Alia Garcia: "..."
This skill of blatantly lying with eyes wide open is simply... unparalleled!
Yet, she couldn’t expose it either, otherwise her painstakingly concealed identity would reveal itself.
"Miss Norton, if you don’t believe it, you can go downstairs and check."
"..." Alia Garcia was utterly speechless.
"Mama... Mama..." Perhaps the conversation disturbed the child, who was not sleeping soundly, as Hope began to murmur, seemingly about to wake up.
Christopher Hart squeezed past the woman and imdiately walked to the large bed: "Baby, what’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable sowhere?"
Normally, a little patting would have lulled the child back to sleep, but the man picked up the little girl and held her in his embrace, gently inquiring.
It might have seed caring and affectionate, but in reality, he intended to wake her up.
Sure enough, Hope Hart opened her eyes and imdiately reached out to Alia Garcia for a hug: "Mama... I want Mama... Mama, don’t go—"
"Baby, Mama has to go now, let’s be good and sleep..." The man continued to coax gently.
"..." Alia Garcia rolled her eyes, realizing his obvious intent.
The child imdiately began to cry, sounding especially sad in the quiet of the deep night. Alia Garcia couldn’t bear it, so she turned back.
"Don’t cry, Hope. Mama is here with you, go to sleep..." She took the little girl into her arms, and the girl hung onto her like a koala.
Christopher Hart was very pleased with this scene.
As long as she didn’t leave, later in the deep night when she would go to wash up...
Well, perhaps there would be a chance to confirm his "suspicion."
But how to confirm it was a problem.
After all, that mole wasn’t located on an easily exposed area like the arm or leg.
President Hart racked his brain, regretting that he hadn’t asked Benny Palr for advice earlier—such sneaky ideas were not sothing an upright gentleman like him could co up with.
Hope Hart lay in her "Mama’s" embrace and gradually fell asleep again, restoring quietude to the room.
Alia Garcia wanted to lay the child down, but as soon as she slightly moved, the little girl instinctively held tight to her neck, frowning and moaning.
It must be said, boys and girls really are different.
When her two sons were ill, although they were clingier than usual, it never reached the extent where an adult had to hold them to sleep; girls really are softer and clingier.
With guilt in her heart, thinking of her four-year absence, she ultimately couldn’t be ruthless enough to forcibly leave her daughter.
Thus, in the end, she could only hold the little girl, leaning back against the bed, letting her lie on her chest and fall asleep.
The room was eerily quiet, and Christopher Hart’s tall and slender figure stood by the bed, making the silent atmosphere even more awkward and embarrassing.
Alia Garcia had never dread that she would be back by her daughter’s side, holding her and soothing her to sleep.
And least of all did she expect that Christopher Hart would be standing nearby.
He seed to be watching her, perhaps trying to confirm sothing again.
She could only ignore it, looking down affectionately at her daughter’s delicate little face, gently brushing her hair beside her ear to one side.
Christopher Hart initially wanted to ask her to go wash, but several tis the words reached his lips, yet he lacked the courage to speak them.
Pride mattered to a man, especially for soone like President Hart, who stood at the pinnacle of power and wealth.
After hesitating for quite so ti, his hand opened and clenched, clenched and opened, then he could only turn around and silently leave.
Alia Garcia secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Ti passed without her knowing for how long, when Aunt Harper gently knocked and entered, speaking softly with concern: "Miss Norton, the night is deep, why don’t you stay over? Here are so clean pajamas, you can take a bath and change."
Alia Garcia smiled faintly, "Thank you, but it’s not necessary. If I move, the child will wake again. Let her sleep well."
"But... You can’t just hold her all night like this. Go wash, I’ll watch her."
"Really, it’s not needed. It’s late; you go rest."
Aunt Harper had co with a mission, but seeing that she couldn’t persuade her, she reluctantly fell silent for a while and then had to leave.
"Sir, that Miss Norton refuses to go wash, saying she’s afraid of waking Miss Hope."
The man behind the desk, with his handso face cold and silent, did not speak.
Aunt Harper, trembling, explained, "I... I advised her several tis and placed the pajamas by the bed, but she still said she didn’t need them."
The man raised his hand, "You go rest."
"Yes, you should rest early too, sir." Aunt Harper, unable to decipher the master’s thoughts, offered a caring word and silently withdrew.
Christopher remained seated, and after a while, he slowly exhaled and raised one hand to rest on the leather chair’s armrest, his slender, clean fingers massaging the weary corners of his eyes.
This woman...
Is she really Alia Garcia...
Is she...
————
In the early morning, the sound of birds chirped, heralding a bright and beautiful day.
Alia Garcia suddenly woke up, lifting her head and looking around, slightly confused...
Several seconds later, when her vision cleared and she saw the little girl sleeping in her arm, she rembered the scenes from the previous night.
She had stayed overnight at Imperial Garden Villa.
Checking the ti on her phone, it was seven o’clock, and she started to worry.
She hadn’t returned all night, and she didn’t know how Noah was doing.
The villa was quiet, seemingly everyone still asleep; she carefully withdrew her arm, kissed her daughter’s cheek with reluctance and tiptoed out of the bed.
She called a ride on her phone, planning to leave quickly before Christopher woke up.
But as soon as she descended the stairs, she heard a respectful and polite voice from a servant, "Miss Norton, good morning, why don’t you sleep a bit longer?"
"Shh—" Alia quickly signaled for the servant to be silent, sneaking towards the door.
The servant, confused and unsure whether to intervene.
In the courtyard, the faint sound of an engine was heard, and Alia’s heart lightened, thinking the ride had arrived so quickly. Yet when she looked up, she saw a wheelchair coming in.
The next second, her face was slightly stunned, and she stopped in her tracks.
Wendy?
What a coincidence? How did she suddenly co back?
Upon the wheelchair, Wendy, knowing soone had stayed over the night before, hadn’t expected to catch them right as she entered.
Although she had been portrayed by Lily, seeing that face still startled her, her heart skipping a beat.
It looked... too similar!
And the way the other looked at her...
Alia noticed Wendy staring at her and quickly reacted, her face showing a politely distant smile, "Hello..."
Then she continued walking toward the door.
"Stop." The wheelchair turned around, and Wendy spoke to stop her.
Alia stopped, thinking it was over.
Turning around, she still maintained her flawless smile, "Did you call ?"
"Is there a second person here?"
Alia frowned, "You are..."
"You don’t know ?" Wendy’s gaze filled with suspicion.
"I’ve never t you, how could I know you?"
"Really? Then why did you look so startled when you saw ?"
"Did I? It’s just strange to see a perfectly healthy young woman in a wheelchair appearing out of nowhere, so naturally, I was surprised."
The two "dueled" in the living room, while at the stairs, the master of the house, dressed in silk pajama bottoms and bare-chested, descended the stairs slowly, his deep eyes intently watching.
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