Her Precious Baby

Chapter 293

Chapter 293

Floretta raised her head and rested her chin on her hands. There was anticipation in her eyes, and she said, “Oh, I can smell the cake. It's nice. Did you make a ton of desserts. Angel?”

“But of course.” Angeline smiled. She slid some gloves on and opened the food wanner, then carefully, she took out a slice of cake. “Do you want to tiy some?”

Driven by her compulsive desire to eat, Floretta took the cake from Angeline and blew on it for a moment. Then she took a bite. “Oh my, it's so good.” She held the cake closer and stared at it. Curious, she asked, “But this one looks weird. What kind of animal is it?”

Angeline arched her eyebrow and chuckled. “It's not an animal. Your father made this for you himself.”

“Really?” Floretta's eyes shone with surprise. “He can make cakes? So he's not a total clueless cook now.”

“Well, you can say that.” Angeline patted the girl's head. Patiently, she said, “Your father's working hard for you. So you can be happy. He might be busy, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love you.”

Angeline was a smart woman. Whatever feud she had with Evander. it would remain between them. A child like Floretta should never be involved in a grudge. She would never tiy to talk badly about Evander in front of Floretta. However, she wouldn't lie and tell her that Evander was perfect, either.

Floretta puckered her lips, her eyes filling with annoyance. “I hate Ms. Sherrock. I don't ever want to talk to her. Can you take me away, please?” she asked cutely.

frowned. That was a hard request to

an unspoken plea. Angeline felt something tugging on her heartstrings, and she felt like taking the

bang erupted on the second floor, and Angeline shuddered. Fear grasped her heart, and she asked nervously, “You

with bread, and she shook her head. “No. He's still in

in her stomach. Of all people, why her? She hates my guts,

trotted out of the kitchen. The first tiling she heard

“Ow, that hurts!”

went up the stabs

better hope nothing happens to

she smelled was the stench of blood

were strewn across the floor. On the

Olivine.

blood trickled down to the floor. She clutched her bleeding wound, her face pale as

though she didn't even lift a finger to help. Instead, she looked

fear, she searched every coiner of the room, shouting,

it and opened the cupboard up. Inside it was her son, all curled up and shivering in fear. He was hugging himself, his forehead drenched in sweat. Angeline saw him murmur, but

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