Chloe Simpson suddenly lifted her head and stared fixedly at the gray-haired old man sitting on the sofa.
Yes, his expression did indeed appear rather stern, not soone easy to interact with.
After all, he was the patriarch of the Johnson Family, the richest household in Kyohai. It was natural for him to carry such lofty airs.
But she had never, not even in her wildest dreams, imagined that Soren Johnson’s first words would be "Keep the child, discard the mother."
She could hardly believe her ears. Her gaze locked onto Soren Johnson with an almost desperate intensity, trying to find even the slightest trace of hesitation or room for negotiation in his face or deanor.
But Soren remained seated upright on the sofa, his expression calm, without even the slightest ripple from beginning to end.
It was as if those four words—"Keep the child, discard the mother"—were so simple to him, utterly mundane, as casual as having an ordinary ho-cooked al.
Chloe clenched her fists tightly, biting down hard on her lips until the tallic taste seeped past her lips bit by bit, filling her entire mouth with the flavor of blood.
Only then did Chloe manage to regain a shred of her sanity.
Ha, what else could one expect from the Johnson Family, from the richest family in Kyohai?
Truly remarkable!
Keep the child, discard the mother!
Wonderful!
In this mont, she genuinely felt the bone-deep reality of what it ant to wield power and influence, to have the ability to control everything, to stand at the top as Kyohai’s wealthiest titan!
Money truly makes the world go round!
There couldn’t be a more accurate description!
Chloe felt as though her entire being had just been cast into a millennium-old icy abyss.
Every drop of blood in her body seed frozen, to the point where it could no longer flow.
She just stood there, waiting for the Johnson Family’s judgnt, the final sentence that would end her.
Because she knew, there was no way she could win against the Johnson Family. There was no point in resisting or fleeing—it was futile.
At this mont, her mind was consud by only a single thought.
If she could turn back ti, she would never, ever wish to have conceived Alexander Johnson’s child.
No, if she could, she would wish she had never t the Duke Harington, the Eldest Young Master of the Johnson Family.
She deeply wished she had never known Alexander Johnson at all.
All she had ever wanted was to lead a simple, ordinary life as a young woman.
To fall in love, marry, have children, and walk hand-in-hand for a lifeti with the person she loved—holding his hand, growing old together.
But even that—the simplest dream—had beco an impossible luxury for her.
Her heart felt as though a heavy hamr had shattered it into pieces, leaving it irreparable.
She had no choice but to accept her fate!
Right now, her last remaining concern was for her mother, Emily Sterling.
After all, this trouble was all on her. It was she who had climbed into Alexander’s bed that night of his wedding, and she who had entangled herself with him ti and ti again afterward.
Everything was her fault. Now that she couldn’t escape or evade the consequences, she would spare no effort to minimize the harm brought upon her mother.
On her knees, Gabriella Dyer, hearing these words, felt quite satisfied.
Ha! "Keep the child, discard the mother"! Excellent!
Now, it all depended on her dear son Alexander and how he chose to act.
Ideally, he would challenge the old man for Chloe Simpson’s sake.
If he did, she could easily achieve her goal, saving herself a great deal of effort!
anwhile, Alexander Johnson hadn’t expected the patriarch to utter such words either.
There was no way he would agree!
But he couldn’t afford to be impulsive. He had to co up with an argunt so compelling that even the old man couldn’t refuse, and thus protect Chloe.
Yet, as he furiously searched for solutions in his mind, Chloe spoke up.
"Sir, I agree—keep the child, discard the mother!"
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