The CEO Gets What He Wants

Meanwhile, at the Gibson residence, Xander sat by the dining table.

He was a young and handsome man with almost bewitching beauty.

He watched in silence as Avery quietly fed Cal his meal.

Avery was dressed in a black suit with her hair tied in a ponytail. Her delicate face was clean and delicate.

He wasn't sure if it was due to the maternal glow she exuded, but he found her becoming increasingly charming, making him unable to resist the urge to take a second look.

Xander was the first to speak, breaking the silence in the room. “Ms. Rumpley, we invited you here today for a meal, partly to bid you farewell and partly to give you some advice for your trip to Remdik. I apologize for what happened to Cayden before. I didn't expect such an unexpected incident to occur. I've found out that Cayden's attack was connected to the Remdikian mafia, but the specifics of their entanglement are still shrouded in mystery. Going to Remdik this time will be quite dangerous, so I'll assign you a few more skilled bodyguards.”

As Avery fed Cal milk, she spoke in a low voice. “Thank you, Mr. Gibson. You don't need to apologize because of what happened to Cayden. On the contrary, I should be the one apologizing to you. When Cayden was attacked, the incident cost you two good men. Also, I always remember the help you've given to my husband and my company. I will definitely repay you when the opportunity arises.”

“Mommy, I don't want to drink milk,” Cal suddenly said in a babyish voice, his little mouth puckering up adorably.

“Be good. Drink more milk so you can grow taller. Cal, you can drink a little less, okay?” Avery patiently coaxed him.

“No, I don't want to. I want fried chicken.” Cal stubbornly pouted, his face full of reluctance.

Cal, with his short arms and legs, still wasn't very good at using a fork. It was always Avery who fed him.

Seeing his mother always serving him the food he disliked, Cal shook his head like a rattle drum.

Xander cast a cool glance at Cal, then said to Avery, “Don't just focus on feeding the child. You should eat something first. You have a flight to catch this afternoon.”

“I'm not hungry right now.” Avery had barely finished uttering those words when her stomach rumbled as if contradicting her.

“Let me feed Cal first, and then

somewhat worried. Cal was incredibly picky with food, and he had no idea who

stood up from his

glaring unhappily at Xander with his bright, clear eyes. “I don't want this mister to hold me. I want Mommy to feed me. Not just

usually not very talkative, when he did speak, he was incredibly articulate. He didn't seem like a two-year-old, especially with the look in his eyes. It was apparent

Gibson like this.” Avery tugged at his son's cheek, schooling

privilege of being fed by me? If it weren't for the fact that your father is Cayden, I wouldn't bother with you at all.” This little rascal is indeed Cayden's son. Not only does he look similar, but even this bad temper is exactly

single remark

man Cal admired most was his father, Cayden. Although he had never met him, his mother would often recount his father's heroic deeds to

eyes, Cayden was

right then.” Cal reluctantly allowed himself to be held in Xander's arms, letting

the food Xander chose was just like his mother's, always picking things he

eat, he was somewhat intimidated by Xander's terrifying aura. Thus, he had no

at his son in Xander's arms. Cal's pitiful demeanor of not daring to

was a loving mother but

still there, Cal would surely behave

tender fish, from which he had removed the bones, into Cal's mouth. After a moment of hesitation, he finally spoke, “Ms. Rumpley, there's actually another reason

“What?” Avery asked, puzzled.

appear to have any particular hobbies. I'm curious, why does she always turn down my invitations? You're

she seemed to have a strong guard up, particularly

terror. She would even curse at Xander or resort to kicking and punching. That

some things had been deliberately erased by someone, leaving

heart immediately sank, and her face turned icy cold. “Mr. Gibson, don't you know what happened to Nina? There are

uttered the last sentence through gritted