Chapter 20
Hearing his father’s question, Victor hastily grabbed his spoon and began eating. The clinking of porcelain echoed crisply through the dining room.
Margaret emerged from the kitchen carrying dishes. Glancing at Victor burying his head in his meal, she chuckled lightly while scolding: “Didn’t your teacher say children shouldn’t be picky eaters?”
Then squinting at Charles, she added: “Charles, don’t worry. When he grows up he’ll know preferences, but refusing food he dislikes isn’t good. I’m correcting that.”
Charles nodded: “Thanks for your efforts.”
Meanwhile, Victor shrank back slightly, murmuring: “Thank you, Aunt Margaret.”
Charles was called away by his buddies halfway through lunch.
The moment the car drove off, Barbara’s smile vanished instantly.
She snatched the spoon from the Rivera boy’s hand, her face twisted in disgust. “Stop eating! Do you even know what you’re eating? Something this expensive is wasted on you.”
“Don’t think your dad’s brief visit means you’ve got backup. You better behave, or don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The Rivera boy flushed crimson under Barbara’s fierce expression, too scared to talk back. He remembered when gourmet dishes were laid before him to choose freely–he’d grown tired of such soups long ago. Yet lately, there was nothing but table scraps. He missed the days when his mother was home; at least he never had to go hungry then.
“Good for nothing!”
Barbara scowled in disgust and snapped: “Get back to your room now! Just like your useless mother–trash who can’t
read the room.”
Three days later in the afternoon, Charles was playing pool with his brothers when his phone rang with an internation- al call.
“Charles? I’m staff from Engadine Echo. The young master won’t stop crying. Could you come check? We’re worried something might…”
Charles frowned slightly: “What about the young lady traveling with him?”
He remembered this was the Swiss hotel he’d booked for Barbara’s trip.
The voice on the phone hesitated: “You mean Barbara? She went skiing in Biel with friends two days ago and hasn’t returned.”
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Chapter 20
“What!”
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Charles sprang to his feet, his expression shifting abruptly: “I’m taking the next flight. Please notify the director of White Kiss Resort to arrange pickup for the young master.”
That ski resort with over 390 kilometers of slopes was Margaret’s fifth birthday gift for Victor. Back then, he’d mocked her nouveau riche extravagance.
Now he thanked Fate her influence was so widespread.
After twelve hours airborne, Charles reached Victor’s bedside just as the boy cried himself unconscious.
Outside the ICU, anxious faces crowded the hallway. The small figure whimpered in restless sleep: “Daddy, I’m
scared.”
“How did this happen?”
“Ms. Barbara likely locked him in the hotel room while running errands,” a nurse explained. “The young master’s frail constitution coupled with prolonged stress triggered hallucinations.”
The doctor lowered his voice, expression grave: “The child has a frail constitution, so proper nutrition is crucial.”
Charles’s heart tightened. What did that mean?
He remembered when Margaret was around, Jack constantly had nutritious meals. To boost his health, they’d even hired renowned chefs from everywhere to design special diets.
As if struck by a thought, he slumped into a chair defeatedly. After a long silence, he asked: “Where’s Barbara? I flew all the way from home. Why hasn’t she shown up?”
The manager hesitated before finally saying: “Our team found Ms. Smith stayed with a Mr. Xiao at a hotel for two days. They’re still there. She told the front desk the child needs independence–just deliver meals on schedule and don’t interfere…”
Charles felt anger surge through his veins. Spending his money to fool around while neglecting his child? She must have a death wish.
He took a deep breath, held back his fury, and called Barbara.
The phone rang for ages before being answered, and it was eerily quiet on the other end.
“Charles?”
Barbara’s voice was hoarse and low, tinged with drunken pleasure, unaware of her situation.
“Where are you? Where’s the child?”
Not catching the rage in Charles’s tone, she lied on the spot: “We’re at the hotel, the kid’s been playing wild and is napping now.”
