At this mont, she had truly given up. Facing his ingratiating smile, she felt nothing but repulsion.
Seeing him as a stranger was a testant to the death of her love for him.
Even its traces, she had forcefully erased.
Mila Anderson indifferently considered walking past him.
"Mila," Gian Horne imdiately blocked her path, trapping her between himself and the car.
His face was filled with regret as he gazed at Mila Anderson. His deep-set eyes, sharing a resemblance to Glades Horne's, were now devoid of their usual brilliance. Instead, they held a pleading eagerness and a remorse as vast as the sea.
"Can we talk?"
"We have nothing left to talk about, Gian. If you don't want to lose all respect for you, please step aside." Mila Anderson lifted her gaze. Her face, once unable to et Gian Horne's eyes, now radiated confidence fueled by her own career. It brimd with a rare beauty—one that Gian had seen before on the face of his daughter-in-law, Julia. He hadn't expected to see it on his own wife's face.
In his mind, his wife had always been a woman with no redeeming qualities, like a parasite.
"Mila..."
Gian Horne's voice sounded rough.
"Please step aside."
Mila Anderson's eyes grew colder.
If it weren't for the old lady's sake, she wouldn't even want to lay eyes on him.
Pheobe Rogers got what she deserved, but what about this chief instigator? There he stood before her, requesting a talk with an apologetic face. What was there to talk about? About him changing his heart? Sorry, she had given him thirty years to change, and that was the absolute limit. Only now did she realize how pitiful and foolish she had been.
She felt that he was the one who should be punished the most.
Pheobe Rogers, in truth, was also a victim.
However, it takes two to tango. Both he and Pheobe Rogers were as bad as each other.
Receiving Mila Anderson's cold, distant gaze, Gian Horne's expression swiftly changed. He slowly stepped aside, letting Mila Anderson walk past him.
The courtyard was silent.
The setting sun was beautiful, casting a golden light across the courtyard, blanketing the scenery in a layer of gold and enhancing its natural, luxurious beauty.
Gian Horne stood in the courtyard alone, engulfed by a mood of dejection.
Glades Horne and Julia were strolling along the paths of the Golden Kirin Garden with little Ivan.
He pushed the baby stroller while Julia walked alongside him.
Several vehicles passed them, not paying them undue attention.
The Golden Kirin Garden was vast, with many residents. The city's most esteed figures almost all resided here; every person one ca across had status and position.
Of course, they weren't really acquainted with one another; they just knew who lived in which villa. Glades Horne was a public figure, well-known to everyone. However, people were used to recognizing each other by their cars. At that mont, Glades was in casual dress. He had softened his stern look, hidden his sharp edges, and was wearing glasses. Appearing refined and dignified, like a scholar of profound learning, no one gave him undue scrutiny.
Glades Horne had been pursing his lips from the mont they left the house and hadn't spoken a word. Julia knew he was in a bad mood, so she too chose silence, giving him space to ponder.
Little Ivan gazed curiously at the sky above, neither crying nor fussing, looking utterly content.
His cute little legs would occasionally kick, easily dislodging the small blanket covering him.
Every ti this happened, Glades Horne would carefully stop pushing the stroller, gently re-cover Ivan with the blanket, and look at him with a tender gaze.
"Glades, what do you plan to do about Dad?" Julia softly asked as he once again covered Ivan with the blanket, noting the softening of his features. She also reached out to adjust the blanket for her son.
Straightening up, Glades simply glanced at the sky above and then resud pushing the stroller, his lips still pursed.
How to deal with his father?
Could he send his father to jail, too?
Could he bring about his father's death?
No.
Beyond cutting off his father's finances, he didn't know what else he could do.
After all, that was his father!
He couldn't be as ruthless as Hansen Ruiz, who could turn against his own family.
Yet he truly couldn't let go of his feelings towards his father; resentnt and respect coexisted within him.
It was complicated, unbearable.
That grand word, "father," was so glaring in his world.
Knowing his inner struggle, Julia didn't press further but covered his large hand with hers.
Glades turned to look at her. Seeing the understanding in her eyes, his heart ward. With her by his side, he felt life was complete.
RING RING RING... The shrill ringtone of the phone, always like an unexpected interruption, had a penchant for disrupting the sweet monts of others.
Glades Horne stopped, letting Julia steady the stroller handle, while he pulled out his phone. Seeing an unfamiliar number, he raised an eyebrow. Not many people had his private number; calls usually ca from acquaintances. Who could this stranger be?
He pressed the green button. An unfamiliar voice ca through, "Mr. Glades Horne? This is Halton Hillraise, one of the managers of the Blue Moon Pub. Your younger brother, Fourth Young Master Jas, assaulted soone at my place. The other party called the police, and the officers have already taken him away."
Glades Horne's expression tightened. Jas, causing trouble at a pub?
In his mory, Jas wasn't the type to get into fights.
"Alright, I understand. Thank you," Glades replied steadily and then ended the call.
No sooner had he hung up than the phone rang again, this ti from Benjamin Robinson.
"Glades, Jas got drunk at the Blue Moon Pub and hit soone. My n brought him back to the police station. I'm helping him sober up. Please co over. The other party is clamoring to press charges."
Benjamin Robinson's tone was as cold as ever.
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