Christopher Hart was on the phone at that mont.
The call was from his mother, Emma Carter.
"I’ve t that foreigner! It was... when I went looking for Alia Garcia, I bumped into him in the elevator. He was with two little boys, but those kids were so ill-mannered and annoying."
Because of the incident with Lily Garcia, Christopher’s relationship with his family had been strained lately, and it had been a while since he had spoken properly with his mother.
Today, Emma Carter had taken this opportunity to call her son, hoping to offer so information and have a few more words with him to ease their relationship.
Indeed, Christopher’s face was indifferent as he picked up the phone, intending to brush his mother off after a few words—but then she ntioned having seen Kane with the children, and his face changed to one of shock.
"Do you rember what they looked like?"
Emma thought for a mont, "I don’t rember clearly... They were good-looking. One of them even resembled you as a child, although that child’s eyes lacked integrity, nothing like yours."
"Like as a child?"
Hearing him repeat her words, Emma suddenly doubted herself, thinking how could her flawless son be compared to such an uncivilized brat?
So, she corrected herself, "Actually, not really, I just glanced at them. Too annoying, they were wild, and when a ball hit soone, they didn’t even apologize."
"How old are the children, approximately?"
"About four or five years old," Emma replied, sensing her son’s interest in the children and sneered, "If you like boys that much, just get married and have your own. As for that girl, since her mother wants her, let her take the girl away."
Emma still rembered Alia’s words – to help her fight for custody of her daughter.
In fact, she didn’t have any preference for grandsons over granddaughters, but she just couldn’t bring herself to like this granddaughter.
Once there was a barrier in her heart, it was very hard to remove.
She sincerely hoped the girl would leave with Alia Garcia and never co back.
That way, her son could remarry, live a good life, and have as many children as he wanted in the future, what a complete and happy family that would be.
Listening to his mother’s recurring lectures, Christopher’s originally calm face turned nacing in an instant, "Mom, I don’t want to hear this kind of talk ever again. And no one is going to take Hope away from !"
Giving up, before hanging up, he suddenly rembered sothing and said with an unfriendly tone, "Shouldn’t you apologize to her for the wrongs done to her in the past? She’s been wronged for so many years! If it weren’t for the old man’s protection, she would have been sent to jail by you all, and her life would have been ruined!"
"I—I," Emma was caught off guard by her son’s sudden interjection and was montarily speechless, then said, "How can you bla us? Didn’t you suspect her too, at first?"
"Yes, I was an asshole back then."
Christopher’s anger suddenly extinguished and his face darkened, his eyes deep as he spoke softly after a mont of silence, "So... now I regret deeply and only hate that ti can’t be turned back."
Hearing the change in her son’s tone, Emma couldn’t help but urge, "Christopher, don’t think like that, this matter also..."
"Forget it, I’ve got sothing else to do, hanging up now."
He had originally thought his mother could provide more valuable information, which is why he had patiently listened to so much.
But now that she brought up a topic that enraged him, he had no desire to say another word.
"Okay, you’re busy..." Knowing her son was not pleased, Emma didn’t dare persuade further, but hastily asked before he could hang up, "When will you be done? You haven’t co ho for dinner in a long ti, your dad has ntioned it a few tis."
Christopher dropped one last sentence, "When you apologize and admit your mistakes to her, only then will I step foot in that house again."
"You—"
Emma was stunned, quite upset, and just as she was about to scold him, her son had already hung up the phone.
Lucas King had been waiting quietly with his reporters at a distance.
Seeing Christopher lower his arm, Lucas stepped forward, "President Hart, I’ve brought the person."
Christopher turned around, the anger still lingering on his face, casting a piercing glance over the sleazy, overweight man, causing him to shudder instantly.
The gossip reporter, noticing him approaching, beca even more nervous and stamred, "Mr. Hart, I know you’re a big man who wouldn’t hold a grudge against a nobody like , right? If you want that post to disappear, that can be arranged, but... well, you know how things work in our line of business..."
Christopher Hart chuckled with anger as he sat down on the couch, slinging a long leg over the other, and looked up at him.
He really should have been doing so self-reflection.
Had he beco more and more benevolent over these past few months, or had everyone grown bold as bears and leopards?
Every Tom, Dick, and Harry dared to co before him and make threats!
"Do you want hush money? Then na your price, let’s hear it." His smile was evident, yet his eyes were as cold as arctic ice.
"Heh heh..." The paparazzi snickered obsequiously, "Mr. Hart sure is a straightforward man. But this matter could’ve been handled by your staff, why did you receive personally?"
"Of course, a man like Hart has to show sincerity."
The other party still smiled, saying cunningly, "You decide what to give, as that’s the rule around here. If I spell things out for you and you turn around and accuse of blackmail, then I’d pay a heavy price."
Lucas King spat, "You sure are experienced, aren’t you!"
"Heh heh, thanks for the complint. It’s not easy to make a living."
Christopher Hart tugged at his lip, "Money matters are easy to talk about. Let ask you a few questions first."
The paparazzi was startled, questions?
"How long have you been photographing that foreigner?"
"Since... since the beginning when you and Miss Norton went viral on the trending search, I was originally tracking Miss Norton, but then I accidentally found out she had a special relationship with that foreigner, so I occasionally followed him too."
"How old is the child with that foreigner?"
"How old... probably four or five years old."
Christopher Hart mused silently; this corresponded with what his mother had said.
It looked like they were the two his mother had encountered in the elevator.
He pondered for a mont and then asked, "Do you have clear photos?"
The paparazzi said, "Well... I do have so photos on my phone, but they’re not very clear. I was only photographing that guy incidentally, so I didn’t put much effort into it."
"Show them to ," Christopher Hart reached out his hand.
"Huh?"
Lucas King stepped forward and kicked him, "He’s telling you to take out your phone, what are you hesitating for!"
Only then did the paparazzi react, pulling out his phone with a strange expression and stepping forward.
Weirdly, they had called him in not because he had tarnished his esteed reputation but to inquire about so child.
What did the kid have to do with him?
The paparazzi found the photos, handed over the phone, and asked in a low voice, full of curiosity, "President Hart... why do you care about the child? Could it be... he’s your secret child lost outside?"
While he gossiped, he couldn’t resist wearing a mischievous grin on his face.
Lucas King stepped forward and kicked him again, "Watch your filthy mouth! Spout nonsense again and I’ll shut you up for good!"
The paparazzi murmured, "But this is a society ruled by law..."
Christopher Hart couldn’t be bothered with him, but he carefully flipped through the photos one by one.
They were taken from a distance, indeed not clear.
Yet when multiple photos were put together and scrutinized, subtle clues erged.
Those two children, their walking posture, their silhouettes, they looked remarkably like Snow Fitch’s nephew.
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