Chapter 22
Charles ruffled the child’s hair, pressing his cheek tightly against Margaret’s. His heart ached so much that tears welled up in his eyes: “Never. Daddy loves my little Margaret most. How could I ever leave you?”
He turned his gaze toward Barbara, disgust flooding his eyes.
“You make me sick.”
As Barbara tried to plead her case, Charles ignored her. Seeing their master had spoken, the bodyguards stepped for- ward: “Throw her out.”
They covered Barbara’s mouth and dragged her out mercilessly, dumping her on the roadside.
The world finally quieted down. Charles sank wearily onto the sofa. Charles Jr. looked at the few remaining body- guards before him and asked cautiously, “Are you… Mom’s people?”
When they remained silent, he pressed on, “Can you take me to her? Please?”
Charles’s throat tightened, remembering Margaret’s resolute determination when she’d demanded his signature.
Even heartbroken, she’d left so much for their child.
All these years, he’d been the calculating one.
The head guard crouched before Charles Jr., meeting his gaze at eye level. “Young master, the boss hasn’t visited in ages.”
“Dad,” Charles Jr. turned to grasp his father’s hand when the guards couldn’t answer, “I miss Mom. Where did she go?”
Charles pulled him close, utterly lost for words.
A week later, the servants packed Barbara’s belongings and dumped them at the entrance as instructed.
Barbara, who’d struggled to return to the Rivera mansion in Philadelphia, felt her world crumble at the sight.
She knelt before Charles, clutching desperately at his trousers: “Charles, listen to me–it’s not what you think.”
Her voice trembled with tears as she pleaded tearfully: “After all these years together, don’t you trust me? I was just jealous… I only wanted a child of our own…”
“A child?” Charles kicked her shoulder, scoffing: “Ha! You? Bearing a Rivera heir? Are you worthy?”
He waved a hand, and the butler flung documents before Barbara.
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Chapter 22
288 Vouchers
Seven years ago, you took my father’s money abroad to live it up, indulging yourself for years. Now you’re back in Philadelphia, sowing discord between Margaret and me just to cling onto me and keep living off others.
He stomped on photos of Barbara kissing some foreign guy, his voice icy cold: “What makes you think you measure up to him?”
“I never imagined you’d be this broke and lazy. Selling yourself when desperate is one thing, but targeting a child?”
Barbara paled: “You investigated me…”
“I’m protecting my child.” Charles narrowed his eyes, his tone freezing. “You’re not worth a single strand of Mar- garet’s hair.”
Just then, a noblewoman stormed out holding a little girl’s hand, her voice trembling with rage: “I respect Miss Lewis for matching men in capability, so I still address you as Mr. Rivera. But today you must give me answers.”
She pointed at the boy, undisguised disgust in her eyes: “Not only has he repeatedly lifted my Nini’s skirt, today he actually tried to pull down her panties!”
“Do you know this is illegal? I’ll sue you! Have this little brat jailed!”
Hearing this, Barbara turned deathly pale. Seeing the boy stagger backward, Charles nearly fainted from fury and im- mediately ordered servants to administer household punishment.
Hearing household punishment mentioned, Charles was so terrified he wet his pants on the spot. Clutching Barbara’s arm, he cried out: “Aunt Barbara, help me! You clearly said… said paying some money would settle it.”
“Don’t you dare!”
Barbara shrieked.
“But… but you did say it.”
Though emboldened by his father’s presence these past few days, Charles still trembled before Barbara. “The butler can vouch for it! You taught me that! You even said little girls hide secrets under their skirts–things you and Dad don’t have.”
As these words spilled out, everyone present stiffened with discomfort. Charles flushed then paled.
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Chapter 23
