The CEO Gets What He Wants

Zachary still had a lot of questions for Cayden, so he stood outside the bathroom and waited for his father to finish showering.

When Cayden was finally done, he walked out with a towel wrapped around his lower body, revealing his well-built chest with water drops still clinging to it.

“Daddy, I'm sure Ms. Ery has her own parents, so why do you have to be the one to look after her?” Zachary still could not figure out what Cayden meant.

The man then sat down with his legs open and wiped his short black hair with a towel. “How old are you, and how old is she?”

“Well, I'm five... I don't know how old Ms. Ery is,” answered Zachary.

Cayden gazed at his son and continued in all seriousness, “You're five, and she's twenty-four, so you're nineteen years apart. Very soon, you'll grow into an adult like me and have dreams and careers to chase. By then, I'll be a middle-aged man who keeps getting older by the day. The same goes for your Ms. Ery. We'll be as old as your grandpa someday. But before that happens, we still have a long way to go. Along that way, we'll go through sickness and other hardships, and men tend to be the support women need in those times.”

To that, Zachary nodded understandingly, for he remembered his father telling him that every man had to be dependable.

After giving it some thought, Zachary carried on with his questions. “But Ms. Ery will have a husband and children in the future, right? Will you take care of both her and her husband?” Daddy must be a very kind-hearted man if he's willing to do something like that.

“Why would I do that?” In response, Cayden glanced at coldly Zachary before standing up to throw the half-wet towel aside. He refused to continue with their talk.

The man furrowed his eyebrows when he thought of Avery's husband, Zayne.

Zachary lowered his head and pouted, wondering what he had said to upset his father.

Meanwhile, in Quakersville, Avery had no idea what time she had finally managed to fall asleep the night before.

Because of her nightmares, she did not get any decent sleep and was plagued with a headache in the morning.

Even though her phone vibrated, she failed to notice it.

It was a WhatsApp message from Zayne: I'm guessing you're still asleep, so I hope this message didn't wake you up. I'm sorry I can't visit you today because I'm very busy. If you haven't recovered from the cold yet, remember to take your medicine. My mom made soup early in the morning and said it's for you, so I gave her your address. I'll see you at work on Monday.

Since Avery was still asleep, she did not see the message when it was sent.

Outside the residential area, the rain clouds from the night before dispersed and gave way to a sunny day.

Even though the sun was beating down, the temperature and humidity in the air were just nice.

With the soup poured into a vacuum flask, Isabella carefully held the container with her hand at the bottom as she got off the bus. Then, she happily made her way over to Quakersville just ahead.

The residential area was quite old, but everybody expected it to last at least fifteen years since no ordinary developers would have the means to develop the place.

When Isabella entered the area, she saw several elderly men drinking coffee on rocking chairs and a few women her age.

The women did not notice her, as they were busy gossiping.

One of the women, who wore a floral dress and had a fan in her hand, pointed at the house numbered twelve behind her and raised an eyebrow. “I'll tell you who the person is when we bump into her next time. Tsk! I'm telling you. You really can't judge a book by its cover. Since you guys have never seen her, I'll tell you what she looks like. The woman has a pretty pleasant face, doesn't dye her hair, doesn't wear a lot of makeup, and doesn't dress revealingly. Heck, she looks so proper that you'd never guess she's a homewrecker.”

“Keep it down, Deborah! What if you're wrong?” questioned another woman, who thought Deborah's accusation was baseless and was worried they would get into trouble for gossiping like that.

Deborah immediately popped a vein. With her fan pointed aggressively at the house, Deborah continued, “You think I'm wrongly accusing her? I told you nothing but the truth. Just ask anybody in this neighborhood, and they'll tell you I've never wrongly accused anybody of anything! Even if she's around now, I'll tell you the same thing. I even know what her name is. Her last name is Rumpley, and her first is Avery or something.”

Two women beside Deborah helplessly exchanged looks, for they knew how she liked to accuse others without grounds.

Isabella's hands on the vacuum flask trembled when she overheard the conversation.

“You mentioned the name Avery Rumpley just now. Why did you call her a homewrecker?” asked Isabella straightforwardly after walking up to the group of women, who then turned to look at her.

“Who is she to you? I don't recognize you. You're not from this neighborhood, are you?” Deborah felt somewhat guilty since she did not have solid evidence to prove what she had said was true.

Naturally, Isabella got upset after overhearing the gossip about her daughter-in-law. “Who is she to me? She's my daughter-in-law! Why were you gossiping about her?”

“So you're that homewrecker's mother-in-law, huh?” Deborah sneered before lowering her head to look at the vacuum flask in Isabella's hands. “You don't live with her, do you? And I'm guessing your son isn't always home with your daughter-in-law, am I right? It's funny how you try to protect her because she probably doesn't care how you feel about her bringing a random man home.”

The other women quickly pulled at Deborah's shirt, trying to stop her from saying things she was unsure about.