It’s perfectly reasonable for him to ask this.
Declan Hawthorne living in the main building is even more fitting than Hugo’s residence here.
There’s no need to move.
Jackie Barrett’s eyelids twitched, but her face remained composed, exuding an air of elegance and authority.
"Declan and Poppy are newlyweds, after all. Living with us two old folks isn’t much fun. Your uncle and I also need so space."
"Originally, these buildings are your respective properties. The issues with your parents stem from our generation’s mistakes. Now the houses are yours. How you divide them is up to you behind closed doors; it’s not my place to interfere."
Jackie, after all, has been Mrs. Hawthorne for many years.
The poise and regal authority in her tone indicated she was issuing a statent, not seeking their opinions.
Jackie firmly stated, "From now on, your lives are yours to live. Just know, if you commit any disgraceful act, the Hawthorne family has its own rules for punishnt."
"If you need your uncle and , feel free to co back to the main house anyti."
All the younger ones got up and acknowledged with a ’yes.’
Thus, the matter was settled.
Jackie switched the topic.
"Ronan, your grandpa wants you to visit at noon. He’s invited Grandpa Hayes and his family. Don’t forget to tidy up."
Everyone paused.
They suddenly rembered that on Old Master Hawthorne’s birthday, Grandpa Hayes brought Hailey Hayes and had a long conversation with Ronan.
This was clearly setting Ronan up with Hailey.
The Hayes Family is in the dical sector.
In earlier years, their reputation wasn’t great, with many dical incidents at several of their hospitals.
They still face many lawsuits.
In truth, the Hawthorne Family generally wouldn’t consider such in-laws.
But for the Hawthorne’s second house, it was sowhat an appropriate match.
Tristan and Justin Hawthorne said nothing, just continued eating their breakfast in front of them.
After all, it was arranged by the Old Master.
Ronan was montarily stunned but then nodded, "Okay, I understand. Thank you, Auntie."
The dining table was full to capacity.
But the atmosphere was heavy and dreary.
Even Florence, sitting in the child’s seat, felt it.
She quietly spoke to Poppy Hale.
"Mom, I miss Iris."
Jordan Barrett had moved out with Iris Quill, intending to stay long-term in Arvum to look after his daughter and grandson.
Heather Underwood had been taking Iris around for elentary school interviews these days. It had been days since Florence last saw her little chubby friend.
Jackie Barrett smiled, "It’s Florence’s birthday this weekend. Your brother, Iris, will be there too, so you’ll see him then."
"Okay. Then I want to give him the cookies Grandma Big Bear bought yesterday. Is Grandma Little Bear coming too?"
"Yes, she’ll co. Didn’t Grandma give you a box of cookies yesterday? Didn’t you finish them?"
Florence shook her head.
"Mom says I’m a little kid who needs to protect my teeth. I originally wanted to eat just one piece and save the other for Iris, but it slled so good I couldn’t help but keep inhaling it and ate it all myself!"
All the adults were amused.
Hugo Hawthorne also softened his tone.
"Florence, do you like Iris?"
"Yes, Iris has passed my test, and we’re good friends."
Florence’s thinking was clearer than the average three-year-old.
She expressed herself fluently, sotis not clearly articulated, but her logic was intact.
Florence sought Poppy Hale’s opinion.
"Mom, are we moving?"
"Yes, we’ll first move across the street. After your birthday, we’ll move with Grandma to another place, which will be much closer to your future school."
"After we move, can Iris and Aunt York co play at our house?"
Poppy Hale found this amusing and asked the child, "Why?"
"Aunt York and Iris are both lonely. I have Mom and Dad, Grandpa and Grandma Big Bear, Grandma and Auntie, but Aunt York and Iris don’t."
Florence looked up at Poppy.
"Just like before, we were happy but a little bored."
Poppy Hale’s heart fluttered slightly.
Looking into her daughter’s pure, innocent eyes, full of concern for Iris and Heather Underwood.
Previously, their family of three was in the sa situation as Heather’s.
Although still young, children sotis understand everything.
Poppy Hale patted Florence’s little cheek and smiled tenderly.
"Alright, but don’t you want to ask Dad when he cos back?"
"Okay."
Ronan glanced at Florence.
She wore a red cape edged with plaid, dressed like Little Red Riding Hood, with the cap trimd with fluffy rabbit fur, making her look artfully adorable.
Clearly a cherished and well-nurtured child.
In the past, he never had such monts.
Because at the old house, Old Master Hawthorne prohibited speaking at the dining table.
They weren’t allowed to talk during als.
When Florence spoke, Poppy Hale would also gently stop her.
But it was always in a gentle voice, reminding her to eat first and talk later.
Whenever the kid spoke, Poppy would instinctively respond softly, "Mom’s here."
Hugo Hawthorne and Jackie Barrett watched them smilingly.
The warmth in their gaze burned the dark recesses of Ronan’s heart, causing a vague, painful decay.
-
In the morning at Hawthorne Group, the employees sighed in chorus.
Amber Yates yawned as she clocked in, when soone pressed close behind her, "Amber, let swipe the card with you."
The turnstile at Hawthorne Tower required a card to enter.
Amber’s drowsiness was cut in half, almost ready to jump up and say there was a pervert.
Once past the turnstile and seeing the familiar face, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Poppy, you scared to death! What are you doing here so early?"
"I ca to bring breakfast to my husband. He worked overti all night and didn’t co ho."
Amber’s mouth twitched, feeling a wave of helplessness from the public display of affection.
In the morning, when Morgan Sloan was about to leave, Poppy specifically said it was unnecessary, and Justin Hawthorne escorted her out.
She turned around and ca directly to Hawthorne Group.
Amber noticed the lunchbox in Poppy’s hand as they stood side by side, waiting for the elevator.
For a mont, both were taken back to the days of squeezing into elevators in the morning.
Amber, "Why aren’t you using the exclusive elevator for the higher floors?"
Poppy replied honestly, "I don’t have a card. Others in the company don’t know about Declan and I getting married."
Imagine that.
Does anyone in this elevator crowd know they’re crowding in with the president’s wife?
She knows, is she showing off?
She’s not.
Amber remarked jealously, "I haven’t had breakfast either. If I had a wife bringing breakfast every day, I would want a wife too. I could pay a bride price and even have kids."
Poppy responded with a neutral ’oh.’
As Amber was about to step out, Poppy took a portion from the lunchbox and stashed it into Amber’s arms.
"It’s for you and Janine. Rember to give the child my surna and transfer the bride price to via WeChat after having the kid."
While Amber was still dazed, the elevator doors closed and went up.
Amber: "... Huh?!"
The elevator opened at the executive office floor.
Poppy carried the lunchbox and strode into Declan Hawthorne’s office.
Seeing her, Morgan Sloan quickly approached.
"Ma’am, President Hawthorne is in the lounge; he should be freshening up."
"Alright, you can carry on with your work."
Inside the lounge, water flowed gently from the faucet as a man scooped water to wash his face.
His upper body was bare, with scars left on his waist and abdon, remnants of a healed knife wound.
Poppy leaned against the door, admiring the handso man in his cleansing ritual.
She whistled.
"Hey, handso, mind adding as a friend?"
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