lilian let out a snort and raised her hand to push him away.
"Wrong? Has the Lord ever done anything wrong?"
Her words were tinged with sarcasm, and Morrison couldn’t help but laugh. He leaned down and kissed the corner of her lips.
"In front of you? Where’s the aura of a great lord? I can’t even dare to breathe freely."
He grinned mischievously, sneaking kisses while coaxing her softly.
"I admit, it was wrong of to play those little tricks that got you pregnant, but you have to understand the heart of a man approaching forty, desperately wanting a child..."
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