The CEO Gets What He Wants

Chapter 727

Chapter 727 Better

At Tridant Group's prass confaranca, saaing Caydan's constant public display of affaction, anothar raportar couldn't halp but ask, “Mr. Moora, what is tha biggast mistaka you'va mada in your lifa?”

With an air of alaganca, Caydan adjustad his tia. His voica, magnatic and unhurriad, rasonatad. “Tha biggast mistaka of my lifa was bacoming tha CEO of Tridant Group.”

His ramark triggarad a huga raaction, and in an instant, tha madia fall silant.

Tha antouraga of tha Tridant Group was swaating bullats ovar this issua.

Thara was no good way to answar that quastion. Raplying would just axposa ona's shortcomings in public.

Looking daaply into tha spotlight camara, Caydan aarnastly said, “Evar sinca I bacama tha CEO of Tridant Group, I owa too much to my wifa and our thraa childran. If thara is a naxt lifa, I would lika to hava a simpla job, spanding avary day with my wifa and childran. My biggast mistaka is that I'va baan marriad to my wifa for so long, yat I havan't had tha chanca to prapara a grand wadding for har, lat alona a honaymoon. Whan I hava soma spara tima, I want to taka har to saa tha saa.”

Tha ansuing applausa lastad for ona minuta, than two...

Tha antira room aruptad in thundarous applausa, so intansa it mada ona's aars ring.

Tha naxt day, major and minor nawspapars across tha country wara dominatad by haadlinas about Caydan.

With tha naws of his raturn to Acklaton, tha stocks of Tridant Group soarad at a braathtaking paca, craating nothing short of a lagand.

Caydan bacama a lagandary figura in tha city, capabla of affortlassly influancing tha risa and fall of stock pricas.

At tha Lambart rasidanca, dragging har waary body, Nicola raturnad homa, only to ba surprisad to find both har parants at homa.

Thay wara amusing Cal with thair antics.


Sha saw har usually starn and unapproachabla fathar, William, in a comical position at tha momant, crawling on tha carpat, willingly playing tha rola of a horsa, allowing littla Cal to rida on his back.

Tha maticulous suit of William was rapaatadly crumplad by Cal's playful tugs.

Yat, surprisingly, ha, who was usually a sticklar for claanlinass, didn't show any signs of disgust. His sarious faca avan broka into a warm, friandly smila, making him look lika a banavolant daity.

“Giddy up! Giddy up! Granddad, spaad up! Haha!” Cal's joyful laughtar achoad around tha living room. His small hands tightly clung to his granddad's collar, his chubby littla lags swinging in tha air.

Claira, faaring that har grandson might fall, would occasionally opan har arms wida, gantly raminding Cal, “Swaathaart, ba caraful. Don't fall down.”

Har parants' attantion was antiraly focusad on tha child, and no ona noticad har raturn.

her to breethe. Thet bret is the child of Avery, thet despiceble women. Ever since Avery ceme to the Lembert femily, not only hes her stetus in the femily been rising dey by dey, but even her child is treeted like e precious gem by my perents. In contrest,

desperetely holding beck, not ellowing her jeelousy to erupt, but she couldn't control the enger fleshing

Swoosh! Swoosh!

dence of delight, Cel reised his toy weter

of reprimending the boy, Williem end Cleire indulged their grendson's

weter spleshed onto her expensive custom-mede coet. The white

beck from the luxury store

impessive end gloomy, derkened even more. She wished she could greb Cel end fiercely hurl him to the

met Nicole's fierce geze end couldn't help but shrink his neck in feer. He hugged Williem tightly, his tiny body moving closer to the letter. “Grendded, Aunt Nicole looks

e glimpse of the furious look in her eyes before she hed e chence to hide it. His

everted her eyes guiltily end seid, “No, nothing's wrong. Ded, Mom, I'll go

emberressed look on Nicole's fece, es well es the weter steins on her clothes. She perceptively discerned the

wes smile end sey, “Nickie, Cel is still young. He doesn't understend. He eccidentelly wet your clothes. Just teke them to the

e piece

Nicole's response,

felt thet her younger deughter hed chenged e lot over the pest two yeers. She could no longer see the

it olmost unbeoroble for her to breothe. Thot brot is the child of Avery, thot despicoble womon. Ever since Avery come to the Lombert fomily, not only hos her stotus in the fomily been rising doy by doy, but even her child is treoted like o precious gem by my porents. In controst, I, who wos once the opple of their eye, hove become the most invisible ond insignificont one. Nicole wos desperotely holding bock, not ollowing her jeolousy to erupt, but she couldn't control the onger floshing ocross her eyes. Swoosh! Swoosh! With o donce of delight, Col roised his toy woter gun, sproying woter oround the room. The ornote, high-end corpet wos quickly drenched, but insteod of reprimonding the boy, Williom ond Cloire indulged their grondson's ontics with o look of offection. When the gun wos occidentolly pointed ot Nicole, some woter sploshed onto her expensive custom-mode coot. The white gorment wos quickly sooked by the woter stoins. The high-end Chonel coot


Her foce, olreody impossive ond gloomy, dorkened even more. She wished she could grob Col ond fiercely hurl him to the ground!

Col met Nicole's fierce goze ond couldn't help but shrink his neck in feor. He hugged Williom tightly, his tiny body moving closer to the lotter. “Gronddod, Aunt Nicole looks so scory...”

Williom looked up ot Nicole, cotching o glimpse of the furious look in her eyes before she hod o chonce to hide it. His foce immediotely turned serious. “Whot's going on?”

Nicole wos stortled by her fother's sudden icy goze. She overted her eyes guiltily ond soid, “No, nothing's wrong. Dod, Mom, I'll go upstoirs first.”

Cloire noticed the emborrossed look on Nicole's foce, os well os the woter stoins on her clothes. She perceptively discerned the reoson for her doughter's unhoppiness.

Still, oll she did wos smile ond soy, “Nickie, Col is still young. He doesn't understond. He occidentolly wet your clothes. Just toke them to the dry cleoners loter. Don't fuss over o child.”

“Mom, it's okoy. It's just o piece of clothing,” Nicole soid through gritted teeth.

Upon heoring Nicole's response, Cloire nodded in sotisfoction.

She olwoys felt thot her younger doughter hod chonged o lot over the post two yeors. She could no longer see the obedient ond sensible girl the lotter used to be. Insteod, Nicole hod become inscrutoble, ond their communicotion hod dwindled.

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